Absolutely Fabulous

Fabulous

I’m a lucky man.  The neighbor envies me.  I see it in his eyes.  He wants her.  He wants my wife.  Because she’s absolutely fabulous.

My best friend is not my wife.  My best friend is the dictionary.  So, come here pal, I need you!  Open up.  Please show me.  I want to see the word Fabulous.  I need to know who I’m married to.

Fabulous:

  1. Of or relating to fable, myth or legend.
  2. Characteristic of fables; marvelous, extraordinary, incredible.
  3. Fictional or not believable; made up.
  4. Known for telling fables or falsehoods; unreliable.
  5. Very good; outstanding, wonderful.
  6. Gay or pertaining to gay people.
  7. Camp, effeminate.
  8. Fashionable, glamorous

Yep, she’s all of these things, except number 6.  She keeps saying that she’s not gay, that she loves men.  But then she’s always hanging out with her fabulous female friends.  And she treats me like crap.

Number 5 contradicts numbers 3 and 4.  How can an unbelievable, fake and unreliable person be good?  She appears wonderful, that’s for sure.

Everyone loves her.  Well that’s what she tells me.  So it must be true.  *wink*

I wonder how long she can keep up this show?

Speaking of which…  there used to be a television sitcom by this title.  I think this is where the photo comes from.  I don’t know, I just used Google Images and typed the word fabulous and this one came up.  I thought it looked a lot like my wife.

Being absolutely fabulous is not such a bad thing.  It’s better than being an asshole who posts degrading comments about his wife on WordPress.

But I use my blog to make myself feel better.  And for some reason, I feel better now that I have expressed myself.  Isn’t blogging absolutely fabulous?

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Vanity

Vanity1.png

I can’t believe that you are still trying to impress me.  After fifteen years of living together, you are still doing it.

I am not at all impressed by the fact that you are trying to impress me.  It’s not funny anymore.  It’s sad.  Stop telling me how wonderful you are, it only makes you look awful.  Don’t tell me how much your boss and your friends admire you.  This does nothing for me.  I don’t get it.  Do you think this will make me love you more?

You are so proud of yourself.  This is all I hear coming out of your mouth.  How much progress you have made, how much money you make and how many compliments you’ve received today.  It makes me feel sick.  It doesn’t make me want to hug you.

Show me your vulnerability instead.  Allow yourself to be weak and flawed in my presence.  This will impress me, because it’s reality.  The truth is what impresses me, don’t you see?

I know you want to be loved, but you’re doing it wrong.  You’ve been doing it all wrong since the beginning.  Vanity is not what will make me want to remain friends with you.  Not even your smiles.  I want to see you cry.  I want to see you recognize and regret every single word you have ever said to manipulate me.  Your words don’t impress me, they disgust me.  Be real, be defective like a normal person.  Show me the insecure side of you and I will take you in my arms to protect you.

As long as you play strong, as long as you act great and speak in vain, I will not want to be near you.  I wish you would understand this.  I wish you could realize this on your own.  Because if I tell you, I know what you will do.  You will pretend to be vulnerable just to impress me again.  It won’t be real and it won’t work.  It has to come from you.

When will you stop trying to impress me?  I can’t take it anymore.  When I see you coming, I want to run and hide.  I know what you will say.  You are so predictable.  I know how marvelous you are already.  I know, I married you!  But each time you tell me how perfect you are, it’s like you are telling me how much of a loser you think I am, because I am the opposite of you.

I know, I should love a person as flawless as you.  I should, really.  But there must be something wrong with me because I hate you.