Revenge, Best Served Sweet

By now, the whole world knows that I now know what the whole world already knew I didn’t know:  Daniel Tarquino is a lying, womanizing piece of garbage.

The magic of modern technology is this:  everything you need to know, you can absolutely find out by clicking your mouse just the right number of times.  I’m a master clicker.  When I have a suspicion or a theory, nothing can stand between me and the information I seek.  The Colombian has learned this the hard way.

Something never felt quite right–at least, not since October.  Too much Melissa, not enough me-time, and answers that didn’t make any sense.  I may be famously gullible, but there are limits even to my level of trust.  So I spy electronically.  I don’t even feel the need to lie about it.

I have a button on my “Racebook” page that says, “I love how Racebook stalks you for me.”  My friend knew this would be funny to give me, because she is aware that I am a Master Stalker.  But I hesitate to use the term jokingly, as I know that stalking is a serious and possibly dangerous crime.  I am not dangerous.  At least, not physically.  I have no interest in going to jail, nor in mussing my face or hair in a fistfight.  I am just vain enough not to hope for new scars.

So let’s just say I…investigated my theories about The Colombian.  I investigated over and over, waiting for the proof (I knew I would find) to materialize.  And materialize, it did.

Indeed, Daniel and Melissa are back “in a relationship.”  This was announced to the Racebook world–a world he was not aware I could view–along with the very smarmily cute addition of his new profile pic…which is the other half of her profile pic.  They have linked to one another on the world wide web in a tasteless ode to days gone by, when he was fatter and she was equally as wrinkly.  (Bear in mind, though he is about to celebrate another birthday, she is still old enough to be his mother.  Yeah.)

In retrospect, the chain of events of the past few weeks make much more sense.  Based on their pages, as well as what I have seen with my own eyes (which travel by their home purely out of convenience twice a day), I have determined that indeed, they were getting back together when we had our first big fight in November.  When she contacted me in December, they had just had a fight.  He knew I wouldn’t believe her then, so his lies about their never having been together, he knew were plausible.  And I ate it up.

They continued to stay on the outs as he began dating me again.  He lied to me about not having been with anyone else while we were separated.  Then, when I began seeing her car at the inn again, he became “too busy” for our dates.  I used Racebook to confirm on Christmas Eve that they were close again…but I didn’t want to believe it.  Indeed, they were back together.  But he continued to take in my calls and emails as their drama continued.  At one point, one of them even “unfriended” the other.  They were fighting again.  Her car again disappeared.

It was then that I began to doubt my investigative skills and intuition.  (Now I know that one of my emails had sparked yet another fight.)  It was easier to believe that I had been wrong all along, than to believe that he could have misled me so cruelly.  So I tried to apologize.  Over and over, I tried.  In yesterday’s post, I told about how I had stopped at the inn and been shut down and shooed away.  Now I  know why.

It was two hours later when they cyber-announced their relationship to the world.

For months, I’ve struggled with sudden fits of anger over the way I’ve been treated by The Colombian.  I chose to give in to it, instead of merely kicking him to the curb and resuming my life.  At the time, I didn’t have much of a life.  Work was awful, finances were scarce, and I had no hope of anything other than loneliness waiting for me at home.  Each time I would fly off the handle, I would immediately become consumed with guilt.  I would thirst for revenge, and wipe it away.  Revenge is bad!  Anger is bad!  Hurt is bad!  But all those things were in me.

All those times I struggled with the guilt over wanting revenge, I did so because I doubted how evil The Colombian was.  I was so certain I was wrong.  How could I believe such things about a person?  A person I’d grown to love and cherish while struggling to understand and accept him?  Now I know he is all the things I feared him to be.  And you know what?  I don’t feel guilty.  For the first time ever, I feel very justified in wanting a little payback.

The thing is, I am struggling to find a more peaceful life, and am spending significant money and effort to ensure I find it.  Vengeance is negative, and is not conducive to healing.  Right?

Today, as I allowed myself to simply feel the feelings associated with my new eyes-wide-open pain, I had a brainstorm.  A light bulb flicked on in my head, and led me to the most perfect revenge of which I could have possibly conceived.  It is not only legal and fun, and completely devoid of peril, it is also a potential money-maker and takes me closer to my life goals.  It allows me to process the emotions associated with the entire experience.  It gets me exactly what I want, while it absolutely does poke The Colombian and his inappropriately-old ladyfriend straight in the eyes.

I’m not going to tell what it is here.  (If I did, I’d have to kill you.)  But worry not, it can’t get me into any trouble.  You’ll just have to wait, maybe a year.  Maybe less.

I have a lot of work to do.  There is healing to be done, and plans must be made.  Don’t fear for me, gentle reader!  I promise that when the process is through, I will be better than ever.  The pain I’m feeling now will be replaced by glee and contentment.  It is that kind of revenge–the kind that is truly sweet, and where no one gets hurt.  Not again.