Every Negative has a Positive

Negative: I couldn’t get a single book on audio this semester.

Positive: I spent Thursday and Friday ready out loud to myself in funny accidents to get through the pages.

Negative: I should have than work on the video and the paper, but I was not able to focus on it after all the reading.

Positive: I was inspired to work on my book which has a deadline coming up. So, I got lost in this story and the words.  Relived a few life lessons and before I knew it was 1 am.

Negative: My youngest, who is a night owl.  Requested an hour of TV and in my bed at 1AM. I explained to him that I am going to fall asleep and that he is too big to sleep in my bed.

Positive: I could snuggle with him and after 30 minutes before telling him that I couldn’t keep my eyes open.  He agreed to end the movie if I will tuck him in.

Saturday was just one of those days and was not nearly as productive as it should have been, it was full of interruptions.  There are several reasons as to why this weekend was going to be full of changes.

Negative: The older teenager was going to be here and his plans change from hour to hour. Consisting of mom take me here, mom pick me up there. This is not unusual for a teenager, but I was trying to write a fucking paper.

Positive: He re-met and a friend of mine, and for the first time since the divorce he said. “I like him, he seems chill”

I reminded my oldest that this man and I are just friends, and that I have too much on plate to date.  This idea of me letting people met my children is hard for me, even if they are friends.  The fact that he liked someone even if it was a friend was huge because he doesn’t like anyone new.

Negative: Unexpected visitors:

Positive: My wonderful supportive mom stops by and for the most didn’t interrupt me directly.  She drove with me to drop the boys off and even stayed late to watch a movie with them, while working on my paper.

Negative: I don’t like going to the grocery store. It feels like a waste. I understand that we need food to survive, but it mostly feels expensive. It used to give me a panic attack. Now it’s just annoying with the time and the crowds.

Positive: I got to go grocery and my mom made this trip more pleasant. Plus, the kids brought in and put away all the groceries away for me.

Sunday had just as many distractions, but there are ways a better way to look at the situations and find the best part of it.

Release and Reset

When I sat down to write a post to accompany this painting this is what came out. It is not what had originally intended, but I suppose it is part of the release.  It’s raw and vulnerable, which is not a side of myself I normally share.

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Dear Lover,

When we met, you were exactly what I was looking for… I didn’t want a relationship. I wanted someone who would fuck. Sex was my drug. My way to avoid. It was my way to forget the real world and we did it well. You had woken up things inside me that hadn’t existed in my marriage.

Two months into this thing that we were doing you told me you loved me. I was scared and tried to joke it off.  That night we enter the veil and the sex was euphoric.  Except, I was not ready for love and didn’t want to be loved. I didn’t deserve it.  I wanted to be fucked.

We took a break during the fifth month, but by month six we were back to fucking.  In month Seven, I knew she was more than your roommate, and I let you avoid the question because I enjoyed this veil. It meant I didn’t have to be fully invested. During the end of month eight I was seeking someone new, because after all I knew this would end. By month ten, I confirmed that she was your girlfriend and ended with you.  I told myself it was some sort of moral issue.  Until you would call and we would fuck again. I liked this veil the outside world didn’t exist there.

Your drunk love was impressive, but I knew it wasn’t real love. I started actively trying to start another relationship. You would pop in and out. Sometimes I would tell you to go away and put off your confusions of love. Others I would cave and fuck you for hours getting lost in the euphoria.

Month 14, I had tried to sleep with someone new but sexually he and I didn’t fit; it didn’t work; and it wasn’t you. I denied to myself that my heart was confused because none of this made sense. During months, fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen, I still tried to replace you. I met farm boy and lawn care guy both fun for various reasons. I tried a little harder with Farm boy. His sex drive was closer to mine, but again, it didn’t work. It wasn’t you and after all you were still popping in and out. By month, twenty-two we were back in full swing.

At twenty -eight, I wanted more than sex and ended again with you. I wasn’t ready to move in and you were. I wanted to date and you had to figure what she was to you. I understood that you loved both of us after all you start seeing both of us at the same time.  When I told you we had to be done and we fought. I believed it was over.

Except in month thirty, you were back again professing your love. You want it all, you said, you loved me, and you were moving out.  You asked to move in and I again said no. Responding with we needed to try dating.  I knew we fucked well. The veil was the place that we worked. We didn’t know if we work anywhere else. I wasn’t a new divorcee anymore. I was on my path and this thing wasn’t going to change that.

