He Asked About Me

His friend asked about me. This particular friend and I don’t like each other at all. He wanted to know how I’m doing. But he asked Lil Miss and she wasn’t falling for it. Apparently, she told this guy that MyDude did me dirty and I’m doing better without him. He also told her that MyDude is living with his baby’s mom. Of course he is. I knew that even as he vehemently denied it.

I wonder how she would like to know who he was calling when he had my phone. She doesn’t care, I guess. He’s done her dirty for years and she welcomes him back happily after every time he runs off with someone else (me, for example). He can’t live on his own and she’s his safest bet. They deserve each other.

I’m angry that he was asking about me though. He has no right to any information about me. He has no right to look into my life and get any satisfaction from my pain. I wish many bad things upon him for that. I want my karma to chase him down and set his life on fire. He doesn’t deserve to know about me. He doesn’t deserve to be happy at all.

The utter gall of him sending someone to ask after me. What a piece of work. What an asshole. I should tell her. But I won’t. Fuck him.

I wish she hadn’t told me about that conversation. I wish I didn’t know about his curiosity. He rode away to be with someone so toxic that she stays drunk and has a restraining order against him. I hope they’re both miserable.

On a lighter note, I’m going back on the dating app. I’m lonely and those guys are thirsty. Might as well have some fun as a singleton.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

Me of the No-Booty Clan

I’ve lost a lot of weight since all of these life changes began. And with that I’ve lost inches. In fact, when I met MyDude in December 2016 I was in a size 11. I’m now in a size 3. Of course, the primary cause of this crazy shrinkage is stress. But also because I’ve been weening myself off of my medications1. So, I’m shrinking and that’s supposed to be a good thing.

Well, at one point not long before we finally broke up for good, MyDude decided to joke that I’m “No-booty Jen”. I wasn’t amused at the time, but decided to see if I could fix that. I did squats every day until the day he drove off. Then I stopped. Fuck it. What was the point? I had bigger worries on my mind than the fact that my ass wasn’t up to par. Blech.

Then I met this other guy recently. He’s the same one I wasn’t feeling. But I decided to answer his call one more time. Just to see if I was being an asshole because of the walls that I’d thrown up after MyDude’s departure. I mean, it’s possible, right? Plus I was bored and missing assface. I do stupid shit when I’m bored and missing him. Maybe a rebound would be ok. Just to take the edge off.

So, I go out with this guy one more time. We’re having a good convo and some laughter. I’m reserved because I’m looking for something to prove myself wrong (or right). I was observing him and trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Ultimately, I gave in and did what I wanted to do. Should I have? Doesn’t matter. I do what I want and I wanted to do it then. We’d had a conversation about not being friends with benefits. He didn’t want that, he said. I don’t want that, I said. Good. It was agreed. Except maybe I wasn’t as serious as I should’ve been. I have no idea what I want right now and have no idea if I’ll ever be able to open up enough to let someone close again. I’m basically going with the flow. But it gets funny.

This one isn’t going to win any beauty awards. He’s a lot shorter than MyDude2 and a lot less strong. I noticed that right away. I’ve got my preferences, people. And he’s a lot plumper in the mid-region. I don’t really care about that, but this guy won’t be in a magazine at any point in time. He’s maybe just above average. I was initially interested in him because of his musical tastes and his sense of humor. That other shit really won’t make much of a difference if I decide to take another lover at any time. So, anyway…

This guy slaps my backside and remarks “Man, you have no butt.” It was a blaring alarm in my head. Body shaming right then? It didn’t make a lot of sense to me as he seemed to like my body well enough 10 minutes prior. I felt myself cut him off right then. Done, dude. I refrained from mentioning his paunch or his hairline or how he doesn’t stack up to a certain someone I might still miss. No reason to do a tit for tat. I already knew what I was going to do. No more chances. He was lucky that I even gave in to my base urges with him. Holy shitballs, was he lucky. Now, I already know that I don’t possess that juicy booty that is all the rage. I’ve accepted that. I figured men who were attracted to me would see that right away and decide if my intelligence, wit and pretty face were worth the effort. I wasn’t expecting all of that nonsense after the fact. Time to go home. I give him the look and out the door I go.

So, that’s it for him for sure. He knew it, too. It must’ve been the look on my face. The gods know I can’t hide my emotions for anything. And, apparently, I have a very unique look when I’m agitated. He’d have seen that whether the words came out of my mouth or not. He hasn’t tried to contact me at all since then. I was wondering if he was trying to ghost on me for a split second3 and then decided I was probably ghosting too. I made no effort to text him either. I’m getting used to this shit at this point.

I’m 44 years old now. I’ve had 3 children and just lost a shit ton of weight. I don’t have a 24 year-old’s body. I can’t afford to pay for the work required to get that body back. And, quite frankly, I’m damned fine just the way I am. No booty? Pfft. Everything works like it should and I’m amazing company. Ok, I used to be amazing company. I may not be so much anymore. MyDude shattered me and I’m pretty sure I’ll be fucked up for a while. Either way, I found a reason to back off without guilt and took it.

