Cynic's right, of course.
But, troll, why do you always have to be a Fail Troll? Don't go by maybes. Go by the truths you know, then go deeper. And, I've spilled all the truths you or any troll needs to really do some damage, but you never do. You can't. It's because you're not smart enough to go deeper. But, you could have at least been lazy and used my age, my self-deception, my desperation, my past failed relationship(s), any of the truths I have aired here as reasons for his reluctance for sexual intercourse. It wouldn't have been that much of a success if you had, but at least it wouldn't have been a complete fail. And, certainly you would not use reasons that I've essentially ruled out from posting exhaustingly about it, here. I have written endlessly about how massive this boy is, that he has changed my vaginal landscape by his sheer size. But, even so, I've also mentioned that our sex has caused me bleeding for lengths of time. This would indicate vaginal tears. You don't get vaginal tears if you're loose. And, I've never written it here, but he moans about how tight and wet I am when we're screwing, as recently as the last time we did, and I doubt he'd say it if I weren't.
Even though I believe he has changed my vaginal landscape, the boy is still simply too huge for me to ever possibly be too loose. And, the fact that that possibility exists in your mind to troll so, only speaks volumes of your own experiences and how small you must be. Unless you bring a mouse to bed with you, you'll never be able to say that you've changed anyone's genitals to match your own massiveness. I know how jealous that makes you wee boys, but relax, as I'm sure with someone as tiny as you, I would indeed be said mineshaft.
I suppose one of my biggest secrets that I can't tell even Secrettalk, but it may be safe here:
I miss this. So f*****g much above anything or anyone else, I miss this and the life as lived at the time of this thread. I still think I was funny, and I f*****g miss that. I'm sorry if you may not have ended liking it as much as you seemed to or as much as I thought you did, but eff it, I was funny! We were funny. I thought we were so awesome. I thought you were so awesome. I loved my life. I loved you. No matter how I've felt during these two and a half years, I've always ALWAYS missed you throughout. Even this morning, walking home from the gym, remembering a great date night at the Centrum at AMC theatres, I said out loud "I miss that Tom", before I could correct myself with reality. It's still my first instinct and reaction to great memories, missing you still so desperately much. Even though it seems clear that you weren't real, that there really was no Tom who I could miss because I didn't know him, I can't help it. I lived my life with you as if it and you were real for 14 years. My experience in that time may have been the only thing about us that was actually real, it was very much real to me. So, I can't help but validate it. You should never know this, as it's handing you a psychological weapon, but the old Tommy I believed in, the one in my head for 14 years, the one I love who is now dead if he ever existed . . . I would want him to know. I would want him to know that I will always love him, that he was the best thing that ever happened to me, that I loved my life together with him, that he will always be adored, and that I can't wait until we meet again in the hereafter. But, please don't make any mistake about it. That sentiment is not for you nor will it ever be, evil TomTwin. Just, if he isn't dead, pass it along to the prisoner you're holding captive inside of you who was once the greatest and sweetest love of my life. I will always miss and love him, and I will always hate you.
LOL! Thanks. I doubt it's more interesting, I think I just get excited about nothing and it reflects.
This won't do. My issue comes from something really bloody easy and obvious, and it's always been there. The solution? Crazy easy answer, only requires guts and a plan to execute stands in my way. Guts. Let's get some guts. Let's get real honest, now. It's the peak of my life. Everyone and their sister knows what I need to do. Not that it'll be easy to accomplish, but first, I can't even attempt it without guts.
Moreover, I'm sick. I've made myself sick physically, psychology, and emotionally. I'm cutting back on the weed smoking, effective immediately. I feel like hell, and my mind is swimming so much. I can't just be high or otherwise altered all the time, anyway. If life needs such a filter for me to enjoy it, I'm not living it right.
Which brings us right to another piece of reality I've not been handling right. Derek. Oh man. I really don't like this one, nor will I be rushing about it, too painful. Finally thinking I'd better finish up, here. It's going the same place it's been going for over a year. Time to either max out my efforts completely, so there is nothing else I can possibility do, so that I can finally throw in the towel, or just realize the end game will be the same, screw any further effort, and start the undesired process of ending our dynamic.
Plus, the whole living well thing, I've gotta get back to.
Well, I had never been so sick with a hangover that I was rushed to the hospital before, but yeah, a full day should do it! Just some McD's when it's safe to eat again, and a real night sleep, and that should be the end of that nonsense.
I did use bleach to clean it. Came right off. Don't know if that means a dang thing. I own an air conditioner that has a dehumidifying option. Could use that. Kinda puzzled as to why there's mold in the spot where it is, or why it's only become an issue now as opposed to any other time in the past nine years of being here.
I feel you so much.
And, I just opened up mail from the dealership. Larger payout than expected. I may be able to check my bank account today without dying from worry, which already makes one deed done that I said I was going to.
Dan didn't have much to say for himself about ditching me. That's not good. That limits what we can be. But, he's coming at me with enthusiasm, which is very good. Still good for a romp, which we had, and will be seeing each other again, today.
Then, I bee-bopped over to Derek's after I was done with Dan to see what scraps I could get from him. To which, nothing for me, only for him. Flat out refused me sex. Took his orgasm from me, rolled over. Now, THIS is why I don't feel bad about going from one to the other, one right after the other. Both come up short, so what I can't find in one. . .
