An Anal Agreement between both parties required 2/17/14 #19

About 2 weeks after my mother died we celebrated our first Christmas without parents.  I’ve said it before being without both of your parents leaves you feeling somewhat lost.  It’s like you have erased your history, where you came from, who you belong to.  It feels as though you are a tree without roots.  The strange counterpart to this is I have spent my whole life trying to cut myself from my family, my tree and now I feel afloat without it.   Fast forward to Xmas, I had been dating someone for just a few weeks things are going well as they always are at the start of something new and fresh.  He is a welcome soft place to land as I sort through the feelings of losing my mother.

I had been fighting one of the worst migraines I have ever had it was Christmas Eve and the sister with whom I am still speaking to had invited me along with her family to my brother in-laws siblings home.    I like them, they are like the family my sister and I kind of wanted, they are not without their flaws but they love each other and they show up for each other ….always.   I am close in age to my bro in laws brother P, and for a short time in college he and I ran in the same social circles so I was really looking forward to spending the holiday with them and some old faces.

The headache prevailed and eventually I ended up right where I started on the couch sleeping away the skull crushing pain.  Tossing and turning, kicking off blankets and pulling them back on was alternated with occasional sips of water before I was reminded that the pain had not gone away.  Sleeping was my only option.  At about 3 am I woke up to an almost burning pain emanating from my arse.   Yes arse.  ARSE. ARSE. ASS, DUPA, CULO.  To be exact my arsehole.

What the fuck is that??? goddamnit, what the fuck, ow, Ow OWWWWW!

I jumped up off the couch and went straight to the bathroom, I had no idea what was happening but I knew one thing my ass hurt, hurt like a burn, like a scrape that gets hot water splashed on it in the shower.

Wait I felt this on Sunday after M and I had sex and I was in the shower, what the hell is my malfunction?

M the new guy I had been dating had left on Sunday for home, today was Tuesday.  On Sunday after a night and day of bent over the edge of the bed, hair tugging, arm behind my back holding, moan filled, back arching, face burying pounding from behind I was taking a shower and felt this slight burn/pain as the warm water ran down my back into my crack.  It was a momentary discomfort that I sort of glossed over I figured it was part of the well  over zealous physicality  from our sexual acrobatics.   Monday was a normal day and I had couple bowel movements which seemed relatively painless until maybe the one on Tuesday morning.  Again that slight sting/burn.

WHAT THE FUCK? DID? HAVE? WHY? IS THIS?  

Gave way to ……DID HE FUCK ME UP THE ASS??? 

Which then gave way to ….DID I NOT KNOW I GOT FUCKED IN THE ASS?

Which then prompted… IS THAT POSSIBLE??

Mental rewind, mental rewind mental rewind.  Ok yes right there, that second as though I was stopping a movie at minute 23 with 11 seconds.  I remember being bent over, really going at it and yep yeah right there, then ,exactly that moment, it started to hurt a little, feel slightly uncomfortable, the discomfort growing, growing and growing up until my pain threshold kicked in.  At the moment I was about to say aloud “ok that hurts” he seemed to readjust and it subsided.  What I would later piece together is he was back in the right hole.  Now I was in full-blown pain, couldn’t stand to have my underwear on or touch even toilet paper to it, note to self, buy more baby wipes.   It’s 3 am, I’m in pain, piecing together the events leading to anal injury and I started to seeth with anger.

Mother fucker, what the fuck, who the fuck does this, who they fuck thinks they can just fuck me in the ass? 

I get out my laptop and begin researching I self diagnose myself with an anal lesion.  It’s common to have a tear occur when one practices, has or has no intention of having had anal without any sort of lubrication.

M, he likes me, as he says he “like likes me”  which is usually a precursor to “I’m falling for you”  which is a precursor to “I love you”.

Why would he do this? Why would he breech my trust in such a way? Guys are pigs!  He doesn’t “like like ” me he doesn’t even “like” me.  He doesn’t have any respect for me, he is terrible at communication, he can’t just take it there without my permission, an extensive talk, long hours of research and  pros and cons list.  ANAL is an agreement, a venture one begins with a handshake of a mutual “I’m in” , at the very least it deserves a prompting of “ok are you ready? I’m gonna stick it in now”. 

As I researched and alternated my weight from side to side as to not apply direct pressure to what now felt like an anal tunnel I stumbled across even more frightening news.

“Transferring one’s penis from the anal cavity back to the vagina leads to exposure to various bacteria from waste.”

I wanted to puke, I was livid, I checked my phone it’s 3:45 I want to call him right this very second and scream “You ass fucked me without my permission, without even my interest, that’ s like rape, that ass rape, that is a violation, how about you let me fuck your ass? How about I don’t ask you and just do it lube free and tear you a new one? Huh? how about that, you fuckin fuck”

The pain sears I go back to researching online but this time for remedies.  I’m thinking like maybe icing, or a cold compress, I have no idea I’ve never tore my ass before….until now.  Most websites recommend ointment or Preparation H.  Makes sense what you would use to treat hemorrhoids would help treat a torn gaping butthole.  Ok perhaps I am exaggerating however in my head it felt like it.

This will probably be the least believable part of this story but I swear on all the ones that I love that still remain on this earth I happened to have Preparation H, not because I have hemorrhoids but because I am vain.  I have used it to treat wicked puffy eyes and bags, essentially it reduces the inflammation.  A makeup artist tipped me off to the trick and told me it is commonly done.  I used it when I began to process the loss of my brother and would cry and cry and cry for hours, the kind of sobbing that makes your chest hurt, your nose run and leaves your lungs gasping for air.  I could hide all of this but I could not hide my swollen eyes when I went to work in the mornings so I used Preparation H.

Eww now I have to touch my finger to my asshole, in a very deliberate way to get this on the tear.

Jesus effin Christ how can this be my life at 4am Xmas morning???

I do it,  and instantly wash my hands scrubbing the index finger which performed the procedure.  I feel instant relieve, a cooling sensation, the burning lessens and then stops but is replaced with an uncomfortable moisture in my crack.  It’s better and worse at the same time different way.

I want to call him, I want to read him the riot act, I want to scream and ask him who the fuck he thinks he is, I will break up with him.  My mind is racing I run through everything I will say I choose my words carefully in case he comes back with some sort of  butt rebuttal.  I check my phone over and over again awaiting the time to call 6 am?? 5 am?? how long do I need to wait?

I text at 6 stating this “as soon as you wake up could you please call me” and I wait what seemed like forever.  What exactly is forever when you are waiting to tell someone they tore your asshole when they shoved their dick in there without asking you?  Not sure.

Almost and hour and half later he calls.  By this time I have had ample time to think, I have calmed down, I have realized that this guys has been open, honest, trustworthy and supportive and 100% in my corner with the passing of my mother.  I remember that it is so unbelievable that anyone would stick around to try and start little less nurture a relationship with someone in such an emotional state, but he has, he has been there every step of the way holding my hand, making me laugh when I needed it , and wiping my tears.

“Hi Good Morning”  …….morning I reply.

“Merry Christmas”  and a flush of embarrassment runs across my face when I hear him say this.  I know I am about to follow-up his seasons greetings with “WHY DID YOU FUCK ME IN THE ASS???” 

“Yeah, Merry Christmas” I mumble.

“Is everything ok? are you ok?” he asks nervously

He knows something is wrong, he thinks I am about to break up with him which seems so counter intuitive considering the weekend we just had together but why else would I have sent such a text?

“I don’t even know how to say this, I know one of things we like most about each other is that we can tell each other anything, anything at all.  We have had such interesting and vulnerable conversations and it has brought us  closer.  What I am about to say is fucked up, really fucked up so I am just going to say it, directly and without sugar coating. “

There is a moment of hesitation, silence and the same hand that nursed my ass hours ago now cradles my forehead as I am about to say something awkward and difficult that will change everything.

“Did, well, Sunday when we were going at it,  um er did you fuck me in the ass?”

Silence.

“What? are you asking me if I, if I, if we had anal?

“Yes”

“No, I mean not that I am aware of in any way, no”  “Why? is something going on down there?”

