The Chosen Ones

Truth hurts. Badly. I have finally taken off the blinders and realized that my Prince Charming is nothing more than a retard in tin foil, and it had me at unknown levels of pisstivity…at both of us. At myself for continuing to believe and give the benefit of the doubt and at him for being a spineless, mealy mouthed, immature liar. I wanted to inflict pain, hurt and damage but not AT him…I found out the hard way that you will never hurt someone on the level they hurt you, so I was planning an indirect attack. Kind of like when the drug cartels kill your family and let you live (probably maimed and dismembered in some way, but you are still breathing)…it was war and MG was going to be a casualty of said war. I was going to call immigration on her ass…the way I see it, it was a win-win. IF she is legal, show ICE your papers and green card; if not legal, PC/CP would finally get a chance to show off his attorney skills if he has any. Morning Person actually hung up the phone on me because I was scouring immigration websites and California public records while talking to her. She did not want to be an accessory at anytime or in any sense.

While I may be a foolish, foolish woman when my emotions are involved…I cannot do this anymore to myself, because at this point…it’s me who is breaking my heart. I have no problems popping open an umbrella and calling it rain when you are pissing on me, but no way can I allow you to throw shit in my face and be able to call it mud. There is no need to ask why, no need to curse the man out…the fact that he could not find five minutes to show care/concern or offer support and encouragement when I was in the hospital or to even ask follow up questions (how are you feeling? Is everything going okay?) tells me more than I ever wanted to know about him. Either I was blinder than a bat in a coal mine at midnight or PC/CP has one HELL of a representative because the amazing, wonderful man who was so special and different is nothing more than a lying, cowardly, disrespectful Pillsbury Dough Bitch. Period.

So I am accepting the fact that it is over and there is no happily ever after, no happy ending here. Stop missing what it was, realize what I gained from the experience and move forward. Me accepting Acceptance regarding the man I called a game changer and The One is weird….not angry, not pity party but kind of wtf. Not sure if it is my blood sugar acting up, lack of orgasms in my life or me needing attention and distractions but now I am thinking of the women I lost out to despite every ex/man saying I am so many positive, wonderful things. Not in a comparison sort of way but in a “I am a GREAT person and what the hell happened here” kind of way. (Chef says I tend to become more demanding as the relationship escalates) Which will probably come across as judgmental, critical and bitchy but I promise you…I am only stating facts and observations. Mostly unbiased observations.

Married Man: He stayed with his wife…no big surprise there and trust me when I tell you, that is exactly what I wanted. No way was his lying, manipulative and BROKE ass coming to live with me in a studio apartment with his 7 kids. No way was I going to be doing babysitting duty while he ran around town with other women. What struck me about his wife was that she was pretty much the exact opposite of me. Petite in every sense of the word: five feet tall and not even 120 pounds. Incredibly dark, tons of makeup and ghetto all the time. Hell, she was even dumber than me. The woman holds all the financial cards in that marriage: the house, the tax business and all the cars are in her name, so why hang in there with a man who is a serial cheater (it would be strange if he didn’t have another woman) and has saddled your union with 7 kids NOT by you? Even Tammy Wynette would have hit the road a long time ago.

Him: BTH/BTGD was a surprise but again she wasn’t. I always knew I was the exception and not the rule when it came to what he liked. My whorishness was restricted to the bedroom and to him…I do not walk around looking slutty nor did I have sex with every man who looked my way and tell him about it. I did allow him to compare my talents and prowess to his dead ex wife and accepted his kinks and perversions…and let us not forget the 5 hour blowjob. One would think that would be enough. When it came to black women, he does like a fuller figured one but he likes them…flashy. Lots of makeup, big jewelry, low cut blouses and too short skirts. He likes them to take charge, especially financially…and when I am in a committed relationship…I am not asking for your money. I want to give myself to you freely. So no, in those respects, BTH/BTGD is not a surprise. The surprise is the fact she has THREE kids (two still in school) and is unemployed….Him was put-both-feet-down adamant about any woman of his not having school age children and having a job. Not sure what she did/said to make him change his mind but going with true love here. I hear she is very nice and friendly albeit ghetto in every sense of the word. Did I tell you he took her to the Island’s holiday party and her outfit was so inappropriate, co-workers actually asked who brought the fat, black hooker? Yeah, it MUST be true love. It allows one to be blind, deaf and totally accepting.

AFO: Craigslist bar sluts and hookers. Nuff said.

PC/CP: You know, when he told me Mexican was his favorite, I thought the man actually meant food. The MG was completely out of left field and she is a surprise. PC/CP has always said he has no set type when it comes to women and apparently the work they do… his ex is an average height, average weight school teacher; I am a black amazon balancing administrative and IT skills and randomly placing online ads. MG is the same age as me, petite and a babysitter. And I KNOW this is going to sound judgmental, stereotypical and probably racist, but seriously… the woman has been here “awhile”(he knew her 20+ years ago) and cannot read or speak English, can barely spell Spanish and living many people deep in not the biggest space…(should smack the man for saying my studio was “crowded”)….but this is what your happily ever after is? I thought an elevated intelligence, white collar position and a fluency in this country’s language would be an attraction, not a deterrent. Especially when the man says you are beautiful, fun, passionate and there is something indescribably exciting about you. Unfortunately, he said nothing about knowing a foreign language being a deal breaker and even then, I am still out of luck…all I know is high school French. Not taking away from MG…she is not ugly (but I am still saying…seriously??) and probably not dumb, and I am sure she is a great mother to her children. She seems sweet and naïve and probably believes in PC/CP implicitly. He is probably more comfortable with a woman less experienced than he is and willing to let him take the lead even when it is obvious he has no idea which direction he is headed. His spelling is atrocious, and not that is an indication of intelligence level (although in my book it is). Duct tape is “duck” tape , heals is “heels” (and vice versa) and he mixes up the woman/women thing all the time. He is fluent in textese which makes him sound like a teenager, he lacks ambition/initiative, definitive goals/plans, is totally confused in all aspects of his life (at least that is what he shows me…) and did I mention he is a cheater and spineless liar? There is a reason MG married someone else the first time around and why his ex left him, married another and changed her name within six months of the divorce. Buena suerte (for us English speaking folks, that means good luck) with that, MG.