In months thirty-one and thirty-two I would remind you of what you had said and asked for a when. You would tell me your fears and your secrets and I just accepted them.  During month thirty-two, I really did know we were never going to be more than the sex. Yet we still played this game both knowing it was over, but still pulled and not sure how to quit.

In month thirty-three… you had been caught… we had been caught

The text message DENY IT ALL – hit me like a ton of bricks.

I don’t when, exactly, I had fallen for your drunk love. I thought my heart was protected from it by the logic of this sexual connection. Somehow, your words had seeped into my heart and it didn’t make sense.

This thought of denying it all torn me apart. I wanted to protect you, but if I had denied it, if I didn’t confess my truth, it would have meant it was never real.

I cried because I didn’t want to love you, but I did. I can’t even tell when it must have happened, but it did.  When you showed in what would have been month thirty-four, I caved and I knew I would, I was hurting and the veil was my escape. You asked me to hate you. I told you I wanted to and I was trying to.

You rambled your drunk words. I loved your dick and you loved my pussy. Yes, it was love, but not love with balance. We had let this go of this sexual love. You love hard and drinker harder because it scares you. We don’t make sense in the real world and we only worked inside the veil that we had created where no one else was allowed. Except, the veil has been broken and I’m finally ready for the more.

I will find love that balances my mind, my heart, and my sexual desires. Our sexual love worked, but it only when there was honesty and trust.

I always saw you for who you were and fall in love you anyway. I know my hurt will fade and I will love again. I thank you for all that you helped awaken within me. It was an experience that I will carry with me always. So live well and keep loving.

Wishing you balance,

The Artist

The Debris

There’s nothing better than spending your lunch hour on your roof soaking up some sun. I have longed for the warmth of nature.  I climbed out my window onto my porch roof and removed the debris of what was him, the sticks, so many sticks, a rotting pepper, a bottle of bug spray, and a phone book all things that he threw at my window in the middle of the night to wake me up. Now the only physical evidence of him that remains are few pieces of broken glass from the window, he broke last year and an unopened Christmas present.  I knew all along that eventually I would have to let him go. I also knew that in order to honor myself, I would have to tell the truth, even though he asked me to deny it all.

I know that my apologies will never repair the pain that was cause in the end. This wasn’t the ending that I want yet it’s the ending that I knew would come.

Sitting here in the sun, I find comfort in the release it all. No matter how hard I fought his lies, a part of me wanted them to be true.   I’m really ready for more and to letting go of him was the biggest step.

I will post those unpublished drafts of this process. The moments of deliberation the contemplation, but for now I’m cleaning up the debris. He was always meant to be a lesson.

Glimpse of my past

Below is my thoughts I wrote, but never published in response to an article I had read. I tried to find the article again to share it, but I was unable to. July marks several big events in my life.

This was written a week before I signed my divorce papers.

OCTOBER 2o14:

I read this article because of the title. I understand how hard it is when you realize that you and your spouse are no longer as in love as you were in the beginning of a marriage. She made some valid points, being a woman today contains so many pressures. We have to prove that you can not only provide financial support and run the household,  but also be devoted mothers to our children.  She made changes to be less stressed, and seemingly has a spouse that responded to her changes. The reality is that only works when both people are willing to make changes and work together on the relationship.

The hardest part of my marriage truthfully, was when I realized how depressed he was. Sadly, I had given up talking  about it because it would just turn into a fight, it wasn’t until the boys started noticing things. He did go get help and it was an improvement, but also understood that there was more that could have been done.

He had made many efforts with the kids. I watched for years as he suffered silently because he could no longer let me in and I in turn I had shut him out.  I felt like I was watching our marriage slowly destroy the people we were and the people we had become.

I knew that the relationship that he had with his family was strained because of our marriage. He didn’t want to choose and he shouldn’t have had to. I knew that I could not deal with his family’s over involvement  and constant criticism of the person I was. My husband was stuck with agreeing with them or defending me. He tried for years to smooth this over, by avoiding it or by fighting with me and/or them.