“Yes, I have a tear or what I can guess after consulting Web M.D. is an anal lesion” 

“What? Do you I mean what happened? ”

“Remember when we were really going at it, well at one point I felt like an intense pulling and upward motion, I thought it was the angle of how you were entering me. I could feel the pressure building and building until it started to become uncomfortable and more uncomfortable and then started crossing over the threshold into pain.  I was just about to tell you but then you moved and it stopped”

“Uh huh, and you think I may have possibly been in the wrong spot?”

“It had to be, there is no other way this could have happened”

“I’m sorry I didn’t intend for that to happen and I never would have ever tried something like that without you and I or us having some sort of talk or discussion, it’s not just something I would do, I’m sorry. Are you ok?”

” Yes I am ok, I know the more I thought I about it the more I knew it wasn’t you to do something like that”

“I’m sorry, is there anything I can do? I feel bad”

” Well no, according to google it will take time to heal but all should be normal in a few days”

He proceeded to ask me more questions about the timeline and when it started hurting and how                        is it that it didn’t hurt so much until like a day and half later. I said I had no idea but that according to all the stories I read online it was common for the pain not to settle in for a few days.  He deduced that between then and now I had well “used” my anus which probably re-triggered the pain or tear.  I explained how angry I was and how I almost called him in the middle of the night and despite him saying he wished I did I’m glad I didn’t.  I’m glad I calmed down and let cooler heads handle this discussion.   Uncomfortable as it was to have this conversation with a new boyfriend  we were glad that I felt I could.  I ended with the hope that one day this would be a funny story one day which we would laugh at and retell to friends.   By the following week I had already begun to share it with a girlfriend and guy friend.  Her comment was if he were anywhere near full penetration I would have known and my guy friend was just astonished saying “how could you not know????” .  I guess everyone is different but I think because I didn’t have anything to compare it to I wasn’t sure what it was….but I do now.

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#27 Food for thought questions 12/22/14

 

Getting back to an post I did a short while back I had posed some questions given to me by guru whose meditation class I attend each week.  I’ll start by reflecting and responding to the first 3.

1. What is the greatest thing about my life right now? What am I missing?

I’m back to me, back to feeling like me, back to taking care of me, back to not giving things up that make me…me to try and fix an unfixable situation.  What am I missing? a new challenge and new discovery I think I might need to return back to my origins of travel and writing about those experiences.  How do I balance the grown up life I have now with the wanderlust I lived 4 years ago? What else is holding me back? Learning how to trust and release and balance my masculine and feminine energies.

2. If I had all the money (resources, love) what would I be doing on a daily basis? Pretty much what I do now it’s fulfilling.

3. What is my prime motivation now? What is holding me back? Learning how I can settle down, finding the one.  What is holding me back? finding the one. It’s ultimately what I want but it’s also scary.

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#26 The Best Parts of Breaking Up 12/22/14

Being almost 2 months out from my last breakup, I have begun to enjoy the shifts of my mind and heart. I’m no longer sad, I have the benefit of distance without emotionality and can see the flaws and all the ways my ex wasn’t capable of meeting me where I was. Once you see that, you have reached a level of acceptance that simply makes you grateful you dodged a bullet.

I’ve been back on the dating websites which will be a completely separate but most entertaining post but getting back in the game can be fun as well. There is the beginning of the transition where you get your life back, where you stop having to make accommodations that eventually made you feel resentful, now you do for you, just for you and it feels good. You go back, to those things that you perhaps let go in the informal unsaid compromises that happen, in attempt to make things work. It feels good, you start to feel like you again and you remember how great your life is. After a while sometimes you notice a feeling, a restless energy build. It’s hard to put your finger on it at first, it’s like feeling like to you need to go out for a run. A stirring to be physically active, movement, push, pull, exertions, sweat, force, propelling, hard, fast, exhausting and sweaty. You realize it’s not a run you need to go for, it’s not that type of release, but rather soon you realize, that what you need, is to get laid. The absence of your option to have sex, when you want it is temporarily gone. Rarely will a woman get turned down and in a relationship it’s almost never, I could wake my ex up out of a sound sleep and he was able and willing to take care of my needs. It wasn’t always the best of the best due to the tired factor but if I had a want or need it was available. You get a little desire dizzy and you begin to think of and be open to a new person taking care of your wants, and in fact you start to look forward to it.525

The first time someone flirts with you and you are receptive to it and flirt back even if it’s just for fun. The first time someone kisses you after your ex can be one of the best parts of breaking up. The first time you experience a desire and feel desired in that way can help put your mantra back in your strut “I’m hot and I don’t give a fuck.”  Now, this can be when you find a new love, begin dating, chatting with someone regularly or it can just be when you make the conscious decision to take a new lover. This sounds so very …..French ……but pourquoi pas?

As I entered my 40s I realized one of the greatest parts of myself is my sexuality, it is confident, funny, open to surrender, fun, and feel good moments. I have done this more so in the past few years and its fun and enjoyable a release of energy. These aren’t the loves of my life, intellectual match or soul mates. They are or well as a rule have always been younger than me, sometimes much younger because what I need is something light, something easy, something fun, FUN, get that? FUN. The relationship I just got out of especially at the end was not fun, it was miserable, filled with fighting, filled with difficult moments, filled with moments of not getting our needs met, heavy, at times boring, and definitely not easy. A new lover is all those things and sometimes more. A new lover is funny, a new lover’s kiss makes every inch of your body feel a buzz, a new lover banters, a new lover flirts, a new lover wants. Just like your relationship was in the beginning but without all the arguments, drama or baggage. Remember those good ol’ days? Well I’m about to, remember them, repeatedly with abandonment, cause “I’m hot and I don’t give a fuck……yet.”

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#25 Heartbreak Rehab

Everyone of us has been there, fighting, unraveling, fighting, distance, fighting, disconnect, fighting, fighting, fighting, fighting, over. The usual milestones become your heartbreak landmarks, if you are the one being broken up with your pain comes immediately as opposed to the person breaking up whose pain comes later. I was the one being broken up with so that’s what I will write about.

In my younger days I lacked compassion, understanding and at times kindness. I was quick to walk away from people mostly relationships, quick to find flaws and short comings and quicker to decide I wouldn’t put up with it. How times have changed, I’m a little older, wiser and more loving. I learned to be compassionate, I learned to love unconditionally and I learned to accept the person for who they are and where they are. The problem is I keep picking people who aren’t able to offer me that same level of commitment and emotional maturity.

The first of the two recent breakups with the same guy lead way to the same healing process. Cry, tell friends, cry, YOGA, listen to sad music, YOGA, cry, MEDITATE, talk with friends. Suddenly you have an awakening, it comes one day, unexpectedly, like a fire alarm that is pulled at an elementary school. Sadness turns into… ANGER… RAGE….DESTRUCTION….
Your script is rewritten from “I loved him so much, I miss him or I miss how he….” to

“THAT FUCKIN PIECE OF SHIT PUSSY ASS WEAK SELFISH NO MONEY HAVING SCARED AFRAID OF LIFE NOT SHOWING UP FOR ME MOTHER FUCKER”, or something like that.

After turning that corner you become a woman on mission posting things on your Instagram like “A weak man can’t love a strong woman, he doesn’t know what to do with her.” While at this moment it makes me laugh that I would post such a thing, I was pissed and in the moment, trying to, from a distance, flip him the bird. I packed his shit and sent it off, I began slowly deleting him from my life. I find more odds and ends of his and quickly box them up and send it off.

“FUCK HIM, WEAK, WEAK, WEAK, can’t stand up for himself at work, didn’t paint his kitchen for 5 year left it in disarray, needing reassurance 24 mother fuckin’ 7, letting himself be led around by the opinions other have of him, only able to relate to someone when he is being a people pleaser god damn unmotivated wanna be one of the cool kids high school nerd complex having semi grown up fuck.”

Fast forward to my rehab. Now today I am happy really genuinely happy I wasn’t before but now I see how wrong he was, how unhappy I was and other discoveries about who he really was and what we really had as opposed to what I wanted and what we were pretending to establish.