I have no idea why I am still single, why it did not work out with at least two of the guys. Maybe I need to run out and pop out a couple of kids, learn Spanish and put my tits on a retractable platter…then I would be considered a contender and just maybe land the brass ring. But no longer blaming myself…I tell you and show you who I am up front and only mixed signals I send is when my crazy gets out of control. And 99% of the time, the man triggers the crazy with his lies and stupidity. If only I could find a guy with PC/CP’s height, acceptance, attentiveness and understanding; the passion/chemistry I had with Him; the time Married Man seemed to have to spare and AFO’s sex drive…I would become a 5’4” Asian chick with big tits and flat belly if that is what he wanted. Seriously, a man with all that AND single with no kids would be my all in one and I KNOW he is out there somewhere. Maybe I need to send out the bat signal.

Okay, this post is a little longer than I intended….going to wrap it up and let you readers get back to your lives. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…enjoy your day!

Sugar, Sugar

Well, it has been a week since I have discovered I am a diabetic and the incredible amount of love, support, concern and encouragement from my family, my co-workers and my real/true friends has been overwhelmingly incredible. And maybe I am not taking my diagnosis seriously enough, but after hearing stroke, cancer and brain tumor…Thank GOD it’s diabetes (although I swear my right eye is really droopy). Diabetes is something I can control, diabetes is something we all know something about regarding both causes and treatment and I have friends (both Policeman and Mini-Me are diabetics) and family members who have the disease to offer advice, tips and extra support. And I am not calling it a disease…it is a condition that can be changed, that can be controlled and that does not define anyone who has it unless they allow it to.

My convalescence has been at times restful, at times hectic (my first full day home I ran down batteries on both cell and landline phones from all the phone calls and text messages) and I am a little scared at how easily I can check my blood sugar levels and inject insulin (10 units at night). When asked how I feel about my diagnosis, my response was (and will always be: I am on pins and needles!). The long hot showers are a blessing…the hospital stay was horrible from a personal hygiene standpoint: birdy baths at a sink with a cake of soap so thin, you could see through it. Toothpaste so cheap, it did not even cut the morning breath and a toothbrush so flimsy it bent in my hand. Deodorant that was so watery, it actually dripped off the roller ball….and people wonder where the hospital smell comes from. It comes from the patients. My hair got so dry and nappy, I broke the comb trying to untangle the sheep’s ass sitting on top of my head. And on Day 2, one of the staff there who wheeled me to one of the 10,000 tests I had to take actually told me that I was beautiful. I have him wanting a green card.

Eating/diet has not been as bad as I thought it would be, mainly because I have not cut anything from it. I have reduced portions A LOT and the highest my sugar has been since being on my own with the condition is 226…the lowest is 116 but I had not eaten anything since breakfast. I simply was not hungry (the sugar pills leave me full) but I have been admonished that I HAVE to eat, so I will try to make sure I keep healthy snacks, salads and sandwich stuff on hand. I was also told no melons of any kind, no bananas, no strawberries or white grapes. Well, hell…there goes my fresh fruit save oranges and thinking if orange juice is a no-no (and I loooove orange juice)…all fruit juices are a no-no….oranges may be a no-no also. I also need to ask/research what to do about breakfast since I am returning to work. I have instant oatmeal getting real old, real quick. It is so easy to fix healthy, pampering breakfasts when you have nowhere to go and all the time in the world, but what do I do as a working girl who chronically oversleeps and cannot afford to be even five minutes late (save for metro delays)? Hard boiled eggs are not the answer…I will be in public surrounded by people. You do not want to know what hard boiled eggs do to me….and if I eat them at work, people will know.

Smoking is something I have been nagged about for years (I keep telling folks if you cut me, there is no blood…only nicotine) and apparently folks thinks my diagnosis gives their argument even more credence. And I understand…I really do….but if threats of lung cancer and emphysema have not stopped me, a brand new diagnosis is not going to deter me. Yet. I have been toying with the idea of quitting for a little bit…first off, cigarettes are the new crack: damn near $10/pack and when you are out of them, regardless of health and weather and even when threatened with overdraft fees damn near $40…you are going to get them. Second, I have been smoking cigarettes for 30 years. That is a long time and I am actually getting tired of smoking…it is more habit than anything at this point. And lastly, I am smoking more than ever….at least a pack and a half per day. I am smoking more cigarettes than there are hours in a day. Not good. So yeah, quitting may happen….cannot say when or why, but it is something I am finally considering.