I told my counselor I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I have no idea how to date properly and I sure as shit don’t know how to find a good man. I started out with good intentions. My vegan back in November was a good guy and he never saw my crazy side. But he wasn’t into it and I was ultimately fine with that. Then I met MyDude and all the progress I’ve made while married to TheMan went straight the fuck out the window. “Bye! Begone, sanity, I have no use for you!” I let MyDude chase me then I took up the chasing. And we both threw grenades on anything good that might have happened. I told my counselor I don’t want to be that open anymore – ever. I never want to have that connection with anyone ever again. I felt that man in my soul and still had no idea how to deal with any of those emotions. “Be trusting. Be open. Be honest.” None of that shit worked. None of it ever does. So what the fuck is the point?

I think I traumatized him. He started saying something about looking inside myself and I stopped him. “You can tell me to talk myself out of this all you want. But the reality is, sir, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing and talking to myself has only hurt me. How the fuck do I turn off my brain?”((I’m a serious over-thinker. I will think myself into heartbreak lickety split.)) I will honestly say that I’ve been lonely for a lot of years and I’m sick of it. And after MyDude… I’m sick of risking anything personal for a few minutes of gratitude here and there. Sex is easy. Sex is animalistic and I can completely remove my emotions from it. What I can’t do is figure out how to fix whatever it is I’m doing wrong. What did he tell me then?

“Sit with your feelings for a week. Let them all come to the surface. Then when the time has passed just move on.”

I’m going to try it. But I can pretty much guarantee he was pulling shit out of his ass at that point. The guy is awesome and I really feel comfortable with him. I just don’t think he can quite get a grip on me. I am grateful for him, though. I’m back to writing and that’s a big step. I let it alone for so long. It’s a great relief valve. I’m just still doing shit wrong. “Sure, guy who obviously just wants sex, let’s play that game and pretend it’s not a game at all. Dance, monkey, dance! How’s that feel?” My poor counselor…

What’s that got to do with the original topic? Nothing at all. Except the body shaming thing really pissed me off. I’ve come to the decision that it’s one chance and no more. Done with that. Peace out, buttercup, moving on. This is going to be a long summer.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. I halved my dosage of Lyrica and that alone causes weight loss, major mood swings, sleeplessness and outbursts of uncontrollable rage. []
  2. A lot of men are. MyDude is 6’4″ and 270lbs. []
  3. Which would be hilarious considering he literally lives 2 blocks from me. []

“I Don’t Get Jealous”

Well, just when I decided whatshisface was starting to grow on me he fucked up. Well, he and his friends fucked up. But he was in the middle of it all and so too bad so sad. I’m not going to to into details about what happened1, but it was really bad. Fuck him. Fuck his friends. Fuck this entire town. That’s all I have to say about that. To them I let my middle finger fly.

I did want to note something funny that this guy said to me. Well, it’s something I hear from every man – including MyDude -and it’s something that is never true2.

“I don’t get jealous. Never. I don’t see the point in it. If a guy can steal the chick I’m with then he can have her.”

Every time I hear this my eye twitches. I know that they believe what they just told me. And maybe they normally don’t get jealous. But it’s usually said to see my reaction and to make sure I won’t flip out if they fuck someone else. And it’s usually proven wrong pretty quickly. MyDude did that shit and it was a disaster. He hated Sam with a passion. The guy before MyDude is literally cyber-stalking me as we speak. The conniving motherfucker just got busted yesterday. He also said he doesn’t get jealous. I also proved him wrong.

Jealousy is a funny emotion in men. Well, what I’ve seen anyway. I like possessive. I like when my menfolk take charge of me while I’m out. I loved when MyDude claimed me in public. I love that. I don’t like the ugly part of it. I don’t like when they pretend that it’s perfectly fine that I’m with another man. I don’t like the explosiveness when they finally realize their little ploy backfired on them. To me it’s a challenge. And a bit insulting. Why would you be ok if I ran off with someone else? Why would it be ok for another man to ease himself into your slot in my life? So I test that. And it’s always bad because I’m a dumbass that is always right. Then, of course, too much damage has been done and POOF! All done.

I’ve only been half-assed talking this new guy. We’ve been out for drinks and fucktardery a couple of times. We kissed. Whatever. Means shit to me. But this guy who doesn’t get jealous has already shown me that he’s not going to do well with me. I told him last night that I couldn’t see him tonight because I have plans. That’s true. Lil’lady’s birthday was yesterday so we’re having a dinner at Millie’s. Afterwards I’m going to my best friend’s house to hang with her. I didn’t tell him all that. I just said I have plans so I can’t see him today at all.

“I have plans tomorrow. IDK. We’ll see what mood I’m in, I suppose. I’m leaning toward no right now.”

His reply?

“No tequila on your date tomorrow” (sent at 2:25am)

Huh. I didn’t mention a date. All I said was I had plans. At this point I’m supposed to explain what my plans are and that I promise I’m not talking to anyone else. Except fuck that. He doesn’t get jealous right? And he’s not may man. Honestly, I barely like the guy. My reply.