In breakup rehab you can do a lot of things, some people write songs, poetry, travel, get a fuck buddy, meditate, drink, get depressed etc. My poison? is to write. Write it down, get it out, talk about myself and him in the most transparent way I can. I will be writing using the questions I received in meditation. To examine myself and the bigger picture. I learned a lot during our time together, our brief two week break up, our 3 month reconciliation and second breakup. I have never been so vulnerable in any other relationship in my life. That is hard, that is brave, that is scary. It was good even though I had heartache in the end. I dared to be raw, I dared to love unconditionally, I dared to give wholeheartedly. I am proud of myself for that. I tried to fix it, I tried to convince him not to give up and I gave all I could.

In the end it is best that he still left because I should never have to convince anyone…anyone to want to fight for me, for my love, for my heart. Did you hear that ladies? NEVER CONVINCE ANYONE TO FIGHT FOR YOU. My healing has started and I explore myself, not so much about him, or always about our relationship but rather me.

Over the next few weeks I will think, reflect and explore the following questions that I received from a teacher. This teacher is someone I practice meditation with and while I would normally refer to him as a GURU he prefers guide. Below are the questions from my guide that I will ponder/encourage you to ponder if you have your own rehab program to work for any reason.

1. What is great about my life right now? What am I missing?

2. If I had all the money (resources, love) what would I be doing on a daily basis?

3. What is my prime motivation now? What is holding me back?

4. What part of my heart am I listening to? What am I blocking?

5. What are my joys in life? What do I feel sad about? What am I angry about?

6. What am I shameful about? What am I guilty about?

7. How do I feel about my sexuality? What is enjoyable? What is missing?

8. What are some beautiful memories? What do I want to forget?

9. What drives me? What is holding me back?

10. What keeps coming back to me? Good things? Bad things?

11. How worthy do I feel about being loved and receiving affection?

12. How do I feel about my friends and family now? What is enjoyable? What is missing?

13. Who am I judging? Who is judging me? Who do I need to forgive? What should I forgive about myself?

Taking the plunge head first, I’ll learn how to swim in the process.

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#24 11/1/14 The other worst part of breaking up …doing it again

I take a deep breath as I begin to write this.  It’s fresh, very fresh, like Wed night, two nights ago, last minute visit to my therapist who I like to drop in on when someone I love dies or a relationship ends fresh.  I’ve had a lot of both in the recent years.

Shortly after my last post of top ten things that are hard when you break up, I agreed to take a call from my ex about one and half weeks after he broke up with me. First it came as a text, asking if he could call me, I immediately apologize for not sending him his belongings yet because I am packing for the move, he says that’s not why he called.  I then text if the kids were ok, he says yes, I then text if he is ok and he says “not really.” He gets the kids to bed and calls. I am speechless, I am paralyzed, I am shocked, literally shocked, I can’t believe the words I am hearing.  He explains that he feels he made a mistake and  made his decision in haste and anger and he has really been missing me.  He asks to drive up to see me the next day, to talk with me, to try and see if we can….. try again.

I’m anxious, nervous waiting for him to arrive. I jump as the phone vibrates in my hand, I look down and see the text “I’m Here”, a text I awaited each time he came to visit for the 9 months we were together.  He comes up the sidewalk and our eyes lock, he walks in, we hug, cry, hug and cry. We go to lunch, he takes responsibility for everything, he tells me where he went wrong, where he let us down, what he now knows and how he loves me, how much he loves me, how much he missed me, how much he needs me and how much he wants to be with me.

I’m scared, fucking terrified to trust him, almost 10 days ago I was sobbing and packing when we parted.  Luckily I had enough distractions, purchasing my first home, getting a new car and switching jobs.  I associate my house purchase with him, he was with me every part of the way and even came to my inspection.  At the restaurant he is vulnerable, open, honest, open-hearted totally open, it’s on his sleeve, on the pancakes, the table, in the coffee, slowly running over my hands and back into my heart.  I’m choking on a mixture of pain, hope, sadness, confusion, anticipation, fear, fear, fear…..so much fear but its dripping in the sweet sticky syrup of want, desire and heartache.  Within a week we are pretty much back together.  Things go great, wonderful, we are open, he communicates what he is thinking, what he is feeling, we tackle the potential problems, head on, together #teamlisaandmike.

It takes three months before I find myself in the exact same place.  Asking him not to make this decision, not to do this again, not to run because he is full of fear, not  to give up on us,   but I have already lost him and I know it.  I know he is starting therapy on Saturday I tell him lets not make any decisions now, lets wait, I’ll give him time, no pressure, he can start therapy and I will just wait and be here for him. I’ll wait, I’ll wait, I’ll wait my voice trails off a sad whisper giving up.

He is not willing, able, he can’t do it anymore.  Prior to today he had been talking to friends about us, explaining how we have been fighting too much, his friends tell him that is part of being in a relationship and that every couple works through it.  As a last-ditch effort he went to his parents home and talks to them. His mother tells him to stick with it and keep trying because we love each other but his Dad tells him to bail and he does.  He was just waiting, waiting for that one person to say “leave” it was the permission to submit and he took it.

I feel a flush of anger like a burning shot from my stomach through my heart into my throat.  I’m so fucking pissed off.  He fucking sold us out, he sold me out.  He let a person outside our relationship judge us and decide our fate. His dad who is responsible for so much of the baggage he carries today.  He objects and weakly argues he didn’t “let Daddy make his decision”  “Daddy didn’t tell him what to do.”  I’m sickened, disgusted, ” “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”    You  have just made it so we can never be together again or ever be around your family, you’ve made it impossible for me to love or ever be loved by your family .  For me in that moment the love is replaced by hate. The next two days are about wiping all traces of each other off Instagram, a few more weepy texts, and the packing up of his shit and mailing it out.  I meditate, I cry, I curse, I yoga, I spend time with friends and text everyone the update. It’s over.

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The worst parts of breaking up…..#23 8/3/14

When you and your lover or boyfriend/girlfriend break up there are several shitty things you must do or go through as part of the healing getting over their ass process. I have compiled what I think are probably the most distrubing.

The Worst Parts of Breaking Up

1. No more regular sex. No quickies, no weekend fuck festarama 2014, no moments of really long, really satisfying, deeply connected SEX SEX SEX whenever and wherever you are. No experimenting, no charging up the toys, no new positions to be tried, no having sex on different new furniture, no fantasies to fulfill in the back row at the movies or sneaky touches under a table or while standing in a crowded public place. I liked, no loved sex with my ex, well while we were together so not technically my ex. We were well matched according to the Zodiac and it was true.

2. The first times you go out with your “couple” friends and you are not a couple anymore.

3. No more morning coffee runs while you cooked breakfast waiting for him to get back.

4. Missing his kids because you liked them and they liked you and they are kids and they don’t understand all this.

5. Hiding or at least isolating all the pictures of him, and you and him, and his kids, and you and him and his kids, and him and his kids. Bascially you put them all in one folder but there seems to always be a straggler and you will come across it and it will make you sad for that moment captured in that photo.

6. Throwing out or giving back or sometimes still wearing his special Tshirt. Especially if it smells like him, it stings the heart instantly and inevitably the tears follow.

7. Gifts they gave you, at first your instinct is to give them back because your mad or you want it all gone them, the reminders, the love. I look around my place and it has previous gifts that people who loved me gave to me or made for me and I’m glad I kept them.

8. Collecting the memorabilia ticket stubs, wrist bands from festivals, your first overnight trip and putting it somewhere where you won’t see them everyday but not in the garbage because you aren’t ready yet.

9. Feeling great, feeling like you are healed, even flirting with a new guy, fantasizing about a new man maybe someone you know or someone you haven’t met yet and then suddenly he creeps back into your mind. It’s sad.

10. Having to tell your story over and over to friends, family and sometimes strangers as you work hard to steady your voice. They love you and support you and lend you their shoulder readily because they are the love you always have, no matter who you date or don’t date. So this may actually be a good thing being reminded of he beautiful smart people who love you with all their heart and want you to be happy so they sit patiently holding your hand until you are ready to fly again.