The strength in my body is coming back….my legs may look limp spaghetti noodles but they no longer feel like it. Feeling is being restored to my left side and I have even lost weight! Not sure about too much weight loss though….according to PC/CP, I have enough clothes in my closets and apartment to fill a chain of stores (he is not far off) and not trying to rebuild a wardrobe. Can’t afford it. The one thing that is still around and is a source of anxiety for me is the sexual dysfunction. Despite still having numbness “down there”, I do get aroused and actually have no problem running the race, but I can.not. cross the finish line! Do you have ANY idea how absolutely FRUSTRATING that is?? Jesus. Oh, and the sugar pills (2000 mg/day) give me explosive diarrhea pretty much immediately after I eat…wondering how anyone can still have diabetes when the food does not sit long enough to digest. I actually shit my pants walking my neighborhood the other night…trust me on this: when you are on sugar pills, there are no more farts. You skip the preliminaries and get straight to the nitty gritty.

So all in all, I am pretty much ME again (except for the whole sexual dysfunction thing) ….and that is a good feeling. Trying to become more laid back and surprisingly enough, I am moreso when NOT in what passes for a relationship in my world. It is just so much easier to relax (as PC/CP always admonished me to do) when one is not waiting for lies and crazy to pop off. Also need to eliminate stress and those who cause it…we will see how that works out . You guys know me….staying in the moment, letting things unfold naturally and letting go are not strong suits and I am too much of a romantic to NOT try (yet) again in love. But, taking everything one day at a time or trying to.

As always, thanks so much for stopping past and reading and check back soon for more posts and as usual….enjoy your day!

Weapon of Choice

The ending to the PC/CP situation is nerve wracking. I want to interfere, I want to stir the pot, I want to ask him why in the hell he returned if he cannot even talk/text, even when my health hangs in the balance. I want to ask who or what has caused this change in him, why is he different, why are things so strained between us? Obviously, things with the MG are more serious than he let on ….who knew eating tacos, huevos rancheros and speaking Spanish for the rest of his life was his dream come true? And obviously, he wants no distractions when it comes to that. So why not be truthful with me? He has had too many opportunities to do so and even when confronted with the truth, either lies or says nothing. I want to know why I cannot leave the lost cause alone (seriously, lay the burden down). Really, I get it…I want it to work, we have overcome everything else..we can make it through this. But after awhile, hanging in there gets old and is simply All that is happening is resentment is building and I am remembering that the hardware store up the street sells sledgehammers.

It has dawned on me that I always end up wanting to perform acts of physical violence to my exes, and it isn’t anything new. Physical violence has been my answer lots of times: there was the time I chased First Love (the one who introduced me to the world of addiction) down a major thoroughfare butt naked wielding a butcher knife; the time I beat a girl’s ass, tossed her off a balcony and then dragged her into rush hour traffic for knocking crack out of my hand because she was pissed I bought the last of someone’s supply; the girl at the transitional house who made snide, hurtful comments about a scandal Married Man and I were caught up in (we we caught having sex in a very public place…I almost went to jail, he got fired and everyone in town was talking about it); when I told her to meet me outside, she refused to move from her chair so I picked her up (chair and all) to carry her outside. My reputation still lingers on the streets…Cuz (who lives close to my old stomping grounds) says he still hears stories of Big Bird, the ass kicking bitch.

Even though I am now in recovery and a productive member of society, when faced with random and inexplicable acts of fuckery, physical violence is still my first thought . Sometimes, people need to SEE and FEEL that you actually do mean what you say. Fortunately, I have my Panel to talk me down , not loan me vehicles and remind me I really do not want to go to jail/prison and wear orange every day. They remind me that I enjoy my freedoms, shopping and sleeping in too much. In today’s post, as a way of passing time and posting something slightly different, I am going to list the weapons I wanted to use on various exes and give the reason why. If nothing else, it should be entertaining.

Married Man: I wanted to slice him up with a knife. A long, sharp knife. A machete, actually. The embarrassment, lies, humiliation and disrespect I suffered at his hands had me wanting to slice him up…face, arms, legs, groin area. His perversions (the puppets making him horny still has me shaking my head) and the fact I actually had to ask if he were a pedophile (seriously, there is something wrong with a man who did everything naked and sexual with either Disney Channel or cartoon Network on) had me thinking castrating him would be the best thing ever. His wanting to dip his wick in anything bigger, blacker and uglier than me had me worshipping Lorena Bobbit as one would worship a goddess. In the end, I settled for putting him in closets and withholding sex, but I wanted to carve him up physically the way he carved me up emotionally.

Him: the man who first violated my trust issues, the one who I completely fell in love with, the one who caused my mental break with reality. The man who took one look at a big tittied hooker/gold digger and forgot all about me. I had a twofold plan for him: first, was to douse everything in his house (including his beloved sports car) in deer piss…you may forget me, but you will NEVER forget that smell. Tack on the fact that deer piss is pungent the only way to get the odor out is to burn the offending item, he would have to burn everything. To the ground. Then once he was butt naked and homeless and had lost the one possession he loved more than life itself (the sports car), I would put a bullet through his brain. I figured with all the fat and rocks up in there, it would ricochet around and cause maximum damage.