Oh s**t, oh s**t, oh S**T! I came home from being over at my sister's, and there's a possible job offer from my old licensing boss from years and years ago waiting for me on my answering machine. I can't ignore her. She wants to know that I'm okay. We've been working together again since I began employment at the dealership, as we used her license office. Actually, I got us to switch over to her office after I started.
But, that job killed me, threw me into a nervous fit. I had a breakdown, and it affected me for years, was terrified of working, terrified of people and breathing wrong, couldn't handle life, had anxiety, stress, panic, worry, pressure, nervousness, and a bad temper with a chip on my shoulder, to add. Just a terrible mess. Then when I was ready, I wasn't able to find a job for two years. I know I'm a different person now, but I hated and still fear that job. I'd rather have the job I just lost back. I worry that I may not be as sturdy as I thought. I did wonderfully not taking work home with me, for the exception of my last weekend, but the fact is, it did. Now that I'm out of there, I feel that I'm quickly recovering. I'm looking at people again and talking to people again. I'm positive, forward thinking, calm. So, I don't want a setback. I don't want to be trapped and damaged anymore by a horrible job. But, I don't want to make a mistake and turn down possible employment so soon after losing employment, as I'm limited in time with the money I have. It could be like a beat never skipped, this way.
Screw it. That place robbed me of life, energy, self-identity, days off, and a summer. I'm fücking walking to the lake and enjoying a final fücking day off, even if it's due to being sacked.
Holy s**t. I put off telling my mom, as I was anticipating a completely different reaction, but she's relieved for me. She didn't even go on about "getting out there and sending resumes". Hell, she was talking about holidays and treating myself. WTF, that's not like her.
In fact, everyone is telling me that it's a good thing, everyone has confidence in me finding something fast. . . but me. Why? Well, 4 months is the quickest I ever found a job after being let go, before that, the last time took me two years. So, I'm taking the past into consideration when I'm completely unconvinced of other's confidence.
Even Derek was great about it, in his low-key way. Was concerned, set up a chair for me because he knew I wanted to sit outside, fed me a pity bowl, pepped me.
I'm not buying any BS, though. I feel like a pile of s**t, like this is the beginning of the end of my life, that fail is the only outcome I get to have in life. I don't have it in me to put rose-tint on. I'm only going to do that for in-person applications and interviews. I won't deepen my negativity on purpose by exaggerating it, but I'm not going to put energy in doing the opposite, either.
Okay, it took me waaaay too long to accept, understand, and appreciate what you both were saying. Thank-you. I think in the end, it's just as simple as I'm being a dumbass stuck in a bit of a temporary identity crisis.
I simply can't process my life, I don't know which way is which, I'm terribly, terribly confused.
But, I see an end to that. I've lately been coming to some conclusions about the puzzle that initiated that confusion, and the answers are so simple, that they must certainly be the right ones. If these conclusions settle in and I get used to them as fact, I think I'll do a fair share of allowing much of my old self to return. And, I'll remember myself again, and remember my value. Thank you both for trying to remind me.
I want to respond, but I'm having a hard time figuring out what to say, just that I'm coming to believe that I get/got in life and love exactly what I deserve. And, if I did deserve better, I would simply have it. Things would have gone differently in my life. And, now, it's too late in life to hold out for much.
Why shouldn't Derek choose the best for himself? HE'S young enough to hold out for more. What 27 year old virile, active,ambitious and smart guy dreams of committing to a 37-year-old clumsy, broke, quiet woman with no life outside of the survival job she has, no action plans to change any of it, who only shares a few commonalities? The fact that he allows me in his bed at all, when he's not really all that interested in sex is baffling, if not flattering.
I don't need to think I'm special, anymore. That's dangerous. I don't buy it. I'm not. Not anymore, likely never was.
When I think about our union in as realistic a mindset as my psyche will allow, this is a bit unbalanced. I am very beautiful, but I'm in my late 30's, too. Not fit (not fat, but not fit), not as young. As awesome as I'm sure I am for my age, Derek is much younger, so very fit and in tremendous shape. He's truly many women's fantasy, and he absolutely has his pick of any girl he could desire. He's into activity and I know would want the same in a partner. I am not athletic as such.
And, when I think of all that, I realize that I'm really out of Derek's league, should probably feel extremely flattered that he chooses to take up with me at all. All of the noncommittal stuff should be understandable to me, when I think that he's likely assessed all this, will probably choose the best for himself when it comes to loving someone, and out of all the women in the world, all the young, fit beauties he could choose or hold out for, how could I think that I should be his romantic end game?
What a dream, what a sham. Weird, odd ride designed to waste time. In reality, I should be feeling lucky that he has ANY desire for me.
Yes, it's Derek again, yeah. I know these are more often than not TMI, but I like to get it out, and no one's in my life that I can blab at about it. I didn't write all I wanted to, because even with this post, I filtered myself.
It was nice to spend a bit of money on myself too, finally. Got some clothes, stuff for around the apartment, new purse.
I'm thinking of getting rid of all my current dish and glassware, even all stemware, except for some sentimental pieces from my childhood or teens. Replacing it all with something appetizing and modern, like cool white square dishes and neato oval bowls. Something clean and uniform looking. I deserve new, crisp, clear, fresh things. I have re-invented myself, however I have, and why shouldn't my current style reflect that?
Today's the day I can say that I, as an employee, am more important than the position they hired me for.