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What’s the expiration date on happiness? 8/2/14 #22

I believe that overall I am a very upbeat, positive, go getter type of person. Although I have seemed to have several tragedies within the last couple of years I am resilient as fuck. I always land on my feet and everything works out just fine. Sure some of my setbacks or losses have taken me longer to work through and perhaps some will always stay with me, but in the end I end up happy once again. I have begun taking more note of the truely happy moments and find that those real moments of bliss and warmth and contentment are a few seconds or maybe minutes long. Driving with the windows down, sun on my face, music blaring and there it is, a smile creeps over my face, I haven’t a care in the world, I feel good, I feel full, I feel bliss. Moments later, it quietly fades away.

It’s not that when that feeling fades, that I am unhappy or that I stop feeling good. I just go from feeling elevated to feeling back to my normal cruising altitude. These nano-moments happen everywhere, in yoga for that like 20 seconds when I can actually hold tree pose, right after I clean the entire house, at work when I make a difference, being in the middle of cooking a healthy clean meal with a good beer in one hand, stir stepping and dancing around the kitchen, or those first few seconds after an amazing orgasm with the person you love or feel crushingly connected to. Over, done, finito, terminado, the end and then back to your normal you. Being normal me is pretty good, often fun but it can also be stressful, lonely at times, overwhelming and deep like the kind of deep that can make you tired.

These things make up most of us or at least those of us that are aware of our role in this world and the connection to those that surround us. I have seen the “ignorance is bliss” play out in people’s lives, those totally unreal, completely not normal HIGHLY ELEVATED people. I’m suspicious of those people because I think a balanced life includes a dose of reality, some soul searching and moments of heartache.

I used to always ask my ex boyfriend “Are you happy?” I think hoping to catch him in his moments of bliss, I think there may have been times when I did, I’m not sure. I know that while we were together at times I felt a smile creep over my face, I felt like I didn’t have a care in the world, I felt good, I felt full, I felt bliss but about 2 weeks ago it was time to come down to my normal cruising altitude and maybe even encounter some turbulence. We had been arguing and struggling more than usual for the past two months same old same old. He was a people pleaser I’m totally direct, he is scared of putting his ass out on the line when something matters to him and once asked me where I got my strength from, I didn’t know the answer. I think now that it comes from heartache, feeling like life has knocked you down but you still got back up. He has been knocked down but never really got up again. We had these talks before, wondered if we should be dating “now” but when I asked he never wanted to take a break.

We loved each other and I believe he was given to me, brought to me to hold my hand through the death of my mother and my dear friend Becky’s end to her battle with breast cancer. We were in each others karmic path. He made his contributions to my life and I to his but not without our small scars along the way. Our relationship took him out of his comfort zones many many times and as a result hightened his anxiety. When you date someone who suffers from depression it’s like there is a third person in the relationship that silently has an impact on your life. If I am honest with myself I knew it was coming and I didn’t do anything about it.  I left it to him and one nasty fight where we both forgot to remember to be kind, forgot to listen to each other and forgot that we were defensive because of our individual baggage. It makes me sad that I didn’t rise above that line because it only would have taken one of us to soften up the other and provide a reason to allow clear heads and full hearts to prevail but we reached the end and went our seperate ways at the fork on the path of bliss.

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6/19/14 Strange things I have said #21

I was recently texting with a friend and she called me out on something weird I was saying. I started thinking about it. A few sentences or beginning of stories popped into my head.

“I dunno it was Christmas, kinda cold out, it just seemed like the ATM would be the safest place to sleep….”

“I must have pulled my shoulder rescuing that parrakeet, the uneven hill made my wedgies wobbly…”

“Then he mentiones the year he graduated and my internal voice alarm screamed COUGAR! COUGAR! COUGAR! …”

“I was using the voice to text feature, I don’t even have balls why would I tell u to lick them…”

“Don’t tell mom about the gun….”

“Fuckin’ white people…”

“Greenbean what? Mexicans don’t eat casseroles, eww…”

“My pussy hurts…”

“How funny would it be if I just answered her email “No, I won’t you cunt”….do you think I would get fired?…..

“Hey I just saw Asian muscles at Starbucks, only he wasn’t drunk…”

“Um, well I have to ask, did you try to fuck me in the ass Sunday?……”

“Now I have to deal with that god damn hooded vulva, but she’s old, I love her….”

“Painted Bird? YES! What about the part where she gets doggie styled by that horse”

“I’m not Asian”
“No I’m not black…”
“I dont know how to speak Arabic”
“I’m not mixed….”
“What?? Inuit?? No, where did you read that word…?

“It’s cause his feathers were in my face and mouth, I fell right off the stage…”

“I just resigned myself to the fact that the police were coming, so I just waited and drank my coffee….”

“Fuck her, I bet she has pink nipples…”

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I want what I want, wait what do I want again? #20

I’m the youngest of 5. My three older sisters and older brother all grew up together with 3-4 years in age. I came later, much later, 10 years later.  A real oooops I suppose.  What I do know about myself is that I have youngest and only child qualities and that can make for some difficulties, especially in relationships.  I take every relationship as a learning experience and continue to work on my 80/20. There is a theory that you really only get 80% of what you want in a relationship,  and you may want your partner to be an avid reader or have an appreciation for the arts but he/she doesn’t, but it’s ok because the 80% of what you do get keeps you happy. People often believe cheaters forever chase the 20%. The key is knowing what is in your must have 80% and what you can let go of and put it in your 20%.

This is a theory I have applied to many relationships, he is great in bed but doesn’t like to give backrubs, he compliments me and tells me I look pretty but he isn’t into going to concerts etc.  My friends and I are forever trying to figure out what is in our 80%, what can we compromise on and what are our dealbreakers.  I look at the wonderful man I am dating now and still think of taking my fluffy side sleeper pillow in the middle of the night admist his buzzsaw snores and covering his face with the full weight of my body, slowly pressing the pillow tighter till I create an unbreakable seal between his mouth/nose and the pillow.  Why the hell would I want to do that? he tells me he loves me, he wants to see me and drives 1 hour and a half regularly to spend weekends with me.  He cuddles me as I fall asleep and when I wake up in the morning.  He recently built me a side table that marveled the one I wanted to buy in a bullshit fu fu store in Oakbrook.  I literally and I do mean literally made a pros and cons list long ago to determine what was our  my 80/20.  Some of the highlights vulnerability (especially at the start), incrediably loving and supportive especially when my mother passed, great sexual chemistry,  very open minded sexually, takes responsibility, great around my friends, smart, and non judgemental.  There is much more so why do I tend to react or sometimes get stuck on the 20%?  My biggest gripe? he seems to run hot and cold which depending on if you come from my perspective or his can mean very different things.  I feel like the romantic little texts, the little sweet texts reminding me that he loves me, that he is so lucky, that he is thinking of me etc etc go a long long long way.  It’s the way to a woman’s heart and eventually her libido. It’s romance and as a youngest who usually had attention bestowed on her and is an extrovert who is accustomed to speaking up and getting what she wants this can be hard for me.  Whenever I have talked to him about this he does everything he can to respond and show me love in the way I am craving it.  He sends those sweet, caring texts he remembers to remind me of how he feels about me multiple times during the day and then it dwindles….again.  People have told me to put it in my 20% and move on but I can tell you those short little middle of the night or day texts expressing how he feels about me directly impact my connection to him.  I feel loved, cared about and important, in turn, I feel more love, care and importance for him.  I want to be more physical with him when I am romanced like that I feel more sexual, turned on, desired and desiring.

Depending on the friends I speak with, some agree, some say it’s not as important as I am making it, but perhaps it is.  Maybe I would rather trade someone who makes a lot of money for someone who would bring me a single flower, a card or a hand written note reminding me of how he feels about me. Wait not maybe I would. The things we consider uber important in our 20s are such a crock of shit. There has even been some shifting since my 30s.  Now in my mid 40s I think I am so less willing to give up on the 80% and what goes in there and if it meets my needs.  To someone else this might be minor but for me it is perhaps my love language and how I feel connected to a person, a sense of belonging.  It also no doubt fills a void from childhood, words of affirmation were not used in my household, from my parents for any of us kids.  My Dad instilled a sense of responsibility and pride you did what was right and what was expected because that’s what was modeled.  For my Dad thats how life was, you don’t do something for thr praise, glory, reward, compliments or accolades, you just do it.  My Mother on the other hand was rough and many times abusive and critical and manipulative. If she wasn’t expressing herself in this way then you were ignored…..completely. Like some ghost sitting among your siblings, everyone’s name was called for dinner except yours.  Now if you got up to get something to eat or make your plate she wouldn’t stop you but she didn’t invite or include you.  She was a master at the silent treatment and would often want your siblings to partake in not acknowledging your presence either.  We never did that to each other, well I do have one sibling that sometimes did because she was to starved form my Mother’s approval.