“Yeah. That’s hilarious.” And that was that. No more conversation. But I was already pissed at him for something that happened earlier. Furious even. I wanted to punch him straight in his dick. I told him I was angry. I didn’t send him any explanations as to what the exact issue was because he doesn’t matter ultimately. He knew I was pissed about that situation – just not why. At any rate, he hasn’t replied at all. I had told him earlier that I was done with night life in this town and from now on I would party at my house. I very pointedly told him that there was no point in trying to get me to go out. I didn’t flat out tell him to fuck off. This is a situation I’d rather just fade away from.

Earlier he’d asked me about MyDude. I forget what story I was trying to tell, but he interrupted me and said “Is that the guy you’re still in love with?” He wasn’t hearing the story. He wanted to know about MyDude. Well, I don’t want to talk about that with him. Not then. Not now. Maybe not ever. I told him that straight out: “I don’t want to discuss him.” He asked a couple more times. I refused to answer and continued my story. But he didn’t hear me. He wanted to know about his competition. He doesn’t compare, unfortunately, and he’d have known that if I’d have talked about MyDude at all. I wasn’t trying to hurt his feelings, so I refused to discuss it at all. He can read about it here like the other 20 people who come here.

Then after all that drama and bullshit I get a text from some dude who I’ve been texting with every so often. Nothing exciting, mind you. I want to see if he’s interested in getting to know me as a person instead of what’s in my pants. We were doing ok. Then he texts me “hi” and we have a short chat. Then he blows up my phone. This motherfucker sent me multiple dick pics. I’m pretty sure he was masturbating and sending me pictures of it. I became even more furious. The conversation was so mundane “Hi. Wyd?” “Hi back. At the movies with my daughter” “Oh yeah, what are you seeing?” “Wonder Woman” Bam bam bam bam. Dick pics. I know I didn’t even hint that I wanted to see that shit, so I felt violated. Fuck that. Block, block, delete. Bye, sir.

It’s amazing how brazen men become when they find out a woman is single. Guys, we don’t need to see your penis. It’s ugly and probably looks like the other 100 pics we received. Keep it in your pants. Where’s the mystery? Stop being sluts. Blah blah blah. The next one I get is going up in a photo gallery on this blog and I will use your name and photo to identify you. Of course, the ones I’m getting are from Facebook friends and they don’t get to see this blog. But that doesn’t matter to me. I’ll still do it.

So, I want to talk some more about these guys and their whole “I don’t get jealous” nonsense. I’m not concerned about monogamy because I honestly believe humans aren’t meant to be monogamous. I have rules though. I don’t want to know the other woman, I don’t want to know about their adventures and when he’s with me then that’s my time. No phone calls or texts from other women while he’s with me. And, finally, he has to keep control of his situation. I never, ever want to get into a cat fight over a man. I never want to speak with his other women. I don’t want to know their names and they should never know mine. MyDude broke all of those rules, of course. Anyway, these guys say this stuff and so I take them at their word. Then all hell breaks loose.

Guy before MyDude lost his shit because he saw pics of me and him. Then MyDude couldn’t handle me spending time with Sam3. It drove him all the way around the bend. This guy is already questioning me in ways I’m not comfortable with. I literally got divorced that day and have only been broken up with MyDude for a month and some change. Too soon for him to be peeing on the tree4. Maybe I would’ve let him claim me later on if he hadn’t shown himself to be a fucking creep. And I know he will eventually become the jealous boyfriend if I let him. And I’m not letting him.

I think I subconsciously challenge these guys when they tell me that stupid shit. Oh, you don’t get jealous, huh? Let’s test that theory, shall we? There was one dude back in the 90s, before TheMan, who actually didn’t get jealous at all. He was super sexy and very confident – and very much into me. He said he expected guys to hit on me and that it flattered him. And he knew that he was my first pick. At the time, that was true. We had an very unconventional relationship and it worked well for about a year or so. Then he faded away and I didn’t go looking for him. But he would see me in the club flirting and dancing and just watch me. He wouldn’t say anything or make any effort to pee on the tree. He just watched then collected me at the end of the night if I was still available. Sometimes I would sneak off with someone else and he was fine with that. There was no fighting, no suspicion, no disrespect. Of course, we didn’t get close enough emotionally to mean that much to each other. But he never, ever got jealous. I tried a couple of times and he saw right through me. Why waste the time, he says to me. He’s right. But I can’t help it. It’s like a dare. Watch what I can do. How’s that feel? Dumbass = Me.

Men don’t like when women get jealous so they test us to see if we’re like that. I’m not. I don’t snoop or chase or show up somewhere hoping to bust someone. I did track MyDude once but that’s when he and his baby’s mom made me crazy for a minute. I stopped after that. I didn’t even track TheMan or look at his phone or check his bank account5. I’m not competing with another woman for my man. He either wants me or not and she has very little to do with that. The only time I flip about another woman is when she is actively disrespecting me – as MyDude’s ex did to me. Then that’s a fight for a whole other reason. I don’t fight over a man. And I never expect a man to be faithful. It’s why I have rules and I do, honestly, live by them. I will, though, find myself a secondary if I see my main dude is fucking around. Better believe that.