I could no longer watch this conflict destroy him. He physically looked sick, his skin was pale, he always seem tired and quick tempered. I knew this was something that after fourteen years had never gotten better and never would. I had tried to repair and pretend it was all okay.  I finally made the choice and asked him to move out.

After only a few short weeks, I saw life in him again. He had color again, he looked healthy and happy. He seemed to have a new zest for life that I hadn’t seen in years. He was spending time with people that he had distanced himself from over the years. I don’t know for sure if that was him, me, or just life, but he no longer seemed lost.  The boys also talk about the things they do with their dad, and that he seems better than before.

Through this whole process I struggled with whether or not this is what I wanted. I was scared. I had no job when he moved out and I didn’t know how I was going to financially support myself or our boys.  I knew that I couldn’t let that fear continue to be the driving force that kept us married. I didn’t want him to hate me and I didn’t want to hate him. I also really wanted my friend back. Once I was able to get a job, which I love, I was able to look at our marriage with clearer eyes.  Seeing him physically looking healthier I know that we made the right decision. He needs his family and I knew that they would never truly respect, love, or make me a part of their family.  Although I knew I was no longer in love with him, I still loved him as a person and as the father of my children. I gave up my marriage to save the person I had been in love with for years.  His well-being was more important than us being married. 

Dear Fuckboy

I thought I would have more of a epic feeling when I let you go. I knew when I met you that there would be an ending to this chapter. Ha-Ha, I really didn’t think you would have a chapter but you most certainly do.  We manage to keep the lines clear for the most part. There were moments when the lines were blurry, usually in the euphoria of mind blowing sex.

However, everytime we came back to this reality, the truth was we are not on the same vibrational level. I also know we have attempted to end this several times, but we still keep falling back into this pattern. I have told you I am ready for more  and that you are not the one.  I want someone who will connect to my mind, my heart and my soul. You are not this man.

I used you to make the hurtful emotions I was dealing with to go away. I wanted you to bring me to that euphoric state. But I’m also aware that it was time to deal with the hurt and to not go numb or replace it.  I no longer need to be afraid to let down my guard, so instead of texting “let’s fuck”, I texted “let’s end this for real”

You didn’t put up a fight you responded “do what you want”

However, when you came to my house at 12:30 AM and woke me up, not by a phone call or a text, but my throwing shit at my bedroom window like a teenage trapped inside a 40 year old man’s body. This was a violation of a clear line drawn out previously that you are not allowed here when my kids are home!

You seemed shocked when I opened the door not with a smile, but a baseball bat. I remind you that I had told you I was done. I reminded you that my children were home.

We didn’t fight there was not yelling. You were drunk, trying to convince me that I am the one and we should run away together. I lightened the grip on my bat. When tried to kiss me and I turned my head, you looked so hurt and when you went in for a second kiss and I gave in.

I felt nothing! I was no longer connecte; I had released myself!

The bat still in my right hand, hanging by my side. I look at you and said I release you too!  I am done, don’t come back, go give yourself to some who needs you.

I left you standing there on my porch. I went inside, locked the door behind me, turn off the porch light and went to bed peacefully.

Good bye fuckboy you have served your purpose!

Ready for the Pieces

Dating at 35 with a pretty clear head of what I want in a partnership has been challenging. Partly because I started before I was ready. Before I did the real work. I got attached to men that were emotionally and sometimes physically unavailable. This is my pattern, my mirror because the truth is/was I am emotionally unavailable. My emotional, physical, and mental needs are out of wack.

It has been a series of mix signals, vagueness, and men afraid of hurting my feelings, ghosting, or just keeping me as a possibility. Seriously, a TIP for men and women, stop fucking playing games, it is unnecessary. If you are not interested, just say it. Yes, there will be hurt feelings, but it hurts a lot less the not knowing and for fuck sake if you don’t know say that too. The truth can be hard to hear, but is better for both to be on the same page.

Communication!!! I’m not sure why we are so fucking afraid of this action.

Life is messy and everyone is on their own path and at different stages of the game. For I while I thought that maybe this was payback, karma for something I had done to someone else. After several bad dates, I agreed to give Mr.X a shot. We had been connecting. The date was decent but we were not in the same place. I was still shut out and while he kissed me good night I shut down, completely. I look him in the eyes and said “I don’t feel this. I know you want to be loved and I can’t give you that.” I didn’t want to waste his time and he had done nothing wrong. He accepted that and we have remained friends and not Facebook friends, but actually friends. After that, I shut down for a while convinced myself I wasn’t ready. I did have some things I still had to work on.