AFO: This asshat could not contact me anyway except via my ads , could not remember my name, ignored me for months on end and reduced me to a pair of tits and a pair of feet in white socks…and had the nerve to be pissed at me for not giving him another chance and rejected me when I first found out about PC/CP and the MG. I was quite creative with what I wanted to do to him….I wanted a bed of nails…tall enough and wide enough to cover an entire wall, and then I wanted to throw him onto it. I may nto be able to hurt the man emotionally ( I do not think anyone can), but he would damn sure feel pain with that.

PC/CP: Because I am trying to remember this as a fun fling and not have hatred towards him and what it is currently, I do not want him dead or injured too badly, so my weapon of choice for him is a sledgehammer. I would break both his kneecaps (which would be a favor…both his knees have degenerated to the point they both need replacing. As another favor, I will even let him have the xylocaine I stole before I do so) and smash the front and back windshields of his vehicles. The two acts involve efforts (which he is definitely lacking now when it comes to me…hell, they are non-existent), money (crimping his cross country flights) and pain. Although I do believe he does not do what he does intentionally or maliciously (he is just that damned stupid) and that he may be the one man I do hurt as much as he hurts me…he needs to feel it on the level I do. Yeah, I am a tit for tat sort of chick and if you cannot take it, stop dishing it. One good thing about the sledgehammer, when PC/CP reaches the status of the first three, that sledgehammer would put a nice sized hole in his head…to match the other ones already there.

Of course, I hope you readers are smart enough to know I would never actually utilize weapons in a way to end someone’s life or even utilize the weapons period. I am a dirty fighter but not that dirty. No, these weapons and the ways I would use them against these men live strictly in my imagination and dreams. Let’s consider it a coping skill. It is a way of releasing my anger against both myself and them and ideally, it takes the focus off them but in my twisted labyrinth of a brain, even when faced with what were their faults, their flaws and why it just was doomed from the start…I still wonder what is it with me, why can’t I find love? But I am going to shelve my pursuit for love and personal relationships for now…I have health issues that need my full attention and a job that I need to be applying my efforts towards. There just isn’t enough time to dwell on what was or to put efforts towards people who do not see them, appreciate them or want them. I am sick and tired of being the understanding, patient and supportive one only to get the shit end of the stick each and every time. Apparently, when it comes to relationships, I am the one doing it wrong.

Going to wrap this post up…need to be domestic, get a shower, take a nap and write a couple more posts which I am crossing fingers will not be PC/CP or relationship related. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…enjoy your day!

Cloud in the Silver Lining

So much has happened since I last posted…all I can say is 2014 is starting out to NOT be my year and while nothing I write today is funny in the least, I am going to try to put a humorous spin on it because sometimes one has to laugh to keep from crying, and with that I am going to dive right in.

You all know PC/CP and I have been having issues…rather, he has been different for no reason and offering no reason for being so and things have been strained to say the least. I admit, at first it was me with my trust issues and being hurt/angry but I meant what I said about putting it behind me/us and just staying in the moment…and it is as if as soon as I made that decision, he made the decision to act a complete asshole. The man was not speaking (I actually spent an entire weekend having a one sided conversation), could not say thank you for the job leads I was sending him and my most basic of greetings went unacknowledged. I thought all kinds of things: MG had made the cross country move; he had yet another woman; he thought he was feeling too much of something for me and decided to withdraw; he really did not want to be here with me and was too chickenshit to say so…thoughts ran on and on and finally, I took the bull by the horns and asked him outright what the hell was his problem. What he was offering was not friendship…it is putting me on a shelf until he figures out what he wants to do with not only me, but with his 23 year old ghost of a girlfriend. He was being rude, flaky and disrespectful and if this is how regular church attendance and being happy with someone (did not specify who because who knows with that fool) made him act, he was doing it wrong. Period.

PC/CP comes back with our expectations of friendship are different…talking/texting everyday is more than friendship in his opinion. YET, all I heard when we were texting constantly was that it was JUST friendship. We had shelved expectations when the Daddy aspect blew up in his face..well, we kind of shelved expectations. Nothing really changed and Daddy was still very much present. When we reconciled, we were still talking all day, every day. He said he could still offer me a relationship, then retracted it three days later. Now, he is saying the one thing he COULD offer (conversation, texting, phone calls) is MORE than friendship?? I went ballistic and this is where the second part of this not being my year comes into play: while cursing him out via text, a pain shot up my arm and left my right side incredibly weak immediately followed by numbness and tingling in both hands and feet. I had a loss of balance and coordination (I stood up and stumbled backwards and my team told me to “watch myself”)…I just KNEW I was having a stroke, but I said nothing. I stopped texting, finished out the day as best I could and even went to the grocery store to stock my cabinets and fridge. Hell, I was still smoking while raging against PC/CP for being such a huge stress factor, my health was now affected.

The next two days were a little scary: weak on my right side, numb as hell on my left side (I felt nothing and could not discern hot, cold, soft, sharp) but it was the fact that when I went to masturbate and could not feel ANYTHING that I decided it was time to go back to the ER. (I had done a quick visit earlier in the week and they said it was a pinched nerve) This time was different…maybe because it was a brand new crew who looked like the interns on Grey’s Anatomy or because it was a pretty slow night but this time around, I was admitted. I had diagnoses of a brain tumor, throat cancer, the pinched nerve was now in my spine versus my shoulder and maybe I actually did have a stroke. Reminded me of that episode of Grey’s where there was a prize for the intern who identified the mystery diagnosis. I was told I was being admitted at midnight (6 ½ hours after coming in) for extensive testing, but was placed in an exam room for the next 8 hours…I could not sleep because I was awoken every hour, asked to repeat my story and symptoms. I stole medication (I have been watching ID Channel and thinking the xylocaine I now have in my possession will come in handy at some point for someone deserving of it) and tried to raise hell by threatening to leave and come back to speak to a neurologist but by 8:30am, I was in a room…in the cardio unit although I was a neuro case. The staff was amazed at my wonderful heart graphs/charts and my incredible blood pressure. I hated being hooked to a machine the entire time.