I’m looking for a good place to end this post so this is it. It doesn’t matter if this guy gets jealous or not at this point. He’s been dismissed. But someone else will pop up and tell me that. And then I will have to decide if I remain true to myself and do what I always do OR pretend I’m a regular woman and put my foot down. Maybe I’ll try the latter this time. Bwahaha. Not bloody likely.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. Shockingly, I don’t actually share everything in my life. []
  2. At least when guys are with me. []
  3. He also almost ripped some guy’s arm off because he was trying to kiss me in the bar. Another time he let some young dude buy me shot after shot then the kid kissed me and MyDude flipped out. []
  4. This is something we say about men marking their territory. MyDude did this all the time without even realizing it. He was all hands on Jinx whenever we were out in public – Lowe’s, Walmart, the parts store. If some other man looked at me then MyDude was either kissing me or hugging me close. Never failed. []
  5. I should have, but I didn’t. []

I made a decision

Yesterday I legally became single again. And I have taken back my name. No more Mrs. TheMan. Good riddance.

I did have a little bit of a mourning period. I went out into my grove and cursed my gods. I asked them to just leave me alone. I’m sick of their interference. I cried and swore and sat at the base of the biggest tree and let it all flow out of me.1

It wasn’t just about my marriage. That was over years ago. Gods know I tried to heal it, but he’s a selfish motherfucker so we failed. And not just MyDude either. He’s a symptom – a garbage barge passing through my life.

The dead:
My mother
My son
My great-grandmother2
My grandfather

The living:
My paternal family
Anyone I ever fell in love with
Countless “friends”3

The inanimate:
My home
My security
My dreams

I keep losing. And I’m sick of it. I’m sick of having strength and being crazy and trying to keep something together. I’m sick of being another in a long line of cursed women. I’m sick of being me. And I want to be an atheist right now. I want to let go of my spirituity so then these questions and frustrations won’t happen. “Shit happens” instead of “shit happens for a reason”. What’s  the point?

So, I had that time to do that thing. Then I walked downtown to meet that guy again. He was the only one to invite me for drinks and, honestly, he’s starting to grow on me. We started drinking at 7 and I was flashing my boobs by 11:30.  I stole someone’s cigarettes and kisses. The guy I was with apparently explained very gently why I needed to go the fuck home. And he took me. I woke up; face down on top of my purse and phone; and fully clothed. He texted me early this morning to check on me. He was very sweet about everything. I wasn’t the least bit sorry. Yeah…anyway…

Then my life-long best friend tells me her MS has snowballed and, no, she won’t take that medication now. She’s terrified. But I’m angry4. She won’t even use a cane oit in public. Now she will need a wheelchair. Which means she will not leave her house. She is so stubborn. I’ve been down this road before, so I know no amount of pleading will help. She is more like my mother than I am. I just want to smack her. But…it put some things into clear focus.

So, today I deleted every bit of MyDude from my phone – pictures, texts, email. He is not a real problem. I’m hurting because I miss someone I made up in my head. By the way, he’s a living, breathing human being, but I saw him as someone better than he was. I miss a wistful idea. He was nothing more than a fuckboy. And I elevated him to lover status. I hurt myself. And overall he was barely a blip in my life as it was imploding. There have been so many more important things to worry about, but I stupidly focused on that single thing. He was never worth that. I knew it then. I made him into something he can never be. I see it now. So…

I did email him yesterday when I was “out of sorts”. I know why I did it. I was honest. Just once more, Jennifer. I just told him that, since he was the one I confides in for 4 months, he’d be curious. He congratulated me and told me it all works out. “Yeah, eventually I hope.” I wasn’t thinking about him when I wrote. I was thinking about my house. And maybe the guy I was with at the time. Then this morning I told him my friend is too sick and that I won’t contact him again. That was that. After that I deleted everything.  Without the pictures I have a hard time remembering his face5. Without the emails and texts I will forget his voice. That’s that. He’ll become another story that begins “Hey, you remember that big guy I dated for a minute? What’s his name?”

Without his presence in my head I’ll have to face all of this other HUGE life changers. I’ll have to face myself and the parts.if the world that matter. That’s going to be rough. But I think I’m almost over this hump and good things will finally happen again. Time to start counting my silver linings again.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. I think this is the first time I’ve ever admitted it’s my grove. []
  2. My heart and strength. []
  3. I never learned to maintain relationships because a borderline personality raised me. []
  4. My mother committed suicide by doctor. []
  5. I still think about those hand though. []

The Chameleon

The Chameleon Effect is a way we interact with other people. We begin to mimic those around us. I was talking to my counselor about this the other day. I don’t know how much I do it as I tend to make people uncomfortable1. I was discussing how much MyDude engages in mimicry and he doesn’t even realize it.

