IPF

The Inman Park Festival was this weekend.
The last time I went I was with bad S.
It is not a good memory. The incident happened before I had this blog, so I'm going to post it here - to have. Just in case.

Bad S loves festivals like Inman Park and Dogwood and Summerfest. He liked them more when he was drinking. The first couple we went to, we had a good time, but it wasn't long before things changed.

The last time I was at IPF, it was a beautiful day. He and I held hands, walked around, visited all the booths. We walked by all the beverages and food. We had a little to drink. A little to eat. But a little was never enough for him.

An hour into the festival he got really grumpy and quiet. I didn't understand where it was coming from because I thought we were having a great time. But he started to get angry and anything I said didn't help the situation. He finally told me that he wanted to be by himself. He was going to stay at the Festival, but he wanted me to leave. We weren't just dating at this point. He was my boyfriend. My boyfriend had asked me to leave.

I can't tell you how awful that feels. Someone you love tells you they don't want you around. I walked away crying, my head down, not wanting anyone to see. I ran into Pookie and Cray-Z on my way out and they convinced me to stay. They were great that day. Like they always are. Cray-Z sat in the park with me, talking to me, trying to get me to relax and then I saw bad S again, accompanied by a group of girls, on the way out of the Festival. It was like someone had kicked me in the stomach. He'd not only asked me to leave. He was now with a bunch of girls and he'd already cheated on me. In fact, after the first time, I would never trust him again, so you can imagine what I felt when I saw him leaving the park, wasted, with a bunch of women.

Somehow...SOMEHOW... later that night he convinced me nothing happened. That he was sorry. We were together not much longer after that day.

I would say I keep learning the hard way that bad S just doesn't give a damn, but I didn't actually learn until years later. My dad always called me hard-headed. I never believed him.

I do now.