After a CT scan, an MRI (my ears are STILL ringing and yes, I am slightly claustrophobic), countless strength exercises and enough blood drawn to fill an elephant (my arms bear the bruises of the pin cushion effect) …I am a diabetic. My blood sugars fluctuated between 184-245 which I thought was pretty good but apparently it is high. I blame it on the fact that as a society, we hear such outrageous numbers in the upper hundreds that my numbers are like…seriously? But not playing with this…going to take my meds as prescribed and really get serious about the portion control and eliminating extra/unnecessary sugars from my diet. Oh, did I tell you about the nurse who told me when I said I was hungry (14 hours since I last ate) that with my sugar level, I cannot possibly be hungry? I looked at her and told her I did not care if I should or should not be hungry…I WAS. And I was there when a patient passed away…the wails, crying and questions of her family were heartbreaking but the staff went about business as usual. It is a hospital after all…life and death live there.

So after three days in the hospital, I am home with a notebook filled with prescriptions and wondering if I can finish off my leftover Chinese…it has meat, veggies and rice. And I have sugar pills and insulin. Oh, and I did tell PC/CP what happened but no word. I heard from family members, and all of my friends, but the man who insists he IS my friend even with no communication? Not even a “sorry to hear that”. I guess our stalemate is now a checkmate….but I have compromised and accommodated way too much at this point. Beginning to wonder how I felt he was worth the efforts to begin with but in the beginning…he was perfect for me….one of us just did not have the staying power. I admit I have high expectations but I only do so based off what I am offered in the beginning…maybe being insecure and needy does not help the cause but neither does his indecisiveness, lies and secretiveness.

Well, I have caught everyone up on everything…time to go fill my prescriptions and set up follow up appointments and prepare to go to work at some point this week. Still feeling weak and numb but not as bad as it was before the hospital visit. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

Relationship Rehab

I have had a wonderful and amazing talk with UTA. And it came right on time…I am in a funk/depression. Ever since I decided that I was simply not going to try again EVER with PC/CP, I lost all energy to do anything. I did not go to work for three days (maybe four if Monday does not offer anything new) and kept my ass glued to a mattress the entire time. I got up to shower twice, cook a pot of spaghetti and to use the bathroom. I overdosed on daytime television and even used a commercial for mesotheslioma (probably misspelled) to diagnose myself: “How did I get this disease? What are my treatment options? How will this affect my loved ones?” I talked to no one except Artsy Craftsy and Morning Person on a somewhat regular basis. So a chat/talk with the friend who gets me and is such a comfort to me was very welcome.

The purpose of the talk was twofold…she wanted to know how I was holding up but also needed to vent about a situation she was facing, and while I cannot tell her situation (she has a blog and will talk about it publicly should she choose), I will say I understand, I have been there but not on the level she is facing and if no one else understands…I do. And great friend that I am, I am going to inbox UTA to tell her what I cannot say here. UTA and I talked, Facebook stalked, agreed we needed bottles of wine, chocolate and greasy Chinese food to accompany our chat, bashed the BTH/BTG (Him’s wife), wondered why men were so stupid and agreed that PC/CP was a woman with a penis. No balls, just a penis and we are only giving him that because I have seen it. Twice.

BUT, I can talk about my craziness and stupidity. I have been Facebook stalking again…and more than ever and I have gotten sloppy. I accidentally sent Mexican Girlfriend a freaking friend request! I got no sympathy from anyone…after laughing until tears fell UTA, Artsy Craftsy and Morning Person all told me that is what the hell I get. (I was able to retract the request…thank goodness for a three hour time difference) I have been on the internet looking for his condo/townhouse (NO idea why) and I now know how his place is laid out. Hell, for all I know, that could be his furniture in the pics. I know I have it bad…but like UTA, I find the current turn of events totally unacceptable. And I have been wracking my brains WHY I cannot just let go, take a step back and take a deep breath. It is obvious that he is not the man I fell for and whatever happened between whoever has changed him; it is apparent the man is a liar, noncommittal, lame, has not as much to offer as previously thought and is somewhat of a coward. Our conversations are short, sporadic and typical of one held between acquaintances. Besides, letting go can only be a good thing…once I finally let go of Him, PC entered, and he was better than Him. Letting go means that better than PC can enter…but I am like a stubborn mule, holding onto the intangible.

There are a lot of factors at play with my tenaciousness and surprise, surprise…Hope is not among them. Even she knows when to toss in the towel. The first factor is Ego: I am the one who he has spent so much time with the past 5 months, I am the one he says knows more about him than anyone, I am the one he says made him stop his search for women. I am the one he has had sex with, I am the one he says makes him happy. I am the one he says is beautiful, fun/funny, intelligent, creative and kinky. I am the one he says is the strong, amazing one. He is the one I am willing to become outdoorsy for and in more than a sex in public places kind of way. So no way in hell is 4 days with a Spanish speaking ghost from 23 years ago going to rip the best happiness I have had in YEARS from my hands. No way. IF she is a major player in his life, IF he is making future plans with her…that is well and good but that is the future. At this point in time, she is 3,000 miles and a three hour time difference away and I am here. For the first time since we met, I am finally willing and almost ready and able to stay in the present moment..and now he is shutting down.