He adopted a lot of my language while we were together. Even his response to my apology was something I say: “That’s fine no worries”. He began to regularly say “fucktard”, which I found amusing, and called me by the pet names I gave to him. He seemed to enjoy my music, but had a country CD in his car. He was very fluid depending on the situation he was in. I found that fascinating about him. But it may well have been the way he snagged me and was so good at manipulating me. 

I don’t believe the stories of his youth were mimicry, even though he comes from a similar background to mine. I had never discussed my childhood with him before he told me things about his past. When we first got together he was very open about that stuff. That made me trust him enough to tell him things I’d never even told TheMan. I told him some of the dark stuff. Things I won’t put here. He was very open about his past. 

My counselor suggested that he became so adaptive for survival purposes. I didn’t tell him what MyDude told me, but he could guess things based on how MyDude treated me. He said MyDude would never be reliable or truly honest or a good partner for someone like me. MyDude hasn’t got the capacity to love someone like me. That was such an odd thing to hear from a counselor. But it makes sense. From what I know MyDude has always been left to his own devices, even as a little boy. He’s never had that deep connection that people get when they’re loved by family. The boy wasn’t shown the kind of love he’d need when he was a man. That’s so sad to me. I want to build a time machine and go back to hug that little boy. And that’s my problem. I want to fix something that he doesn’t even want to fix.

He acts the way people he’s with want him to act. He never feels safe enough to let his real self out. And when someone loves him enough to pull that out him he takes off. He never wants anyone to see that part of him. My ego was hurt because he showed me part of himself but pulled it back and ran away. Not even I could draw hom out safely. And, no, I’m not ignoring the fact that I made it unsafe for him ultimately.  He could never be safe with me. But I’m still upset he never truly let himself go with me.

I saw part of him. Just a bit there at the end. I saw him crack himself open just enough. That last week was something else – just enough to give me hope. And then… well, we know how all of that went. I let myself just be when I wss with him. There was a small period of time when I felt safe enough to just let myself out – finally. Heh. What a mess that became.

So, I thought that was interesting. It’s too bad neither of us could be safe. It’s a damned shame that we were so broken because…

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. My friend told me that I’m like coffee in that I’m an acquired taste. []

So That was a Bust

This new guy invited me to his apartment last night and it did not go well. I should’ve walked out the second I walked in. But, nope, I didn’t trust my gut. I really have to stop ignoring that.

His entire downstairs was dark because, he said, he didn’t have a tv downstairs. What? I really should’ve left then, but I went to his room to watch a movie and talk.

I was very clear with him from the get: no sex. None. Not even heavy petting. We aren’t progressing anywhere,  but I was curious. What would we talk about? How curious was he about me?

Turns out he’s not the slightest bit interested in me or the rules I set forth. He was too casual about everything. Too uninspired. He didn’t so much as put on a show. It wasn’t long before he was trying to get my pants off. At the second “no”, which he was arguing about, I decided to go. He was being extremely aggressive and heavy handed. I was starting to think something bad was going to happen. So I took off with my dignity bruised and intact. And I’m annoyed today.

I’m annoyed that this dude who is not even in my league tried to help himself to my body. I don’t give a flying monkey’s ass if I gave him 1000 kisses, I get to decide when I give up the booty. I’m annoyed that I have to start navigating this shit again. And I’m annoyed I gave this guy even 5 seconds of my time. And I’m annoyed I felt the need to make “friends” even when I’m really not ready to do so.

This guy is a creep. There’s no doubt about that. He’ll get no more of my time. But another creep will come down the pipe and I’ll be fighting the same sort of battles I fought when I was 25. I’m too old to be fending off aggressive hands like that. And I’m too old to try to give someone an honest shot when they really just don’t do it for me. At least not sober. Heh. What an ass.

Back to being alone for a while. I don’t have the energy for those kinds of fights. I wanted to kmow if this guy was interested in getting to know me as a person and now I know he’s not. Such is my life until I die. Fuck off, cruel world,  fuck all the way off.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

Left Behind

I keep finding things he left behind. Stupid shit: a foot peddle, a little kit with nothing in it but tiny square sliding panels, bearings he bought bit never used, a tire gauge… Odds and ends that he probably doesn’t need. There’s some little thing that he’d obviously welded when he was bored1 and some safety glasses. I want to put it all in a box and set it out. Instead I’m just leaving it all where I found it.  He won’t be back to collect it. It’s nothing to him.

I guess at some point I’ll either reuse or dispose of all of it. But I’m grieving in a really weird way. Usually I don’t keep trophies or memorabilia from relationships that don’t work out. When I broke it off with my first real love I didn’t so much as keep a picture. He meant nothing anymore and neither did his crap. Of course, after that I was single for 6 years, so there’s that. MyDude never meant nearly as much to me as this guy did. And yet I’m holding onto physical nonsense that was his. I don’t know why. It was only 5 months and we were terrible together. I should be glad I’m free again and live accordingly.

