Skip to main content

My Fitz

New Boo is my Fitz.

It finally makes sense.

If you're a Scandal fan, you know that one of the main story lines is the one involving Olivia Pope and President Fitzgerald Grant. He's married, but he loves her beyond reason. And in spite of the fact that she has Jake Ballard firmly in her grasp, she can't shake the love she has for Fitz.

That's how I feel about New Boo. I know he's a lowlife and a cad. He's a liar and probably a cheater and my heart won't allow me to let him go. I find myself thinking of him...imagining our life together...and even though I know that our relationship meant way more to me than it ever did to him, I miss it terribly.

What is wrong with me? Why is it so hard to let him go? He clearly isn't pining for me. But he indulges me because -- let's face it -- it's good for his ego. I'd probably indulge me, too.

I hate the love I have for him. It's like the worst virus I've ever been infected with, and there's no cure for it.

My Teddy Bear is my Jake Ballard. He loves me, but it's not enough. He's enough, but when you love another man, no one can take his place.

And as much as I want to deny it...as much as I want it not to be true...as much as I wish I could make it vanish...I love New Boo. I really do.

To be clear...I know he doesn't love me. I know that. I know that he wants to see me so he can lie to me again...try to get me under his spell again...but I finally know the truth.

So why can't I walk away from my Fitz?

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

He's Gone...For Real

My uncle died. He actually ceased to live. I don't know how to handle this. Even though he was my mother's brother, he was so much more than that to me. He was the coolest cat on the block, He set the standard that every man had to meet. He was the one I compared every man in my life to. For all intents and purposes, he was my de facto dad. I am stunned. I feel like someone knocked the wind out of my body. I grew up watching him. If he sat up straight, I wanted to sit up straight. I once caught him standing up to pee. I thought I'd do that when I grew up, too. (You can just imagine that conversation). That's the thing...he never shied away from my craziness. When I discovered what a father was -- at the tender age of five -- I purposed in my heart to find one for myself. I asked every man I knew, including him, if they'd be my daddy. He said, "I can't be your dad. I'm your uncle." When I pressed, he gently explained that he already had a significan...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Middle Aged Rant

I am single. I’ve never had a husband. I’ve never given birth to a child. I’ve never lived with a man over six months. I am 54. I’m not classically pretty. I’m overweight. I’m not very tall. My brother says I’m a unicorn. My friends are kind enough not to make me feel small. My mother mentions in passing that she wants me to find a husband. I try not to be sad about my state. I’ve lived a life that some would find enviable. I had my dream job, met and interviewed great people, made great friends, and traveled all over the world. I have a new career that I find oddly fulfilling. Men don’t always like that. Some of them are jealous because I’m not easily impressed. Some are jealous because I’ve done things they haven’t. Some are jealous because I’ve lived on both coasts. I don’t know what to do. I can’t change my life – not that I want to. I can’t change my past – not that I want to. I can’t change myself –not that I want to. I just want someone to see me, not the image I present. I want...
Post a Comment
Read more

I Own My Tears

I own my tears. I used this as a hashtag on a Facebook post. I was talking about the movie, "The Fault in Our Stars." If you've seen it, you know what I mean, and I won't spoil it for you. Of course, you know me -- it's deeper than that. I need to say it out loud... I own my tears. New Boo meant the world to me. He really did. Our relationship meant the world to me. It really, really did. And now it's over and he's gone -- seemingly for good. That makes me cry more than I want to, and more than I have ever imagined I would. And while I hate it, I need to do this. I need to mourn this thing in its entirety because it has truly changed my life. I own my tears. I own the fact that I am hurt. I own the fact that I'm mourning a relationship that I wanted to work more than life itself. I wanted to be a part of a couple, and eventually a family. That may well happen for me one day. Today, though, it doesn't look likely. So yes, I cry. And you ...
1 comment
Read more