Real life sets in when you start a relationship the honeymoon and swoon turns to everyday routines and a comfortable compatibility.  I get that and I to a degree can accept that.  However I am realizing more and more how important the romance and verbal/physical expressions of love are to me and why.  I think for now it will remain in my 80% with a compromise that for now I will ask him for it when I need it.  Time will tell how we and I evolve.

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And the other shoe drops….. #18

The weird thing about my stories is that they have a reoccurring theme, I suppose most people’s do.  Mine I think maybe grinding  to a fine point so sharp that you almost can’t even feel the pain.  It is so close to unbearable.  I wonder if it’s my therapy of sorts,  I suppose writing is for most people.

I have started similar entries in the same way, reviewing my list of loss, be it people, relationships, pride, happiness, love,  a sense of myself, friendships,  self-reflection.   Heartbreaking.  Other losses have included the weight of the world on my shoulders,  people who haven’t loved the real me, responsibility, hurt, disappointment, selfish people,  hurtful people,  being under appreciated and minimized.  Heart mending. So I guess it balances out, I suppose it always does.   In my effortless quest to gain balance by controlling nothing I again find myself hurdled over an arch that for a short time I doubted I would clear.  On December 2 , 2013 the day before my deceased brothers birthday, my mother passed away.  December seems to be a fuck of a month for me, well my family and as you know they always seem to find themselves into my life.  December 2009 6 months after my dad passed away I was the last vote to remove my brother from life support and finally let him drift away.  My brother’s birthday is at the beginning of the month  my mother’s birthday is in the middle of the month and now like 12th month bookends my mother and brother’s death sandwich these 31 days.     In the typical lay out of my tragic events I tend balance the heartbreak and heart mend because of course with an enormous loss I also grow and cultivate a new relationship.  Enter M.  He first contacted me on October 19 on OKCUPID  late I was tired and wet, cold after the last Fire game of the season when a message came through that although short and simple made me laugh and smile.  I read the profile and knew within the first paragraph I would return the email despite never responding to people who lived far away.  The head turner ? his statement that he didn’t shy away from difficult conversations.

I played my favorite game of a  version of twenty questions.  He was game and he was good at it, very good as good as I am.  He was funny, and random, quirky, insightful, romantic, original, old school with and open mind, a quick wit and engaging.   We spoke till almost 2 in the morning before saying goodnight. A day later he wrote me again and the conversation led to us exchanging numbers and the next night texting which eventually led to a first phone call.

Right now at this very second,  I realize, I don’t even remember our first conversation.  That’s so weird but when I ask myself why, I realize this, I realize I never had a “first conversation” with this guy.  We have always spoke as if we have known each other, no awkward silences, no weird uncomfortable pauses, exchanges or realizations, never wishing I could hurry and get off the phone.   I can’t remember our first conversation because we never had one,  from the beginning it was Kismet.

Everyone once in a while you meet someone and you instantly connect like literally lock into each other like to pieces that snap together and, well, it feels easy.  I wonder how this ends up being my karmic path but it is and here I am.  To say I wasn’t close to my mother is an understatement but there was still a pang of tightness to my chest,  a great sense of loss and true sadness.  I’m sad we weren’t close and were not able to mend our relationship but I feel like I had already partly lost her and mourned that loss on and off for many years.  The role of mother that was never quite fulfilled by her but yet she still carried that title that position in my life.  The truth is I will only ever have one mother and she is completely gone now no longer a name or word or person I was reluctantly tethered to through my adulthood.   With that said I was forced to look around at my siblings, my sisters who all in some fashion and who all at different points in my life and theirs were mothers to me. Very different, very unique, teaching me things and in their own ways offering me support.  At times being the only true mother I had emotionally.  I had hoped this would draw us together but as is typical in my family it is pulling us apart, hurtful things brewing, selfishness, greed and mistrust.  My two oldest sisters cleaning out my mother’s house without myself and my other sister was probably the last dividing factor between us.

So here I am, during the 12th month sandwiched between the inter relation of heart ache and heart mend, which I suppose many people experience during this time of year for a variety of reasons, I wonder if their reasons repeat as mine have or is there yet a lesson I haven’t grasped or allowed myself to be submerged in.

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Fucking Beer and Coffee #17

Ahh it’s been a while a long while but don’t think I have become this uber well adjusted picket fence pillow princess.  Well PP sounds nice anyway. Usually I find myself here after a major life change breakups, deaths, loss of a pet, new sex or just mood change.

What has happened in my life since we last spoke. I was in a relationship with a WAY to recently divorced man, 6 months, did I learn nothing from F??? This one was all jump into commitment and frankly I have been bit by the commitment bug so I thought. With my friends getting married, having babies and purchasing home with lawns to be cared for I was left thinking, “am I missing something?” So I drank the koolaid yes I jumped into an predoomed relationship, with Jim kids and  grandkids, exes, a family with no boundaries whatsofuckeneva.  I did it. I actually enjoyed the begining I think one of things I loved about him most was his family since mine is fucked up as are most I realize.  His mother she was a gift, a sassy, sex havin, world traveling, f bomb dropping grandma.  I clicked with her immediately. First time I met her was at Thanksgiving, well I met them all that day, I had only met his son before that.  By the end of dinner she was arranging the date to have Xmas at her house and invited me and arranged to have it on a day my family would not be celebrating the holiday.   When Jim returned to the table I said to him “I hoped you planned on inviting me to Xmas because your mother just did”.   I think that’s why it was even more traumatic for me when she died 8 months later.  It reawoke so much pain from losing my brother and in the end of her days they were in the hospital, trachea tube, unable to talk, in comas the only difference is I refused to see my brother like that and never went during that time to the hospital. I only wanted support Jim and it became a point of contention me trying to be his soft place to land and his need to put on a brave face, it was one of last nails in our coffin.  Once he let me in literally I was terrified and reluctant to see his mother in such a frail and dimished state.  Her bubbly, wise crackin, cackling,  warm personality a memory as I watched her slip away.   I had fantasies that if Jim and I married I would be close with her and she would become a mother of sorts to me. I would have liked that although I realized she would have also annoyed me with her proverbial two cents here and there but in that I still love having you in my life sorta way.

The first sign of trouble with Jim was when he wanted to have sex more than I did.  He brought it up but it was only much later did I realize I didn’t want him in the same way or as frequently because he wasn’t doing it for me.  Now he is a good person and I believe has a good heart but there are things he needs to work on as we all do but he at least needs to get started.  At the start of our relationship he was plagued with sexual issues.  He had a hard time getting it up, repeatedly.  I was patient, very patient and understanding and I tried everything to help it along but frankly I couldn’t get that dick up with a crane.  He claimed it was because he was a little intimated by me a total opposite from his uneducated, got knocked up, never worked, housewife laying on the couch watching Montel ex wife.  Who incidentally cheated on him 2x once fucking their neighbor that lived right next door to them. Jim responded by putting up a tall fence and back to business as usual. RED FLAG!!!

Anyway back to to us.  So when it came time to discuss the sex or lack there of or whatever he got very defense and it always became an argument.  I never once complained about his flaccid friend but what I did complain about is that he didn’t make sure I came, that I got off,  and that was building a slow but solid resentment reservoir.   He always wanted to fuck in the morning before work but he got up at 4am and I didn’t have to get up till 630 but I wasn’t going to fall back and asleep.  On occasion it was fine but if I am going to get woken up and be dog ass tired all day then you better make it worth my while and take it to completion…..mine not just yours.

