Now that my crazy long heartbreak story has been concluded... I figured I would lighten up a bit and explain my “Shit Pie” story...
(First of all, I’m hoping everyone had a fabulous Halloween/Samhain ... Mine turned out to be amazing. I went dancing and ran into my daughter. I hadn’t seen her in months!)
Anyway... I had met this Dom online initially. I should have given myself more time to get to know him before meeting him. He was charming at first but most narcissists are.
There were so many red flags in the beginning, I would have trouble listing them all off.
I met him while in an open relationship with a switch. As much as I loved the switch... I was interested in being exclusive and I wanted a Dom.
He called me Kitten, a name I’ve come to hate because of him. He called my daughter Kitten as well... and this should have set off some red flags.
To make a long story short... or do I really want to make it short? I think the entire thing would be far more amusing if you got to know the characters.
Okay... so... the dom. I will call him Edward. Or jerkface...douche canoe ...twat waffle...
He acted a lot like a kid sometimes. He watched cartoons. He was obsessed with Arthur. He had a disturbing attraction to one of the characters in the cartoon.
He didn’t have a regular job, instead he made his income by selling antiquated books online. His inventory was extensive. When we decided we were going to be together, he insisted on moving everything to my home.
He insisted on me helping with his books in my free time. I hardly had any. I was working full time and going to school. My kids also needed me.
He also insisted I pay for the shipping and I invested so much money buying books for him to sell. He didn’t help with the mortgage or groceries or anything. He just sat on his money and made these demands of me.
There were little things that I did for him that didn’t bother me but the punishment for forgetting any of his quirks was denial of affection. We really didn’t discuss terms and limits before we got together. But that’s the worst possible thing anyone could do to me. I became a shell of a person.
Some of the little things I had to do for him were:
1. Bring him a washcloth that was wet on one side and dry on the other... every night or anytime he asked. I had no problem with this task...
2. Leave the house entirely with my kids when he wanted to take a bath. This was kind of weird and sometimes rather inconvenient.
3. Spend my hard earned money on yard sales.... Every weekend. I would catch hell if I did not do this.
4. Write a daily poem or praise to him on a public forum. I had no issues with this either aside from my words in that praise becoming less sincere by the day.
5. Make him pie ... whenever he asked for it. No problem there... I love baking!
He would squeal and clap his hands together when presented with the pie. Just remember this.
Many times he would enter the kitchen and ask, “Is there pie?” Or “Did you make a pie for me?” To which I would either give him pie or make him one.
After three years of living with this “man-baby” (a name given to him by my daughter) I had had enough. My daughter begged me to kick him out of our lives. She just said he wasn’t good for us... (Later after she had turned 19, she confessed that he had molested her. I was unaware of it when I broke things off.)
He did not go peacefully and forced me to be mean.
Even after the break-up he would still stop by and check in on us... which was rather annoying.
One night, I had made this delicious chocolate chess pie. For some reason... this pie wreaked havoc on the intestines of anyone who consumed it. It was a “shit pie”.
Jerkface came to visit on this night and asked me “Is there pie?”
The words made me gleeful... and I presented him with half a “shit pie” and assured him that it was crazy delicious.
He squealed and clapped his hands together, taking his pie home. He never asked me for pie again.
