Bitter? Table for One?

Sometimes I hate being an only child.

Wait. Scratch that.

Sometimes I hate being spoiled.

Well... No. Scratch that too.

I really freakin' hate that even though I know I don't REALLY want something, I don't want anyone else to have it either.

There. That's better. I can admit it. That's the first step, right?

It's just that it's so dang frustrating when I can identify the problem, I know that it's not REALLY a problem- that I'm just being bitter and *thunk* I really shouldn't be bitter in the first place, so WTF, Mandy?!?

I don't like being bitter. It's not very becoming.

I ESPECIALLY don't like being bitter when I have absolutely no reason to be. And when my "reason" is irrational, oh OH how pissed I get.

So now I'm bitter and pissed. And I'm pissed that I'm bitter. Awesome. It's like the damn Circle of (F'd up) Life.

What am I bitter about, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. (Picture me with my head hung low in shame and embarrassment while I admit this, k? Thanks.)

I'm bitter because Twatwaffle is "in a relationship".

Yep. *smack* I know. I coulda had a V-8.

Nevermind the fact that I, too am in a relationship. A committed one. That I have no desire to get out of. With a man I've loved for many years, gone to hell and back with and had a child with. NEVERMIND the fact that Twatwaffle's record for longest running "relationship" is about, oh, a month? (<-- it ain't bitterness if it's true, y'all) NEVERMIND the fact that I DON'T EVEN FREAKING WANT TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH TWATWAFFLE.

I just don't want anyone else to be in one with him either. *pout*

Seriously. WTF? In what UNIVERSE does that make sense?

I feel like Emeril Lagasse on a bad trip: one part logic, one part common sense, mix in some faith and *BAM* irrational emotions! Say wha..? No, Emeril, that recipe doesn't sound right. A little less heroin and a little more garlic next time, ok buddy?

I've done everything I know to do (in no particular order):

- Counted my blessings

- Counted my money

- Counted my shoes

- Counted my Skymiles

I've made all the excuses:

"Not like anything was gonna happen anyways."

"He's a jerk, remember?"

"Uh... he's an inconsiderate, immature, brat."

"Probably the only reason he even came into your life was so you could meet your awesome Twin."

It ain't workin, y'all.

What more do I want? It's like I'm 4 and my cousin came over to play Barbies with me. She reaches for the Barbie that I haven't played with in months and was my least favorite Barbie to begin with, but as soooooon as she touches it... "That's MY Barbie, give it back! You can't have it." And it becomes the extra Barbie in the Ferrari that I crammed in between Skipper and that Hawaiian lookin' chick because she's NECESSARY to the pool party I'm planning so NO you can't have her back even if all she's doing is sitting there.

Know the sad part? (Besides that crappy analogy) I wasn't like that when I was a kid. I never had a problem sharing. I was always the generous one who said "Oh I haven't played with that Barbie in AGES, you can even take her home with you!" This is a recent development. Well, as recent as adulthood. We'll call it early 20s.

So I can't blame this on being an only child.

I can't blame it on "the one that got away" (Thanks, Katy Perry) I never "had it" in the first place.

I can't find anything to blame this feeling on except unsound logic! Which brings me back to being bitter and pissed and pissed that I'm bitter.

Ugh. This whole post made no sense. And I'm still bitter. And pissed.

Help? Anyone? Words of wisdom?