I didn’t want to to have copious amounts of sex time because I wasn’t getting off in the way I needed.  I did on occasion but it was my efforts typically or the use of a toy.  It really wasn’t until the very end literally the week we broke up that the sex got good but by then it was all grudge fucking.   The most difficult part is that EVERY SINGLE time after we had sex and we were laying there panting he would say “that was good wasn’t it”  and I tried everyway to affirm without agreeing because I knew it would end in fight because his ego was so fragile.  I would wait till later to be like “hey I didn’t cum and I really need to when we are making love, you shouldn’t just stop, try using your hand or try…..yadda yadda yadda”  My suggestions changed from time to time but his reply was always the same, he didn’t feel he could because he was afraid  he couldn’t touch me the way he wanted or that I would complain or some other shit that basically made it my fault why I just had a lousy lay.  FUCK YOU JIM and fuck me for putting up with that for any length of time.  FUCK his ego and FUCK his issues and FUCK his weak ass bullshit insecurities WE ALL HAVE THEM but we keep living life rather than fearing it.

We or I should say he dumped me early August I don’t why I held on so long partly the reliving of my losses when his mom passed, the fake stability he seemed to offer and my want to be a part of a we instead of just me.  Even as fabulous as I am I realize I do not want to be found 7 days after I have died from choking on a kalamatta olive which my face have eaten off my dog.  In this 10 month brutalness I forgot me I forgot to take care of me and put my needs first.  That hasn’t happened to me but the sickness of him mom put me in a place that made it impossible for even a bitch like to me break up or even see I was miserable and hated my life with him. I cried for about a week and then on his birthday but then each day got easier really strangely easier in a rapid amount of time.  I realized this wasn’t really love I was playing house and caretaker for everyone else.  We struggled to remain friends and he made it loud and clear that he didn’t mean it when he said he wanted to still be friendly.  I recently contacted him about his son who reached out to me and out of respect before talking with his son I contacted him to make sure he was ok with it….nothing, no response, to my attempts.  It pissed me off and bothered me that he hadn’t changed and that he was a fake ass bullshitter because he couldn’t be truthful or strong.  I quickly forgot that temporary slip and accepted his path and got back on my own.

I found a nice transitional FWB that treated my vaginal fulfillment like a sport.  Like a sport where you  are watching the MVP on his best day ever, performing with finesse, skill, commitment, passion for the game, and scoring…..repeatedly.

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8/15/12 The long and winding road #16

This indeed has been along road I have traveled. When I first starting writing this blog I was getting over two majoy deaths in my family and a major break up and the death of my dog.  Lately I have been wondering what is next in life but rather than worry about my future I will now just really discuss and write about my present.  That will basically involve funny or not so funny stories about my friends some new some old, soccer games, work and last but not least my dating life which has consisted of an almost date with a vampire but I just couldn’t go through with it and a date with an unexpected “lifestyles” expert….yes it’s what you think.  Before I move on to a very different flavor of stories I want to thank a few people who I love and who have been or who are a big part of my life and were there when I needed support the most.

Mary C, Kellie L, Nizzi, Gabriela V, my vet, my ex at times, my second ex after “the” ex, a yoga teacher, my boxing coach, Clarke, Smitty, Dawn C, Unz, Psher, Lucy, TBear, Becks even through her own battles, any book written by Susan Jeffers. You all are my blessings in life thank you.

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waiting

waiting

Time to move on…………

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4/1/12 Breathing is not optional/15

Chest pain….breathe……pain in my lungs…..hard to breathe…..nauseous… gasp….ouch….ugh…….gasp…..

I’m fighting the feeling of wanting to puke, my chest hurts, I’m holding something in, it wants to explode it wants to release,  it’s literally building up in my throat, I can’t breathe, the words are hardly coming out……

Yes, Yes, I’ll call the lawyer tonight and leave my information tonight and follow up on Monday. The conversation fades in and out of my ear my sister is saying things but I’m not hearing it all,  just ….Lawyer, call, money, just us sisters, not mom…….

My sister Lucy called me and I missed the call, for some reason I just felt a weird sick response, my sister calls sometimes but this time the missed call made me feel weird made me feel like something was happening.  I took a deep breath and peed siting on the toilet I was thinking that it might be my mother, that this might be the, THE CALL that is the one that ends the existence of my parents on this earth.  I’ve been through it before when my niece had to tell me my dad died.  I picked up the phone and dialed my sister Lucy….waiting waiting waiting CALL FAILED, shit this damn service if I had to call and ambulance to save my life TMOBILE would see to it that I would die before receiving help.  I dial again CALL FAILED, I turn off my phone and turn it on again, dial and wait as I stretch my arm up hoping that will help. I hear a ringing.

Hello?

Hi it’s me what’s up?

I called you earlier and left a message

Yeah I know what’s going on?

How are you?

I’m good what did you need?

Betty called me and she wants your address and phone number, I don’t know if you are talking to her….her voice fades

Yeah I am talking to her why does she want to my address

I don’t know

ok.

I can call her and give her that information or you can….. she interrupts,   I would just just prefer if you call her

(I am assuming she has mail that needs to be forwarded to me) What does she need it for?

You should just call her and talk to her

This is now beginning to sound ominous. We talk about possible Easter plans and she invites a boyfriend that I am no longer dating I say no but I appreciate that she has extended the offer to him. He would probably come if I asked him to he is like that.  We wrap up the conversation with a promise to touch base on times for Easter.

Dial my sister Betty it rings and my brother-in-law picks up I say hi and ask for my sister. She gets on the phone and we exchange pleasantries and then I say Lucy said you needed my address what’s up? She begins to explain.

We got lawyer and he is working on claiming Tony’s 401k  for us, if we don’t claim it the state will keep it and it will be lost.  This doesn’t include the nieces or mom just us. Just us girls, just the sisters.  It’s been over a year so the creditors can’t touch it but if we don’t act now the state will get it.  So we have to claim it and he needs each one of ours information.

Ok I say and repeat the information back making sure I understood everything. I say for us? for the sisters right? she says yes and says again not for mom in a way that tells me she doesn’t want her to know. She says  “I don’t know if you are talking to her..” I interrupt “No, I’m not” she says “good I don’t want her getting involved”. I say everyone’s names out loud again to confirm I ask if she has spoken to my sisters. She says yes.

She gives me the run down and the information of the person I need to call and I have a sick feeling creeping up I can’t get off the phone fast enough.  The second I do it all comes pouring through.  I begin sobbing, I feel like I’m going to be sick all over the kitchen, my head pounds, my chest tightens, I sob and wail harder and harder and harder.  I walk to a chair in the front room and with my elbows on my knees I cover my face and cry into the mask of my hands. Tears and snot drip from my face, I feel like I can’t breath, my chest feels tight, my ear hurts, I feel dizzy, I’m loud, I cover my eyes with the backs of my hands and gasp for a breath, it’s hard to breath, my chest hurts, I get up to walk toward the bathroom my hands on the walls keeping me balanced and upright as I walk, entering the bathroom I lean over the sink and cry harder and louder I slide to the floor and struggle to catch my breath between sobs.  I feel like throwing up I feel like I’m having a heart attack, I feel like the day I finally let the grief out and allowed myself to mourn the death of my brother.  This time the difference is that I physically feel ill, I feel like I can’t breathe, I feel like my chest is tight, I feel like I need to throw up and I can’t stop crying, loud and hard.  My hands and arms twist around covering my eyes, face head and chest at times.  I can’t make it stop. I can’t make myself stop and I don’t know why this is all coming crashing back in this way. I feel so dizzy I think I might have to go to the hospital, I struggle to breath and think I maybe hyperventilating.  Several minutes go by like this and I can’t regain control or calm myself. 15 minutes feels like 15 hours.

Why? this reaction? I’m not even exactly sure. My niece had a meltdown when she inherited money that my brother had left her she felt guilty, bad or undeserving that she should have this because the reason she was getting it was his death.  I don’t think I understood it when she told me, I knew it made her sad but I didn’t understand the depth of that. It’s hard for me to feel good about this at all on any level, it’s hard for me to think about this, it makes me feel like I’m right back at square on with the progress I’ve made in moving forward after his death.  I never suspected that all those wounds would be ripped open like this again from such and event.