The second factor is love…yeah, I admit it. I fell for PC/CP and hid it pretty unsuccessfully from everyone but him. The fact that he accepts me just where I am, deals with and understands the crazy and issues, the way he touched that part of me that craves the Daddy aspect he brought into the relationship, the attention, the validation…yes, I love him. And I feel I need to be more understanding of his crazy/strange/weirdness…I feel I am not “going with the flow” despite the fact that I have compromised almost all I want(ed) from him in an effort to work within his limitations and boundaries. Love tells me that the honeymoon is over, he is stressed and it is time to be patient and work on making us work. He gave me what I needed, can I do the same? Love tells me PC/CP came back for a reason and it is not to leave me dangling but maybe he needs to sort out his demons, reasons and decisions..I can give him a little more time. He will snap out of his funk and I will have all I wanted and more.

The third factor is lack of distractions…the man would not be all up in my head and heart if there was ANYTHING or ANYONE else on the horizon. Maybe I need to stick to anyone because I would want to tell him about classes, exercise regiments or anything else that did not involve someone else potentially replacing him, and I am here to say that lack of distractions is utter bull.shit. Not even work is a distraction…in the slow periods when the techs are busy actually working, my tickets are caught up and the window is empty…I want to talk to PC/CP more than ever. And not because I am bored, but because then I can give him my undivided attention. Artsy Craftsy does her best to fill the void but it just isn’t the same. I did have two chat prospects who both lived in the same town PC/CP has a mother dying of cancer so was not surprised when he ceased communication; the second claimed to be practicing radioactive medicine full time, in school full time and his spelling (he spelled truly “truelly”) coupled with his lack of time made him not viable at all. And maybe there are no distractions because I need to put my faith in my Higher Power and wait for an answer to my prayers.

So this was my two days in relationship rehab. And because there is no more I can do, because there is nothing I can control here…I have to just sit still and do nothing. Grieve because my happily ever after is not coming to fruition, heal because I cannot carry around the hurt, anger and frustration. Work on me some more. Typical process stuff I have been trying to avoid for almost a month. Shore up my faith and strength to accept answers that have probably already arrived and I refuse to see…. I know you guys have been reading the same thing over and over. I know I am a wreck…but this time we have emergency personnel on the scene and fire extinguishers at the ready. I am just refusing the treatment.

Thanks so much for hanging in there with me and as always…thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

Fool Me Twice

We are still trying. Not sure if PC/CP and I are gluttons for punishment or wrapped in crazy and delusion. Obviously, we are retarded. Not sure of we are even in the same book at this point; definitely we are not on the same page. I want a relationship. A real time, face time relationship…he is insistent that we have a friendship that is text/phone only. We can figure the rest out as we go along. Except no one knows (not even him) his definition of friendship. I can just see that either blurring all kinds of lines and boundaries or he remaining aloof and distant, save the day or two a week his meds seem to be working. I want to end this…I do not want us hating each other with me being a shrew and he being an emotional bully and I do not want either of us settling. He deserves someone who can accept his limitations unconditionally and I deserve to not have to wander outside a friendship/relationship to seek out intimacy and sex.

But we are like (unhealthy) magnets…we keep coming back to each other. And when I am not texting with him, I feel a physical craving to do so. He pops up out of the blue abyss of silence to ask random questions. My suggestion of just staying in touch lasted not even 24 hours. I had to restrain myself from saying goodnight, good morning and ask how his day was going. He reached out at lunchtime to tell me about his weekend (it was busy and he did not watch the Super Bowl) and ask about the company holiday party. He did not want to hear how my feet hurt, how the Italian food made Chef Boyardee seem gourmet or how Sis-Sis and I had to tell a group of drunk chicks to find their own corner to hail a cab..we were working this corner. No, he wanted to know who my date was. After that, silence. We did say good night and chatted some Monday. Not a lot, but he seemed cordial and pleasant and I stayed in my lane. I guess he was waiting for me to bring up his total bullshit the night of the holiday party; I was waiting for him to mention the texts in which I told him exactly what I wanted: a relationship with him that included all he promised plus hangouts, movies, museums, bowling and meals out. I wanted to be happy with him while we still had time together. Not trying to replace or compete with MG…I just wanted to be free to love him and at least be cared about in return. But it is obvious he is different and not wanting what I did. I told him he had no idea how to be honest, how to communicate and he simply was not the man he presented himself to be.

But no one said anything about anything…we chatted some Tuesday and I told him maybe after lunch we could talk if he was up to it…not that kind of talk (although we would have to have it eventually). No, I wanted pleasant conversation with a guy I liked and I wanted it with no expectations, demands or bottom lines. And he disappeared…the man has not said a word since….and that is the straw that has broken the camel’s back for real. Seriously, I have tried and tried…given in to his demands, working within his boundaries and limitations with no offer of compromise on his end. I have forgiven, overlooked and given the benefit of the doubt when he rapes and assaults my trust issues on a constant basis now. I do not know if it is MG, the fact I found out about MG (sorry, but if you are going to live a double life or be a player, you gotta be able to support both ends of the tale) or if he is off his meds but NO MORE. The dividends are not worth the investments and whoever the hell he is doing, whatever the hell he is doing…good luck with that. I told him that. And I am so filled with anger, hurt and frustration at both of us, I feel as if I am choking.