I went out with this other guy again. We watched the Cavs trounce the Warriors then we made out in my driveway again.  I’m not that into this guy, but it’s better than sitting with my own thoughts. He’s one of a few guys on my facebook that’s been vying for my attention. Except he didn’t make it obvious and I appreciated that. So there we were.

He wanted to see me last night, but I wasn’t having it. He texts me all day and I kind of like that. But when MyDude was working his magic at first he was texting me all the time. I’m beautiful, I’m smart, I turn him on, he can’t wait to see me. It’s all the same. I’m not impressed anymore. I wanted to watch tv and sleep. So that’s what I did. And he was ok with that. At least that’s how he seems. I don’t trust my intuition anymore.

I saw a meme that said don’t settle for the guy who gives you butterflies – go for the guy who makes you feel safe just by holding your hand. It made me so damned angry. That’s how I felt with MyDude at first. Like I’d met someone who would protect me. I never got butterflies with him. I never got breathless thinking about him or out-of-my-head remembering the taste of him. I just felt like I belonged with him. I can’t trust anyone – it’s not possible for me – but I wanted to. And, really, if he’d have told me he wanted me to himself? I’d have done that. Probably. I did it for TheMan, right? I can do that.

Doesn’t matter. Moving on.  I don’t have a good nickname for the love of my life. He was years before TheMan and totally different from him. That’s one thing that made me like TheMan. But MyDude is very much like that other guy. His demeanor, his size, his inner beauty. That was something I’d mentioned to my friends. I have always been looking for my Ex but without the temper. MyDude is not violent – something I kmow for a fact because if he was he’d have thrown me across a room a couple of times. Anyway, I was deeply in love with Bob. And he was in love with me. We were amazing and horrible and completely dysfunctional. But I loved Bob to my core. And no one has ever been able to get that close to me since. People to this day ask me about Bob because they can’t imagine that we don’t talk2. His girlfriend with whom he has a child? Hates me because he talked about us. We were crazy in love. I’ve been looking for just part of that relationship for 20 years. Since we broke up I’ve loved 2 other people – TheMan and MyDude. And I only loved TheMan superficially. A part of Bob became my ideal partner. I thought MyDude filled that ideal.

Maybe that’s why I’m having such a hard time with this breakup. I am hungry for a certain part of my relationship with Bob. I imagined MyDude fit a role and when it didn’t work that way? Boom! That doesn’t matter either in the long run. I’m just trying to figure myself out.

So, why am I airing this all out on my very public blog and not in a personal journal? I saw another blog of an addict.  He said writing publicly about what happened and his process was therapeutic to him. Like he was sharing himself with long-time friends. And maybe someone somewhere could relate. I’ve been blogging for a long time. This process has helped me immensely when I’ve done it in the past. It’s part of who I am. It’s part if my totally fucked up need to share myself with someone interested in knowing me. People in my real life have no idea who I am. I don’t show them more than 2 layers deep. I can go deeper with this blog. Writing this way helps calm the chaos in my head. Like I’m talking to someone. Reading this is voluntary so if you are reading that means something here is interesting to you. And that matters to me. Don’t worry. I don’t air all of the dirty laundry. Or even the clean laundry. Heh.

Hopefully soon the topic here will change to my adventures in a new city. I’m so anxious to begin again. New memories and new stories.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. Or maybe he’d had a purpose for it. []
  2. we do sometimes, but he became enraged when he saw pictures of MyDude and me on facebook. So I was forced to block him. 20 years later. []

I’m Ready, but My Brain is Not

image

He told me once that he liked that I express myself through music. We were fighting at the time and I’d sent him some songs to express my feelings about it.  After that he sent me songs too. The songs he sent me were things like “Snuff” from Slipknot. Mostly warnings to me – don’t love me because I don’t love you.

Sometimes he’d tell me to listen to a particular love song. I could never tell, though, if it was for me or if he was thinking of someone else. The music both soothed and tormented me. I shared with him was my attempt to tell him what was going on in  my head.  I texted and spoke, too, but he really seemed receptive to the music. I don’t believe he thought of me when he listened to it, but I was pretty delusional throughout our relationship.

Listening to any of it now reminds me of him. That pisses me off to no end. Get out of my head already. Fuck, every part of my life was inflected. And it still hurts. I’m ready for my brain to stop seeing him everywhere. He doesn’t think of me at all – this was all easy for him. It’s time to let it go.

I’ve met a lot of guys through Facebook recently. They’re like vultures vying over the rotting corpse that was the lovable me. They friend request me and I’ve started to accept a requests1 and most of them are from men looking to get laid. They’ll message me some fucktarded ice breaker and I’ll block them from messenger. But sometimes they seem interesting and we chat.

I met up with one guy for a couple of beers, but it wasn’t a date. There was a whole group of people there and I was the new addition. It was fun that night. So I agreed to meet up again 2 nights ago. There were fewer people there, but I still had fun. He’s an interesting person and his friends are funny. I bought my own beer and refused the drink he bought for me. I didn’t want a date vibe. When it was time to go I let him drive me home2. When we got to my driveway I let him kiss me.

