#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.”

#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.

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.

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…”

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.

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.

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.

waiting

waiting

Time to move on…………

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.