And, yet, look at you all in love with me n' stuff. It's almost cute!
Why besides misery hates happiness, failure hates success, and you're just jealous?
And, doing was indeed done! The pumpkin soup is simmering. The beet salad is chilling. The avocado dip has set. Laundry is soaking in the tub. I didn't get to the sweet potato/apple/cranberry bake nor the chocolate cake, but I am satisfied of just how much I did accomplish. Now, I'm waiting for young Mr. Grumpus to arrive.
While I wait, I'm a cozy wee bug, right now. I'm listening to Blossom Dearie jazz, and the dripping of rain from outside. I'm sipping on a wonderful Chardonnay in the perfect and spotless wine glasses I keep, because I felt I deserved it. Damn, I'm romantic as s**t, really. I'm so very proud that I'm not essentially blue about any of it. I suppose it's because even with someone, I was like this all on my own. I found this music on my own, I had this in my personality all on my own. I enjoyed it mostly all on my own. I thought I was fueled by a great love, but I wasn't. I was fueled by me under the comfort of believing that I was joined by a simpatico second and true love. The invitation to join me was there for the taking. Physically, he joined in from time to time when it was unavoidable. But, if it wasn't adopted in the heart by the one I adored above all, that's not for trying and it's truly not my fault. I suppose I enjoyed so much on my own, when I think on it. The way I internalized and processed my experiences, that was all me. I was on my own, and didn't at all know it. But, should that diminish what it all was to me? It's too bad that it wasn't shared in the soulful way that I felt it. I wanted it so much, I was certain I had it. But, in the end, the truth is here to slap me in the face. However, in its soul, it's all still alive and if everything else was an illusion, the proof in the eventual pudding is that my experiences with him were not dependent on him. They were mine, and still are. It would be nice to share the romance with someone true, granted, but it's truly okay that its not. It's not my loss. Someone else is losing out, and I'm enjoying. I'm so glad that I can, and that I made this happen for myself. Do you know how easy and natural it is for me to do the opposite? To wallow, to melodramatize, to take to misery? I had to fight all of my natural urges to enjoy what I am, all on my own, right now. Yeah, I'm really proud of myself for this.
It likely wasn't the fire, in this instance. It had been already started for over an hour (way after the smokey part and roaring fire had died, and when the flames were died down to cooking embers too, mind you), and it was clear skies until the planes started passing en masse, visibly leaving their trails or streams. Not that you don't have an excellent logical point, but in this instance, and maybe you had to be there to witness it, it was sort of undeniable that the planes were the correlating factor.
Although I'm exceptionally gullible in general and relatively dumb about such things, and Derek isn't as smart as he thinks he is, I at least trust Derek's knowledge via vast experience as he grew up on campfires and stargazing in the remote wild enough that he'd know the difference between light or smoke or cloud interference and something else he's not otherwise used to. This was something that he's not otherwise used to.
Oh, f**k off.
Just, f**k right off.
Stupid POS sex. Was feeling hot the night before, even all day yesterday. But, you fell asleep on me last night, and this morning, you just wanted to start ramming as soon as wake me up. With complete dragon breath and five minutes to spare before we go? I DID say "I'm not doing this, I'm not even a little bit aroused, and it's only just going to make for painful sex". So, I tried to stand up for myself. What happens after that? LOL! A complete display of how ignorant you are after all this time to what I like. Start kissing my nipples, start BITING my nipples. Sort of fumbling with kissing around my chest. Pathetic. I know I've told you once, so I've probably told you multiple times, the boobs do nothing for me, nothing at all. They only do something for YOU. But, why would you remember something that doesn't matter or isn't important to you? Right? So, I stopped that crap so I wouldn't have to endure anymore additional pain, and just let you go ahead and screw me anyways, re-tearing whatever may have already healed, internally.
You suck, kid. You truly suck. Everything else is kinda awesome about us, otherwise having great visits, lots of pets and affection, but this bedstuff is a mess.
You know it! The more goobery and slobbery, the better. First last night, then again this morning.
Yeah, because I've been real stingy with the whole going-down-on-you-multiple-times-a-day-on-my-own-accord thing. Right. Yeah, that's just reserved for cute alpha douchebags, sorry.