The last 2 days more of his songs have came on and I skipped through them rather than listen through them I always believe he is around me and trying to communicate with me but I rushed those songs through and didn’t listen and today he was finally heard.

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Fucked up but true ass shit/14

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“True Love is one of the rarest jewels of life, treasure it with all your heart. When you find someone who loves you just as you are, is steadfast during moments of stress, willing to grow with you and allows you to feel however you choose to feel in any moment – there is nothing more you will ever find in a person. You’ve found True Love when you feel fear; fear of vulnerability, fear of abandonment and fear of letting go of your own stubborn egoic patterns that keep the real you separate and safe from the other. Trust in love and go towards your fear, taking this leap of faith in every moment is the journey Love requires for its sweet reward.”
– Jackson Kiddard, author & polymath.

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3/7/12 From Hell to Heaven in a day /13

At 4am amid racing thoughts about me, my second time around relationship attempt with F, my estranged relationship with my mother and the journey to really learn how to take risk, open up, be vulnerable to others and to be able to accept the love that others have for me and can and want to give me I went from one extreme to another on this day March 7th, I began the day crying literally sobbing in saddness typing madly on my Blackberry an email to my therapist and ended the day crying with laughter and love typing madly on my laptop a dialogue to my friends……..here are my extremes.

Because I didn’t have a nurturing parent-who hugged, consoled me when I was hurt, in pain or struggling I learned to convince myself that I didn’t need it I probably had to because I wasn’t getting it. Even more so began to believe or tell myself it was weak or pathetic to require such hand holding, or to have such dependency on someone.  Rather because I did it all for myself I thought that’s how it should always be, internal rather than external.  Now dating Fred I’m realizing what I need in a relationship-I need that support, that kind of love, I need to feel watched over, taken care of, protected, helped, and nurtured, I need a safe place to land at the end of the day.  I used to think it was such bullshit when woman needed that because I thought they weren’t independent or self-sufficient, strong, smart, wise or capable if they had to depend on others for strength, happiness, courage or support.
I conditioned myself to be able to go without seeking that, getting that or worse yet conditioned myself to not accept that from people who loved me. I never realized or understood how distant that made me from others and how I was denying myself the opportunity to be loved.  I hope to find a man that holds my heart gently, kindly and lovingly.  Someone who can hold me in their arms when I’m sad and in that moment make me feel safe.  I once remember us talking about me having to self sooth while in my last relationship. I think what know now is that I am capable of it, I’ve done it my entire life no one has ever whisked me up in their arms or come to my rescue during a weak or hard or scary moment.   I can do it but I’m so fucking tired of doing it, I’m tired of taking care of everything myself and not having that partner in my corner who is there when I need them.  I’m not blaming all past loves, on some levels they may have not been capable themselves of giving it to me but I never allowed them to love me like this either.


I think about when you said we are the little girl in relationships that hurt vulnerable scared child that craves what our hot shot competent take no prisoners alter adult ego does not.  I’ve never really acknowledged the little girl in me, I ignored her and didn’t pay attention to her just as my mother did. I denied her needs to basically make it through the day, for the past 20 something years.
She deserves to have her needs met just as I deserved as a child, just because she never had that doesn’t have to mean she never can.  She doesn’t have to take care of herself all by herself all the time, she doesn’t have to take care or her older siblings, she doesn’t have to keep everyone in line, be the voice of reason or set the family straight.   She has a right to be cared for and to feel like the little sister not the oldest sister or person in charge of everything.  She doesn’t have to always be the one to get the group gift, cook the dinner, make the phone call, send the text and she can feel ok about that knowing that she deserves to be important enough to someone else instead to receive all those things from them.

INSERT HEAVY HEARTED DAY WHERE MY EMOTIONS WERE BARELY UNDER THE SURFACE AND I WAS JUST A MESS IN GENERAL LEADING ME TO THE END OF MY DAY WHEN THINGS BEGAN TO TURN AROUND.

This email was entitled  Why Teaching Makes me Happy:

I’m going on my 4th hour of straight testing, stuck in my cave office, pounding headache mostly because when the kids read aloud they feel the need to read as though they are in a wind tunnel, or as I type this a student is going on 30 min of humming the “Star Wars” theme. Regardless I as always have another conversation that will bring a smile to your face I know it did mine.

L: Ms A, you know who’s awesome?

Me: Who?

L: You! try and remember that ok?

Me: Yeah thanks Leo (smiling big)

L: You should say it to yourself in the morning everyday don’t forget it (as he winks and points his finger at me)

Me: (Laughing)–Yes that’s a great idea I should do that more often, I will try

L: I’m just saying maybe make it your ringtone, if you think about it

Me:(Laughing harder) –I can’t think of a better idea, thank you Leo that’s really nice of you to say you have made my day for sure

L:Yeeeeah, I like giving compliments to my teachers, makes me feel all warm and tingly kinda like under my ribs

Me: That’s an interesting reaction, I can see that you enjoy making people feel good, we are lucky to have you as our student I’m really gonna miss you next year

L: Yeah……(short silence)………I’ll come visit, hey did you know I’m really good at those “that’s what she said jokes?”

Me: Great but maybe those aren’t appropriate for school but I will look forward to your visits, but I really need you to focus and get back to work now

L: Easy peasey lemon squeezy

3 min of Silence he works on a couple questions and suddenly speaks up again

L: I like you

Me: laughing to the point now where I begin to cry THANK YOU L! Thank you so much for telling me that it really makes me feel good about being your teacher. (I have to take off my glasses and wipe my eyes)

L: Hey what does optimistic mean?

Me: It means having a good attitude, so if your are having a bad day you can think “tomorrow is gonna be much better”

L: Oooooh like you do??

Me: I try (laughing harder to the point I start coughing) to which Leo pats me on the back and says……

wait for it …….wait for it…… “GO AHEAD SISTA, LET IT ALLLLLLL OUT”

Me: L you rock!!!

L: Awwww Ms. A I’m flattered to get a compliment from a woman like you-Zing! right in the heart.

Later he proceeds to burp recalling the taste of chips from his lunch…..ahhhhhhh what more could I hope for today!!!! : )

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I’m What Willis Was Talkin ‘Bout/12

So I find myself writing after much time off.   Some significant changes and some small changes have occured since  my last post some other things have, I guess in some small ways remained the same.   That should give me comfort but not always.  Since last posting the following has happened.

1. I moved out from living with my ex who I lived with for exactly one year after our breakup.  The fighting was becoming too much.  I was disliking who I was becoming and hating her for who she was.

2. The last week under the same roof when we finally began talking, at times even laughing and trying to be civil and remember we were friends I pulled out of my garage and smashed my car into hers.  I swear it was an accident.  I sat on the wet pavement in the driveway and cried for 15 minutes. 

3. I grew a closer friendship with my other ex  “F” the first guy I dated after K.   He is still in my life and an important part of it , we have been a good support for each other and great fun. He is my confidant and at times my advisor,  we tell each other everything I mean everything.  We should probably have more filters but we don’t.  As I type I’m awaiting to hear how his date went tonight, I’m a bit embarassed to admit I  feel some jealously.

4. My good friend and strongest bad ass woman I know was diagnosed with breast cancer. Within a week of that diagnosis she was diagnosed with Stage 4 Cancer which had spread to her lungs, spine, liver, both breasts and ribs.  As I write this she is in chemo and radiation.   She just shaved her hair completely off 2 days ago-she is the most beautiful person I have ever seen.  So vulnerable and strong at the same time I want to hug her and worship her simultaneously.

5. I have joined just about every dating site there is to join eharm, match, POF, yadda yadda in hopes of moving forward finding my Mr Oh so perfect for me. I have gotten various requests asking if I was DTF -Down To Fuck or nut cases with little to say and less of a brain to know when not to speak at all.

6. I have been forced to reorganize my finances now that I am living alone again. Easier said than done sometimes.

7. I have seen and met with girlfriends in different stages of their lives-a newly expectant mother, an engaged bride to be, a newly rejuvenated 40 something opening up for the first time in her life to love and letting her walls down, an intelligent woman on the cusp of a life altering moment of deciding when enough is enough with her currently married boyfriend.  I love them all I am grateful for their friendship. They force me to reflect on my life.