And he lit me up. He was very, very good at it. I stopped it when his hand went i to my bra. No, none of that. Not yet. I was done for the night. It was too much. I felt like I was cheating.

I told him goodnight and he was a complete gentleman about it. Later he texted and asked if he could come back. He told me what he wanted to do to me and I was so tempted. Instead I put my phone away and went to sleep. In the morning I replied that I’d fallen asleep but wouldn’t have let him come.over anyway. He said he liked that.

I tried to imagine what it would be like to finally expunge MyDude from my brain. I could just replace him with this other guy. Then I decided that was a bad plan. How is that fair to this guy? He’s probably a decent person and I was thinking about how he could be used to get another man out of my head. It’s a bad idea thought up by a fucked up brain. So when he asked to hang out last night I refused. I’m no good for any of that right now. I’m not in a place to engage in any of that.

Not to mention I fully intend to move away the second my house sells. I have no intention of staying in this town for anyone. And this guy is a lifer. He won’t move. So what would be the point?

I’m listening to music right now and my head is starting to hurt again. The easiest way to get over one man is to get under another, right? How’s that work when I don’t want to do any of that right now? Fuck my brain and fuck MyDude. Fuck all of this. I’m ready to be done. So wby can’t I be?

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. I’ve made my Facebook public, because why the fuck not? Let the haters see. Let him see. []
  2. I walked to the bar. []

My Daughters Hate Him

My divorce will be final next week – the day before Lil’lady’s birthday. I told her that and she said “Huh. That’s kind of sad.” And that was that. She’s dealing pretty well with this situation now, though it was a struggle at first. It was a struggle for both of us. And the gods know I didn’t make anything easier by bringing MyDude into our life. He and I really made a mess of everything.

Lil’lady loved him at first. She was excited for me and was always happy to see him. Her little friends1 and she nicknamed him “Tree” because he’s so large. At first, he loved her and her friends too. He liked that they were always so excited when he came around. And Lil’lady wasn’t a bit upset when he moved in. Of course, I just said it was temporary2 and left it at that.

I asked her once “Do you like MyDude?” I was trying to have a heart-to-heart with her, but that’s so difficult. My child has never had the stomach for anything sentimental. She’s very much like her grandmother in that respect. She was in no mood for a conversation with me about him. She wasn’t interested in our relationship, except that he made me happy.

“I do like him. He’s very affectionate to you. I like that.”

That was all she said. And, at the time, he was very affectionate. He’d snatch me up in the kitchen and kiss me in front of everyone. Or he’d hug me from behind. Or we’d just sit and look into each other’s eyes. At first he was amazing. Lil’lady wasn’t used to seeing adults show each other love. TheMan and I hadn’t even kissed in 7 years. And we never held hands or hugged spontaneously. We weren’t the least bit affectionate at any point that she can possibly remember. So, this was new to her. Grown ups happy with each other? It was new and strange and gave her hope.

But then he ran off with his baby’s mom. And then he gave her the phone to call me. I was with Lil Miss and Sam when she called me. We were driving to Lil Miss’s house for St. Patrick’s Day. Sam was our DD. Anyway, Horseface called me. She was so sloshed she could barely string a sentence together. I tried to remain calm, but I was livid. I wanted to kill her and him. He refused to get on the phone and talk to me. Then she sent me a picture of them sitting together – and put on his facebook that they were back together and happy. All of our mutual friends saw it. Lil’lady saw it.

I didn’t cry. I decided it was over then and I wanted my shit. We were going to drive to Horseface’s house, but I decided against it. Fuck it. Let her have him, right? Lil Miss cried all the way home. She was upset and amazed that I wasn’t crying. I was, honestly, in shock. I didn’t see any of that coming and I just couldn’t believe it. I had no tears. I had no rage. I was just numb.

The night before this all happened MyDude took me out for a night on the town. We went to a new brewhouse and had a pitcher of beer. Then we went down the street to a sports bar and met some folks with whom we had more drinks. After that we drove home for a little bit. We had some wild sex and broke the lamp. Then we left again and went to a local bar and, finally, ended up at a strip club. We went home and had more sex then fell asleep. He spent a lot of money that night and we had a fabulous time.

So when she called to tell me they were back together…I was just numb. It was a shock to my system. I was beyond that, I think. I was devastated. But I didn’t cry that time. Not in front of Lil Miss. Not that time.

After he came back Lil’lady didn’t like him. She refused to speak to him and the girls avoided him. She wanted nothing to do with him and was angry that I’d forgiven him. Right now at this very minute I hate myself because I forgave him the first time. I was enamored with him and it made me sad that my daughter hated him now. I understood though. I wish now that I’d have told him to fuck off right then. Forever gone. Buh-bye. But I didn’t. When he sat on my bedroom floor and started sobbing I just couldn’t say no to him. That was my mistake. The motherfucker knew how to play me. He was a goddamned master. He was upset for a while that the girls felt differently to him.