And for the blow jobs and massages that no one else can do better. Yeah, I know.
Statement makes no sense. If no one cared about me, they also wouldn't care if I were dead, either. If everyone wishes me dead, then everyone cares about me.
But, I see why you might. You must have graced me with such stupidity in the past and I called your arse out on it similarly. You care enough to create an alt dedicated to me. You care about me quite a bit.
That's very sweet. Thank-you, and you're welcome. Do well, be happy.
Bah. It's not a biggie. I just know for certain that the sex is over for me, which means whatever routine and frequent friendship we have going will be over soon after, as we don't have enough glue elsewhere to keep this sticking together. This whole thing just stinks, but I'm not very upset, probably because it always has stunk and I'm kinda used to it. Plus, I know it's all only going to eventually lead to better things for myself, which could most likely get us coming together in the future, or if not, oh well. I will have moved on and ahead in my life, by then. It's a good thing more than not. I have lots ahead of me and lots to do, and I'm staying focused and am starting to do well and organizing my thoughts and priorities. I want to start making myself as happy and successful as I can get. I'm done with being stuck, and I've found out how I can have power over it and start changing it.
Okay, LOL! Eating it! :D Holy Hannah.
Wow! Thanks for your reply! I don't know anyone who actually owns hens, so it was great to read your experience and advice. :)
He's a f*****g a*****e, really. But, it seems only towards me, and only some of the time. I just don't understand. I wish I had the guts to just cut him out.
I could find a new career today. I could adopt myself out as a brat. I could find a part-time job, today. I could simply ask people for money. I could be richer by the end of the day.
I could change my health by even taking one vitamin today and not stopping every day for the rest of my life.
Yes, I did decide to change my life today, and I'm doing it, and no, it's not wasting time on ST, but I do need to take frequent breaks from what I'm doing due to sciatica. Speaking of that, I could start practicing the stretches a friend forwarded me this week to help me with that. Effing pain. It's been over 3 years. I'm tired of living with it.
Oh, hey! Look at what I discovered! A comment box! Now, you never have to flood the front page with not-so-annonymous "re:"s or " @"s to which no one can actually answer without being forced to post yet another front-page flooder. One topic can brilliantly be contained in one post! Wow! What an unheard of feature!
God gives me chances. Like, a tax credit cheque, and a larger paycheque than I expected.
First things first, I called my bank about the inordinate amounts that they have been charging me a month. Figured out why, easy fix: stop using my debit card for purchases. Cash only. Fine, sort of knew that already, but thought there was a charge cap per month. There isn't. Boils down to: be responsible and accountable. Fine, fine. I've been that way in the past, I can do it now.
Next up: Goodbye Goodlife Fitness. That's a service that I don't use for a whole lot of money a month. Since, I think, February. I could have purchased that bicycle and got fit that way for the amount that I've wasted by not going to the gym and paying for it.
Coming up: Rogers, give me that damn credit for the week my internet was out! And, while we're on the phone together, maybe consider ditching my landline or fish for a current promotion that can help me out.
It's kinda backwards with me. I started off loving the crap out of myself. I still feel I do. My instinct is to feel all sorts of positive about myself, that I'm amazing and fabulous, extremely beautiful and unique and wonderful. So talented, full of idealistic traits and values. However, my love life and past paints a picture of myself being a person that no one can truly love. I won't go into how deep this goes, but at 38, I have to admit to having never been loved by any man, though I have been thoroughly misled many times and for extremely long periods of time, that I had been. Psychologically, it takes its toll. I now find myself single and not at all anyone that any decent single man wants to even date. It's not like I'm not "out there", either. I'm just, somehow, repulsive to anyone's romantic sensibilities. Some bloody plague.
Why am I with this guy? Well, I'm technically not. It's not a relationship. Again, another male who wants nothing to do with me, romantically. He's just someone to focus on or do until someone better comes along, either on my end (pattern seems unlikely this will happen) or his (doubt he'll stay single much longer). Why do I put up with his crap? Because, it's not always crap from him, there are good times, too, but mainly, because there is no one else to put up with.
No, but that's coming from me, which probably doesn't bode well.