Morning Person says she is glad…she knows it is wrong to say but ever since we found out about the lies and betrayal, she knew it would not work out and I would just be settling. Artsy Craftsy says to lean on the Panel but I have all the tools I need…I write a blog. And in reading some of my older blogs, I found all I need to make it through this and make our romance the shortest story ever:

From Playbook, September 5, 2012: “the men I meet online are looking for the ultimate in no strings attached and regardless of the rare butterflies that arise when I see them or kiss them…it is a no go. And if I meet another who I want to be in my bed, spend the night and/or feel the need to suspend financial obligations for…stop me, slap me and take away my internet and laptop. He is completely crazy and wrong for me and I won’t know it until after the damage is done.”

From 400, October 13, 2013: “the happiness I feel with Prince Charming is beyond any I have ever known.”

From The Morning After, September 12, 2012: “When all is lost, when all is gone, why do I still keep hanging on?”; “there were serious talks where we asked each other questions and I did not believe his answers and lied about mine.”;” …every word raised expectations and I was falling.”; “it all depends on what I truly want to do and can I handle the consequences without therapy and medication if it doesn’t work out…again?”

From Discomfort, July 16, 2011: “I swore that this was the end of the line for us and I cried and cried. I took off work for three days, just being while I let my love for him bleed out from my broken heart, wishing things could go back to the way they were…of course, we reconciled and they did; it would be another 3 years before I realized that whatever I felt for that man had left long ago and I simply did not want to deal with the discomfort of finding someone new.”; “I do not want to have to go through the discomfort of getting to know someone new….I am not in the mood to reveal myself to someone who may not understand or get it. I do not want someone who has not interacted with me before; I am too complicated and to try and explain who I am….impossible. I need to find someone who ‘gets’ me pretty much right off the bat or will at least accept that I am pretty much off the charts in a good way. Which is why I recycle relationships…no need to explain, start over or experience any discomfort…except that at some point there was discomfort; if there wasn’t, would we be recycling? So maybe there are levels are discomfort we are willing to put up with and we will suffer at the hands of someone we already know because we know the brand and levels of discomfort they will dispense? We all know the expression: better to deal with the devil you know versus the devil you don’t.”

From Happy Anniversary, July 3, 2011: “….try to focus on what I will gain from this versus what I have lost and wish you could have seen me, known what a good woman I was to you, loved me and picked me instead.”

Dealing with this is not going to be easy but it won’t be as hard as I think it will be. PC is showing me his faults and flaws and while I could deal with them, I am no longer getting any of the good stuff to balance it out. Things that were second nature when we first began like compliments, late night conversations, pet names, telling me “kisses” at bedtime…all of a sudden they are not part of his personality. He insists that I struck down facetime but after the 3 days at the dmv excuse…it seemed the best thing to do. I no longer trust him and with apparently good reason(s)…it is like in the book Needful Things when the people in town got their heart’s desires and spent all their time and energy in them and the perfect things they wanted and needed turned out to be false, phony and the cause of their destruction. There is no happily ever after here…he has no interest in making it so and I have no energy to be in a relationship all by myself. Again. So the soap opera is cancelled, no renewals are in the works and all I can do is trust in God that this is for the best.

I am going to cry myself to sleep now…I need to release this overflow of emotion some kind of way. Tomorrow is a brand new day and I am not carrying this shit into it. Check back soon for a love letter to Chef and more posts on things not lost cause related. As usual, thanks for stopping past and reading and as always….enjoy your day!

As the World Turns

I am going to give myself a pat on the back. My intuition has a 98% success rate…usually when my gut tells me something, it is right and eventually all I need to prove it so comes to light. No idea why I doubt myself or try to dumb it down but I am chalking it up to the romantic optimist in me. In the beginning, when PC were first starting out, I tried so hard not to compare him to the ones who had come before, but I just could not overlook the Him symptoms, the Married Man traits and the smidgen of AFO. After the Ugliness, when Crazy wore him down and we agreed to try again, I tried to have trust again, but he was so weird and different and Doubt had such compelling arguments…I chalked it up to readjustment and totally ignored my intuition. But after two days of digs and incredulity, I had to have a talk with PC to clear the air and find out where we stood and what the deal really was. So, welcome to my soap opera…

Let me start by saying that I was not looking for a soap opera…..I rather liked the unexpected surprise of the Hallmark Channel like start to this whatever it is/was. Morning Person says it has always been a friendship but l am with Artsy Craftsy, Feisty One and Chef…the sexual that was present in the beginning (written and physical), the constant communication, the intimacy, the compliments, the attentiveness, the control and kink…it made it more than the average person’s definition of friendship. I liked the two characters: the lonely girl-next-door office worker who had so much love to give and the tall, man of few (but all the right) words Prince Charming who was persuasive, charming and oh so calm and laid back. For five months, it was heady, intoxicating, drama free and seemed both characters were headed towards falling in love. With each other. But along the way, Prince Charming became a Celibate Priest (CP?), the girl next door became an escaped mental patient off her meds and a Mexican Girlfriend suddenly materialized from 23 years ago.

