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Murder She Wrote – TBT Post 08.18.11

I’ve been going in a lot lately on people who put their relationships on blast via social networking sites. I’m aware I’m a judgmental asshole for it, but I only wish I had a judgmental asshole friend to have stopped me from doing certain things in the past. I can remember a specific instance where I would’ve paid someone to have ripped the keyboard out of my hands, thrown it out the window … and had someone in a Suburban waiting to run it over.

It was less than a week before February 14th and even though I was in an exclusive relationship at the time, I kept the day open and entertained the idea of hanging out with homies in case Valentine’s Day proved to be “too much” for my dude. One of my boys I hadn’t seen in forever was thinking of coming down from Sac with some friends and left me a Facebook comment asking to kick it. Instead of checking in with my significant other (which I planned to do anyway), or simply texting back I replied on my wall. Something along the lines of, “I’m down, you know my middle name is Trouble!”

Judging by the context of the original message, it was obvious my boy was just that – my boy. And when I said “trouble,” I meant the drunken karaoke Battle Royale kind of trouble. But while I will defend my response ’til the day I die, things get lost in translation – especially when they’re written and not said. So I also understand how it could have seemed disrespectful and incriminating.

Common once said, “Even if they don’t try, some ladies test men.” I suppose I did just that, and this man failed miserably. To be fair, I’m sure my own score was a D- at most. Do I think that something as petty as a Facebook comment resulted in the demise of our relationship? Unfortunately, YES. Am I sorry for it? YES. Do I regret it? NO. Obviously, there was more behind it, and if that’s all it took for him to bounce he mustn’t have been that into me to begin with. Not writing what I did wouldn’t have prevented anything, it would’ve simply prolonged the inevitable. In hindsight, I ripped off the band-aid.

Even though I can’t remember exactly what I wrote that day, the immediate consequence I faced couldn’t have been any more clear and the lesson I learned might as well have been carved in stone. Like they say, people may forget what was said, what was written, or what was done, but they’ll always remember how they felt.

If I could, I wouldn’t take anything back. I found out a lot about myself, and the other person. But next time? I’ll pick up the phone so the writing on the wall doesn’t do the talking.

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