“I didn’t do anything to her,” he said to me one night. I just stared at him.
“What’d you do to her mother?” I asked. And the penny dropped. “You hurt me, MyDude, and that hurt my girls. She doesn’t trust you. You should work to change that.” He nodded at me as if he completely understood. But he had no intention of working on a relationship with her. That was done in his eyes. He didn’t even bother to engage her after that.

The last time Lil’lady saw him he’d popped in out of the blue to collect the stuff he’d left at my house. I was at work and he thought the house would be empty. But there was no school that day and Lil Miss was there with her youngest. So there was a houseful of people and he was forced to wait outside. Apparently the girls were busily making fun of him and laughing at him. Lil’lady told him that all of his stuff was in the fire pit. It wasn’t. As this was going on he was texting me like crazy – telling me he didn’t care if the girls were laughing at him and his car was nicer than the Cruz3 and what was taking me so long. By the time I got home he was gone with most of his stuff.

The girls wanted to burn what was left. And I considered it. But I saved it for him. A couple of weeks later he came to get it – once again while I was at work so he wouldn’t have to see me. He’s a coward in that way. He knows the damage that he did but refuses to look at it. He runs away. At least with me I faced him when I hurt him. And I would’ve stopped seeing everyone if he’d have asked. But he’s a coward. So it was easier for him to leave me.

Lil’lady wants me to start dating again. There’s a guy on my facebook who I’m kind of interested in. He’s a cool guy and he’s kind of rough. We went out with a group of people a couple of weeks ago and it was fun. But nothing happened between us. It’s mostly just messaging at this point. I don’t want to touch him or kiss him. But I’d love to sit and talk with him. Just get to know him without any of the physical stuff. Unfortunately, I have a look about me that men have decided means they can approach me as if I’m some kind of sex worker. It’s weird and I don’t like it. But when he messages me he just talks about regular shit and always asks me to come for a drink. I haven’t yet. I think tonight I might. Lil’lady has checked him out and has decided he’s suitable enough. As long as he’s not like MyDude. What happened between me and MyDude made her look at relationships a different way. I’m not sure that’s a good thing. I want something healthy so she can see that. Maybe some day I will find that. I’m not looking right now, though. Just testing the waters.

I told Lil Miss that it’s impossible for me to be a role model when it comes to relationships. I have never seen a healthy relationship in my life and I have never had one. I thought I was getting into something healthy with TheMan, but he broke me in a whole new way4. I was upset because how will my girls know what’s good or not? Lil Miss has already had a bunch of very unhealthy relationships. We just do not know how to do it. It’s incredible.

So, next week starts my new life. A new chance to finally get something right. A new slate. I’ve been having a very hard time cleaning up the mess MyDude left in my life and just yesterday found out another way he screwed me. We’ve been broken up for more than a month and I’m still dealing with his bullshit. I feel like I’m going through 2 divorces simultaneously. I’ll be glad when it’s over next week. I am so anxious to put all off this behind me and start my new life. Fuck both of them. I hope they both get gonorrhea of the eyeball.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. Girls that come over all the time. []
  2. It was. []
  3. The car I took back from him. A story for another time, I think. []
  4. I’ll talk more about that eventually. []

This Guy, Man

I’m starting this post while waiting ithe lobby at the courthouse. It’s our final pretrial hearing. TheMan doesn’t want to pay spousal support and I am not having it.

Not long after I filed for divorce my attorney asked me for bank statements. So I printed out the last 8 year’s worth1. As I was looking at them I realized something. That motherfucker had siphoned 10s of thousands of dollars over th e course of the marriage. And he was slick about it.

We had 2 bank accounts and every other day he’d take $20-30 out of mine and $40-60 out of his. He said it was for gas or something but he was using the debit cards for that. I was in tears by the time I was done highlighting. Tears of rage and hatred. He’d told me we were too broke for just about everything. I went without a lot of things because I thought we couldn’t afford stuff for me. And he was hiding money.

So, I refuse to back down on spousal support. Fuck it. He can pay up for a couple of years and help me get back on my feet. I’m about to lose my home, my health insurance and my car. He can get fucked by a flaming cactus.

Later:
He didn’t even bother to show today. Guess he had more pressing shit to do than appear at court. Whatever. We go for our final hearing June 15. The judge will decide if I get anything. I’m pretty sure I’m fucked2but I’m going to give it my best shot.

Also, I sent an apology letter to MyDude. I felt like after my period of self-reflection it was the best thing to do. Honestly, it was mostly something I needed to do for me. I’ll apologize one more time to someone else and that period of my life will be over. I know a lot more about myself now at any rate. I feel relieved in a way. Like a puzzle has been solved. And, no, I don’t want to reestablish any kind of communication with him. There is no need to reopen that door. Let the past stay behind me etc, etc.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. TheMan and I attempted to divorce once before. []
  2. I’ll explain why some other time. []