I have been saying in the last couple of posts how different PC has been since the trip to Utah but Feisty One pointed out the difference came about once I let him know I knew about MG. He has been inconsistent with conversations and the content of said conversations and when he requested I wear a specific outfit to work, he never once gave a compliment or acknowledged that I was (in my own way) making efforts to show him that I heard him and was sincere and serious about rebuilding. That is when I asked him was complimenting/acknowledging me a violation of the celibacy or the girlfriend? As par for our course now, he ignored that statement but he had a lot to say the next day when I mentioned needing a +1 to enjoy some restaurant groupons I had bought for us to use. He says I do not need anyone else….go alone, order a meal for there (vouchers only good for dine in) and order a meal to go. Not…I will go with you. Not…I understand. No, he wants me to go alone and when I questioned him about the statement, he swears he was kidding and being sarcastic, but I know he wasn’t. I am so going with my intuition with this one. And that is when I told him we needed to have a talk and I would call him that evening.

PC was very Chatty Cathy when I called…told me about the fundraiser dinner for his daughter’s school and how full he was; we talked about my work team and a couple of jobs I had submitted my resume for. Then came the ice breaker which was the perfect segue into the reason I called: while taking with PC, I THOUGHT I was texting Artsy Craftsy. My message read: Talking now, scared to death.
He asked me why was I texting him while I was talking to him…and I was so embarrassed. I told him to deletedeletedelete while thanking lucky stars it was Artsy Craftsy I was talking to and not someone else. That is when I told him that I wanted to ask him a series of questions, would appreciate honest answers and there would be no questions about his answers. He agreed. So I said a quick prayer, took a deep breath and dived right in.

Not going through the entire q&a …rather here are the results: he guesses you could call MG his girlfriend. (Forget Prince Charming, the man is King of the Noncommittal Answer) He was not sure he loved her…he did 23 years ago but never told her; he left on family business and returned 2 days after she married someone else. When asked was it serious, he said she is expecting him to propose marriage. He does not know why he did not tell me. He may or may not relocate…he has no job prospects, he is locked in a lease and apparently, the marriage proposal is contingent upon him moving out west. He does like me, he does care and yes, we can have something. When asked about the celibacy, he doesn’t know why he did not tell me but it was a religious action. He is trying to repair his relationship with God. I did not touch that. I asked him where does he see our “friendship” going…he responded with: where do friends go? I told him what stuck in my craw was the fact he could not give facetime and I am 20 miles away but a chick 3,000 miles away could. He said actually, it wasn’t 3,000 miles. I told him to shut up and do not get was over 20 miles. Period.
I told him I had wanted a relationship with him…that is the way we were headed, or so he led me to believe. I told him he was the one saying I am the only one, there was no girlfriend, no dating/seeing/screwing. PC comes back with technically, that was the truth. I was his only sexual partner and really, he was not dating or seeing anyone else…MG was CLEAR across the country.

That is when he said he could give me the relationship I wanted…it would be intimate versus sexual, with Daddy and facetime included. He was not one to hang out but he would do so for me. I was worth it. We can still see where this can go. He said he understood about my going crazy…yeah, I had crazy to spare but he understood and wanted us to get things right. Yeah, that lasted until we hung up the phone. The man was dead silent for two days and the third day, two hours before my company’s Winter Social, he texts to say he misunderstood our conversation and bottom line, we could have friendship only. Text only. If I could not do that, he understood. And told me to have fun at the party. First, I told him how the hell could we even have what he was suggesting when he did not even talk the way he used to? Fuck that…if I cannot see you, I have to be able to talk to you and for real, facetime was a must on my end. Period. Then I told him he does this shit ALL THE TIME…whenever I am about to go out and be social, he pulls some flaky bullshit designed to have me all upset and angry and NOT in the mood to have fun but he was not going to fuck this event up for me. Since I am the only one with some comprehension skills, maybe we need to end this now because it has become ridiculous. Utterly.

And I ended it today…I told him that no, I am not making assumptions. He is making the past our present and obviously, he has run out of excuses to give me so he finally laid his hand on the table. And I am not agreeable to any of the terms…he is not the man he presented himself to be, he is not honest, and to top it off, he is a flake. I need more than what he is offering and to tell me he does not want to hurt me, lead me on or play games after he has done all three? Really? I said perhaps we could stay in touch and update each other periodically but it is best that our efforts, time and attention are best spent towards other people and endeavors because it is evident MG is not the only one CLEAR across the country. No response, but I am okay. Yeah, I am bummed and disappointed but I got the closure I needed. I got explanations and I not only know, I SEE it is not me. Yes, I miss him terribly but I have been missing who I thought he was for a long time. I am done trying to make it work, done trying to force things and work it out to my satisfaction. The longer I hang around trying to do that, the more hurt and angry I will become. Whatever happened in Utah, be it between PC and MG or between he and I, has caused some deep damage that he refuses to see and I cannot repair alone.

So once again, I have ended the soap opera…Crazy will not attempt another resurrection and Hope is tired and defeated. She pretty much knows there will not be a third time around in this camp, given the mess the second time turned out to be. We will take a break, heal and just be a lot more careful and guarded the next time. For a little while, I was happy and is it wrong to say I am happy I was able to share this romance with you, if for no other reason than I have witnesses to the crazy I attract and that the promises are not all in my head? As usual, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…enjoy your day!