Once A Concealed [Card] Carrying Member
To tell you a little bit about me, I am a lifetime member of the [Once] Brokenhearted Fools Club. Ms. Humpty Dumpty here [aka me] got chumped—chumped BIG TIME. I have the dubious distinction of being a the quintessential ‘mark’ for emotional manipulation. To prove it to you, grab any dictionary and look up any of the words in the sentence below. No doubt you’ll either find a picture of me, or find me notated in the honorable mention reference section. Oy vey!
Yes, boys and girls. I was a schmuck … dolt … dimwit … Pollyanna … blockhead … boob … sucker … you get my drift. And hey, I’m not afraid to admit it because admitting to a problem is the first step in fixing a problem.
Today I don’t even care if people laugh at me, because the truth is, I WAS all those things! [Notice that I didn’t say I ‘am‘ those things?] Your mileage my vary, but it took a series of harsh face-plants to the pavement to wise up, but I eventually did.
Flappin’ In The Breeze
Interestingly, prior to ‘The Ordeal’, I existed as an otherwise intelligent professional woman. So how did I get chumped so badly, one might ask? I got chumped so badly because I willingly put all my eggs in one basket several decades.
Yes, I was so naively love-struck and starry-eyed that I willingly gulped down all of Casper’s propaganda—especially that ’till death do us part’ enticement. Talk about an emotional hook—bait and witch. [Pardon me folks, I just threw up in my mouth a bit and I need to clear my throat.] Sorry for the interruption.
Now … where was I? Oh yes … how I got here. How I got here was that I had my identity squirreled away in one place [in my relationship with Cheater Pants, and as a result, Humpty Dumpty here, fell off the wall and shattered into a billion pieces when he up and left one day with no notice.
NOTE: If anyone reading this leans to the conspiracy side of things—you’ve probably already sniffed out the story line. Yep, you’re right. I was pushed! So go ahead. Alert the tabloids. I could use a royalty check for selling my story right about now. [Wicked grin.]
A Grim Fairy Tale Of The Third Kind
Obviously I jest in recounting this story. But seriously, as I hit the ground, shards of my [thought-to-be] time-tested/happy marriage and stable home life flew everywhere. I quickly discovered that the steel girders that I [erroneously] thought underpinned my ‘happily-ever-after’ turned out to be not even close to being up to code.
So … lacking the tensile strength to maintain any kind of upright structure … the underpinnings of my marriage succumbed to catastrophic failure like The Twin Towers did on Sept 11th in New York City.
Bricks from the wall where I had been so happy to reside were thrown everywhere—blown apart by the impact of Casper’s sudden announcement. One by one, even the few reinforced girders that were left standing made that creepy eery noise and slowly toppled to the ground as well.
And then … there it all lay. Everything I’d known as my life for decades was instantly reduced to a pile of rubble on the ground. Who knew? Not a very pretty site, for sure.
Meanwhile Back At The Ranch
So, while I was still coughing and trying to find my bearings amidst all the smoke and falling debris, Casper and Satan’s Mistress [aka ‘the other woman’] boarded a plane and jetted off to another continent—laughing a raucous cackle. They’d pulled it off! They no doubt were celebrating that they could now kick back and relax without DDW [Devalued & Discarded Wifey] to muck things up in the background.
With Phase 1 completed, they delegated Phase 2 of my take-down to a subcontractor—their cohort and personal friend, The Wicked Witch of the ‘West’. LOL
By the time the tail of their jet disappeared into the clouds, flying monkeys had already been dispatched and were beginning to circle overhead in tight formation.
The only thing missing from my real-life movie trailer was the haunting echo and added threat of, ‘And I’ll get your little doggie too!’
Ending On A Good Note
There’s always a silver lining in every tragedy and it was this … Since I’d never been much of an animal person, there was no little doggie for The Wicked Witch or her monkeys to come after. So all you dog lovers reading this can breathe a sigh of relief. Today, there’s still a cute little Fluffy or Fifi out there—alive and kicking—still enjoying his/her daily ration of Alpo.
Oh yeah, here’s the legal fine print: Absolutely no animals were harmed in the making of this tragedy.
Have a great day ‘errbody!