1999

I wrote him off for the tenth time today.

He can go screw himself. I'm done. He can take his brown eyes and just go away. He can take his sweet words and go home, I'm done. I don't need him anymore. Three years is long enough. I'm almost thirty years old. He's not going to commit. He can call me baby, baby, baby, all he wants, nothing is ever going to change.

I practiced all the things I would say.

It's just not working out. I want out. We've grown apart. It's not fun anymore. I'm looking for a commitment and I don't think you're there just yet. Then there was a knock on my apartment door. I didn't even have to guess who it was. It was him. It's always him. It's only him that would come knocking so late. Should I pretend I'm not home? If I did that, he might leave. I can't let him leave.

But he came over, I lost my nerve.

I took him back and made him dessert.

Now we're sitting at my kitchen table eating chocolate cake. Looking at each other. He does this to me every time. He looks at me with those big brown eyes. He smiles that cocky smile and I can't help myself. I get sucked right back in. I get sucked right back into his life. His crazy life. My life is normal. His, not so much. He's always gone, always doing something. Always on the go. And here I sit. Waiting for him to come back. And he knows that I'll be here when he decides to make his grand appearance. It doesn't matter how much worry or distress he causes me, I'll always be here. I'm just a sucker with no self esteem.

Now I know I'm being used. That's ok, man, 'cause I like the abuse.

I know he's playing with me.

That's okay 'cause I got no self esteem.

Three long years this has been going on. He can't commit. He's gotta play the field. I'm just a side girl that he comes to when he's got nothing better going on for the night. He swears up and down I'm not the side girl. He swears that there is no one else. I can't believe him. He's out there with all those beautiful women all the time, and here I sit, waiting for him to come back.

Baby, I love you, he says. Things will be different, just give me a chance to prove it to you. So I give him yet another chance to prove it to me.

We make plans to go out at night.

He doesn't show. Why would he show? He promised that he would show so of course he wouldn't show.

I wait 'til 2 then I turn out the light.

This rejections got me so low

If he keeps it up I might just tell him so

Who I am kidding? He's Shane McMahon. I'll never tell him so. I'll just let him keep using me. That's what you do when you're sleeping with power.

You believe his lies. You believe his promises. You believe every word that comes out of his perfectly sculpted mouth. You believe in the power that he holds over you. You can't quite explain it, but all you know is that if he ever took it away, you would waste it away into a puddle of nothingness.

When he saying that he wants only me.

Then I wonder why he sleeps with my friends.

Ok, that hurts. It stung a little bit when he did it the first time, when he slept with Miranda. It hurt when he slept with Angela. It hurt a lot more when he slept with Kim. But I didn't do anything about it. I don't have any self esteem. I didn't even get mad. Not on the outside anyways. On the inside, I'm seething. How dare those other women think of laying their grubby hands on my man? Is he my man? That's where the line gets blurred.

When he's saying that I'm like a disease.

Then I wonder how much more I can spend.

He says I'm his favorite disease. I'm in his brain. He can't get me out. Which is why he never fully leaves. He needs me. Just like I need him. But why do we treat each other like this?

I should stick up for myself. I shouldn't be waiting up until two in the morning waiting for him. He was supposed to be here at eight. No phone call. No text. I have no idea where he is or what he's doing.

The more you suffer. The more it shows you really care, right?

Two thirty rolls around. There is a knock on my apartment door. He's drunk again and looking to score.

Now I know I should say no. But it's kind of hard when he's ready to go. I'll take his urgent kisses. I'll take his busy hands. I'll take his whispered promises that won't come true. So we'll begin our vicious cycle over and over again. And in the morning I'll hand him some Advil and a big glass of water. I won't ask him where he was all night. I won't nag him that he was supposed to be at my place at eight. I won't be the jealous girl and demand to know who he was with. I won't ask him who he thinks he is, showing up here drunk and just thinking that I will let him in for the night. I just won't. Because I don't want to know. I don't want to know who he was with or what he was doing. All that matters to me is that he came back to me at the end of the night.

I'm just a sucker with no self esteem. And he knows this.