We’re all about Meh here at CN — that Promised Land of acceptance where the pain stops and you don’t really care what your cheater does any more, or with whom. That said, a lot of chumps wouldn’t mind an exit ramp to Schadenfreude.
“D-Day was 6 months ago and I’m fine… I just want the cheaters to break up. Tragically. Painfully. Like maybe someone dumps someone’s possessions from a 10th floor balcony or sets a car ablaze.”
“I don’t want him. I don’t care who he moves on with — JUST NOT HER. Really ANYONE but HER. I can’t bear the thought of my children being around her. If she so much as bakes a cupcake with them, there will be bloodshed.”
“Do they have to get married? WHY? Why are they getting new toasters and a trip to Lake Como while I’m here suffering? How come HE gets someone and I AM ALONE? Toaster-less!”
Self-pity isn’t a good look, chumps. I know it’s unjust — let me repeat that — I KNOW IT IS UNJUST. Your future has been shattered by a couple of fuckwits, and now they get to enjoy the bedrock relationship status that you used to enjoy, that was part of your identity, your family, your financial security. WHY DON’T THEY FAIL?
It seems like the perfect antidote, really — the whole Twu Wuv thing blowing up in their faces. Ha! That’ll show ’em! Maybe they’ll come crawling back! Maybe it will be too late! (Maybe it won’t. Oh hey, is that a unicorn I see?)
STOP. Don’t make your healing contingent on what cheaters do or do not do. You only control YOU. You certainly don’t control the karma timetable. Needing (wanting, desperately praying for) the Schmoopies to break up is a rookie chump mistake. Trust that they SUCK.
Oh shut up, Tracy, with your Trust That They Suck. Is this just more of your inane branding? Go embroider that on a pillow. I KNOW they suck. And I just want them to fall flat in a vat of acid. Is that too much to ask?
If you need Bad Things to happen to cheaters, you’ve missed the point. THEY are the Bad Things. Being them is a punishment. I know it doesn’t look that way, what with the Nobel prizes, yoga retreats, and new trucks — but can you imagine being so vapid and selfish that you’d break up a couple families for kibbles? Do you really envy narcissists? So what if a couple of crappy people got together. I’d say it leaves them out of the dating pool, but it probably doesn’t. They. Don’t. Get. Character. Transplants.
And let’s say for the sake of argument that they do. Now they are Much Happier and It Was All for the Best. It’s regrettable that Mistakes Were Made, but sometimes you have to break a few hearts to make an omelet. They still did this. You can’t go back. That relationship is dead. It doesn’t matter how they move forward, YOU have to move forward with your one precious life.
Chances are the Schmoopies will break up. These things often do. (Look! Shiny thing!) But it will happen about the time you really don’t give a shit. And if they stay together? That’s about the worst punishment two narcs could endure — a bad kibble supply. Kibbles? I thought you were bringing the kibbles? No? So they’ll have to go out in search of new chumpy triangles (rectangles, dodecahedrons…. I never tire of that joke…)
God, aren’t you relieved to be out of that mix?
We don’t control fuckwits. I know it’s a shit sandwich to let them around your children, but just keep being the sane, awesome parent, and let fuckwits be fuckwits. Let them engrave invitations and invite everyone to their elaborately catered farce. What does commitment mean to people like that?
I have no idea what happened to the Schmoopies in my story. The internet has left a few clues. (There were other chumps, other triangles, more discovery of her long-standingness.) Doesn’t concern me. Those people suck. My life is pretty great. Certainly not without its challenges, but I’ve got some solid blessings, chief among them, I’m not a fuckwit.
I bet you’re pretty great too. Don’t look back. Forget the fuckwits.
This one ran before. Oh hey, still no character transplant!