One still is, ending it with fuck boy, it’s a temptation, but one I should give it up. It’s time, time for my mind, my vagina, and most importantly my heart to match.

I met Mr. X over the weekend, I was reluctant at first, but decide it’s time to focus on the moment. This was marvelous and short lived.

Here’s what I learned:

I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed intimacy. The touch of a man and looking into somebody’s eyes as you both try to figure it all out. It’s rare that a man can make me live in the moment and keep my mind from racing with a million scenarios of why it won’t work. Although, I tried. The intimate touches are different than fucking. Sexual attraction is easy. It’s going beyond that. It’s about open up my heart that is so difficult. When he asked me to dance and he touched me, I didn’t shut down. Through the course of the next few days I thought “I can open up, be vulnerable and accept the possibility of love”

I was reminded what it’s like to kiss somebody you like. To think I can get on this ride. I can test the waters. I can be open and comfortable to feel that a sensual touch. I let down my guard and listened to his heartbeat under your ear. I felt safe at that moment. I realized how much I actually missed by being so guarded. I also realize that there are men out there that can be in touch with their needs and can be honest about where they are at.

It was brief and I was upset over that brief encounter ending because I realized I what I been missing. I’m a little scared, but I am ready to be more open.

I want a partner! I don’t want a boyfriend or I don’t want a husband. I want somebody who will share in my excitement, my sorrows, my life experiences and I want to share theirs. I may not be ready to share my whole world with anyone just yet. However, I ready to share pieces at first. I know when the right person comes along I will be able to share my whole world.

For now I am ready start with pieces, and the process might be messy, but it might just turn out beautiful at the same time. It’s a whirlwind of emotions that are magnificent. I miss being vulnerable and letting people in. I’m not saying I don’t still have stuff that I’m working on and dealing with it, personal goals that I’ve set for myself, but I’m ready to be in the moment and not over think the next step.

Brain vs. Vagina

I figure for my first post I would dive right in and give you a real glimpse of my thoughts.

I feel that more women actually have this internal argument than they are willing to admit. After my divorce, this was pretty much a no brainer. I wanted sex! You know the kind I am talking about hot, dirty, sweaty pig sex.

Oh man, did I find it!

Wow, I had forgotten how much fun sex could be when you don’t have the relationship crap attached to it.

After a few months, my brain started asking questions about this man that made my vagina so happy. Yes, he was good with his tongue, his fingers, and his dick. However, we had no other real connection.

My friends have labeled him as the “Fuck boy.” This on again off again sexual relationship has lasted longer than either of us expected and not because we belong together but because we can equally meet each other’s sexual needs.

This works because I am honest with him about my feelings. I have made it very clear that this works because we are not committed to each other. I am not saying we don’t get mad at each other. There are times when we can’t meet up because real life gets in the way. The key here is HONESTY. I know that’s a scary word, but it really is the best practice.

We have taken breaks because of emotions. About six months ago I took a step back from “Fuck boy” because I was reevaluating what I wanted. I dated a few men, but most could not handle my brutal truth. Yes, it’s very direct and can be intimidating.

I was on this date with this guy. I had a great connection with the exception of his humor as the night went on became very childish. At the end of the night, he came in for a nightcap. My brain was having this freak out session because I was not that into this guy, but my vagina was having a moment of it’s a man with a dick lets see if it works.

Then, it hit me, I was horny. I had not been laid in a while. Trying that whole let’s not have sex thing until all the connections meet. I sent this man home told him that I was not going to sleep with him. I enjoy are dated, but it didn’t go any further than that.

After multiple internal arguments, I caved and gave into my sexual urges. Queue Fuck boy. This was another one of the honest conversations. Rules and guidelines, we are both free to see other people.

No, the sex isn’t as often as it was, but it’s still just as satisfying as before. It’s a release of the stress of life and allows me to make better decisions when I evaluating who I want to give my time, my heart, and my energy too.

Brain knows that it’s time to find a stimulating relationship that hits all of my needs mental, emotionally, and sexually. But in the meantime, when rubbing it out isn’t enough, I know fuck boy will get the job done.