Since 2009 December has sucked for me, one year the death of my brother, the next the break up of my relationship, and now moving from a place I had lived for the past 8 years. I spent my holiday battling my family my mother mostly and then escaped to “F’s”  house where I finally felt relaxed.

As always I excel at work, really do well, overachieve, outperform, get the job done and make it happen.  However I have recently begun to feel like this is not translating to my personal life.  Well it never has this isnt new.  I entertain fantasies of running away to France, sitting at cafes smoking and awaiting a man that allows me to play the role of a mistress in his life.  A role that leaves us fulfilled temporarily while we are together but allows me the detachment I seem to always need and live in.  

I feel lost, I feel underwelmed and it has hit me so sudden.  The routines of daily life are boring me, I feel stagnant, I feel repetative.  I feel like other people are on fast forward or at least play but for a while I have been hitting the rewind button.  I read books, I try meditation, I “think positive thoughts” but as I sit here I feel like nothing is changing. 

I’m restarting therapy tomorrow and the thought of discussing my friend who has Cancer leaves me unsettled. I am not looking forward to revisiting the idea of loss.  I have barely started putting myself back together from the past 2 years and when I think of her I begin to unravel again.  Everything else becomes an augmented verision of loss even when its no where near a death. I  just can’t keep losing, I need stability, I need a guarantee, I need consistency.  This is so unfathomable to a person who never remained still, who ran from conformity, who wanted nothing to do with commitment and kids.   I have happiness, guilt, love, care, aggravation, disappointment, fun, carefree, heavy and guarded.  What do I want? wants and needs, just when I’m absolutely sure it changes or I realize indeed what I thought I needed or wanted was neither. 

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12/ 19/11 “To Catch a Predator” gets you Christmas Cunnilingus /11

So match.com which I am now on a break from I get an email well really a mismatched response to my “date spark”. A date spark is an idea you have for a date, it’s attached to your profile and it’s sort of an ice breaker if someone wants to talk to you but no one uses it like this. Especially Arrested. I’ll call him Arrested because our first conversation was solidified buy our twisted senses of humor and our love for Arrested Development.

He responded despite the fact that he lives in Texas to my “date spark” my date spark is to go to the contemporary art museum in the city and his response to it was “good kissers are so hard to find.”  I NEVER respond to out of towners they annoy me because I think I’m not in the same town WHY WHY WHY do you write? I usually delete, I usually ignore but NOOOOOOOO not this time and the result was 6 orgasms.

After literally 1 email we were on the phone ripping on each other, talking about our favorite shows and spinning an analogy that had me as Charlie collecting a GOLD TICKET and him as Willy Wonka offering to redeem it for outstanding make out session.  The conversation flowed; we practically stepped on each other  finishing  each other’s sentences, punch lines, dirty comments, smartass remarks and weird vocabulary. To say we were in sync is an understatement. He offered well…..anything I wanted. He was originally from Chicago and was coming to visit family for Xmas, he missed Chicago and all the food it has to offer such as Lou Malnattis pizza and Portillos.  We joked he would show up with a pizza, we’d drink some beer, watch some Arrested or Sunny in Philadelphia and make the fuck out all night and if it lead to something else such as me getting great oral—so be it …..it was all up to me.

Hmmmmmm let me get this right, you are basically telling me you will come over and go down on me? Yep.  Who would turn this down? Probably most people since this person essentially was a total stranger, every once in a while that would creep back into my head and give me some hesitation but I felt like I knew him, after all the late night talks till 3am and sometimes very very flirty borderline sexual conversation I felt like I knew him and could possibly accept this Christmas Cunnilingus.  I mean if someone offers to come over and service you, well  damit you give it some consideration……right?  It was like a romantic comedy without all the bullshit, I mean, yes, it is easier for woman to get sex than perhaps men but I’ve never had someone so brazen and so directly tell me in 15 different ways that they would eat my cookie repeatedly.  It became a joke where I would repeat it back saying I was having trouble reading between the lines.

He was my Santa willing to go South. He was funny, charming, direct, bold, a potty mouth, a twisted little shit that could banter with me to the wee hours of the morning, make me laugh, make me think, and dare I say call my ass out. All three which act as aphrodisiacs for me in fact it’s like the trifecta. I was curious, I was intrigued, I only maintained a slight hesitation, I was very bluntly turned on he knew it and I knew it I was the only one pretending to be coy.

Eventually that night came it was the Monday after Xmas we made plans for him to come over I gotta say the anticipation was killing me. He stopped to get a pizza which I thought was for us but he had eaten pizza earlier with his family and so got a delivery from a guy that was coming over to go down on me and fuck me…..it was like a porno except before I got to sucking him off we cuddled up on the couch and watched TV for a while.  He did everything he could to make me feel comfortable and stating “don’t ever do this with anyone else but me, you couldn’t and I don’t recommend it.”  He offered to give me his mother’s address and even call her, or call my friend and give him info to know that I was safe.  He was harmless he was another horny man who wanted to get some…

Getting back to the TV,  here is where it gets interesting, originally we spoke about watching Sunny in Philadelphia and laugh our asses off but as I flipped through the channels I was more excited to see a marathon of “To Catch a Predator” with Chris Hanson.  When this show was on I watched it faithfully, I watched it on the phone with my friend Joe who lived in CT as we gave each other play by play commentary. I mean this show was like the Superbowl to me! and Arrested was in hook line and sinker, of course great minds right?

We snuggled up, YES snuggled up and watched pedophile after pedophile get “trapped” by the undercover cop that looked like a preteen with a chipmunk voice. We sat on edge as we watched for Chris Hanson to emerge from behind that curtain like Johnny Carson ready to deliver a monologue and welcome us to tonight’s show. We laughed and commented and somehow were still shocked at what we saw even though we had seen most of them.

Eventually our cuddle led to us laying down and spooning and during commercials we made out and then returned to the stories of the perverts. We wanted to have sex but we also wanted to watch this show. After one long series of commercials our makeout session got hotter and we began fondling each other and my blouse was unbuttoned and my bra undone as he teased and aroused my nipples we heard Chris Hanson say “but the transcript says you wanted to bend him over and FUCK him up the ass”.  He literally spit out my tit and began laughing, we couldn’t keep doing this it was entertaining but beginning to kill the mood.   We decided to switch shows.

After one episode of Sunny we were on our way to my bedroom. We had already spoken a bit about some of our preferences in bed but his direct nature and take charge attitude left nothing at all to chance.  He was assertive and aggressive but still collaborative closely incorporating my wants and desires by asking me or by responding to the reactions I was having. He talked dirty—*sigh* this is something I like, it’s rare but it works for me, he was directive, inquisitive and dirty in conversation.   Again THIS WORKS FOR ME.  It was a perfect combination of what I had been needing and wanting.  He was particularly masterful at oral really getting directly to the source and repeatedly getting me off.  I helped and participated, my body literally tensed up, trembled, shook and spasmed …..repeatedly, but he never stopped I had to push his head up and away when I couldn’t take anymore.  There was no zone that went unattended when he asked how I wanted it I told him from behind and he immediately moved into position.  My body responded and as his did his, he slowed down and stopped himself from climaxing too soon to prolong it for me, he continued to please me as before he was ready to resume. The dirty talk was in full swing we were both turned on and ready to climax.  He asked me to let him know when and as he was literally speaking that sentence a loud I began to cum and moan loudly and so did he. He immediately went down again and I almost snapped my neck arching my back so hard.  I was breathing hard, relaxed but jumpy to the touch and uber sensitive like pins and needles were all over my body.

We laid in bed talked, told each other stories, I scratched his back and drank water.  We laughed at what he was going to tell his parents as he walked in the door at 2:30 am when his Dad asked where he was. We got up after almost an hour and got dressed then moved to the couch again snuggling up and resumed watching To Catch a Predator, he left about a half hour later, I ate the personal pizza he had brought me and watched Chris Hanson question perverts as I giggled at the perversions I had just indulged in.   All I want for Xmas was Casual Cunnilingus and Santa sure delivered.

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