A new chapter in an old book

There used to be this website (it may still exist, I am just too lazy to check) called FaceTheJury.com

It was literally a website in which you posted photos of yourself and let others rate them and in turn you rated theirs as well as other strangers. At some point back in 2005 I created a profile and got to work. It wasn’t long after creating the profile that I came across a profile, bigger guy with glasses, pretty cute. I gave him 10s and shortly after he returned the favor.

We chatted here and there. I was a senior in high school and I believe that he had just graduated. We exchanged phone numbers and made a few calls back and forth. He still lived at home with his mom and that was about a 45 minute drive, which at the time seemed like an eternity. We never met up but we added each other on MySpace – crazy, I know.

I recall he made me his number 1 on his top 8, I returned the favor. We chatted for awhile but it just never went anywhere and I didn’t stay as his number 1 for long, so naturally I removed him from that position on my wall as well.

Years passed, 2 to be exact, and somehow I found myself living alone for the first time in my life and not all that far from him. We struck up a conversation one night and decided that maybe after all that time we should finally meet in person. I don’t recall if it was that night that I chose to go to his apartment or one night soon after, but it didn’t take long for me to find myself at his place watching Family Guy.

It was a bachelor pad for sure, an apartment he shared with a roommate. No decor, mismatched furniture. We sat next to each other for a brief moment, chatting nervously about nonsense, probably the episode that was playing in the background. And before long he pulled me onto his lap. Things got heated quickly and he actually carried me to his room. To this day I am still surprised by how much bigger than me he is, it’s always a shock when I see him. An extra foot really does make a lot of difference when you are as short as I am.

The sex was fantastic and it was also my undoing. I think that after that night we spent most nights together and within a couple of weeks we weren’t apart at all outside of work. I remember bringing all of my belongings to his house, I think I lived out of a tote for several months before we finally took the plunge and got an apartment.

Our story is heartbreaking but leading up to the end we had some fun. The summer of 2007 was the happiest time of my life. There are a lot of reasons for this but the biggest reason was that he loved me. And I loved him. I still love him.

Buckle up bitches, shit is about to get real.

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Unrelated

This is unrelated to my previous train of thought. But I need to vent. And this is the perfect outlet.

My husband leaves to do lawncare before I wake up. He gets home in time to have lunch and then shower and head to his “day job”. He works the day job until midnight, gets home and goes to bed.

On weekends he typically does lawncare most of the day. I see him for lunch and dinner typically. And we spend the evening watching shows on Netflix.

I get no time to myself. None. I can’t even check the mail without having to worry if my son is going to open the screen door and let my stupid ass puppy loose.

I shouldn’t complain. My husband works hard so that I can stay home and raise our child. But for fuck sake. A little bit of a break would be wonderful.

It’s almost 1 am and this is literally the only time I have had for myself today. My son just laid down for bed with my husband. Just before my husband got home my son made a big ass mess. Candy all over the kitchen. My husband walked right by it, completely ignored it and wandered off to bed.

I can’t even get a little help. And yet somehow he wonders why I am so stressed. So irritable. So on edge. And never in the mood to put out. Why the fuck would I want to please him when he can’t even help me a little?

Want to know how I spent Mother’s Day? I went to see my family, with my son, my husband stayed home so he could work – supposedly. When I finally got home the house stunk so bad like rotten garbage. I asked why he left the trash can full all weekend, with left over food and dirty diapers in it. His response? You were the last one to throw something away.

I had to drive to the Chinese place to get my “special dinner”. And when I got home I was lucky enough to eat and then clean up the mess. Just a fantastic day.

He couldn’t even be bothered to help bathe our son. And when I asked him to grab some pajamas? He complained that he had just got comfortable on the couch.

Sometimes I think that I would rather be single. It seems as tough it might be a little easier.

Hurt

“If I ever loved a woman, the more I loved her, the more I wanted to hurt her. Frida was only the most obvious victim of this disgusting trait.” ~ Diego Rivera

While I’m not planning to fall in love with a woman any time soon this quote seemed fitting. This person and I, we share the same trait. 

I was talking to my sister about my dilemma – about the deal I’m making with the devil. I said to her, “I’m such a shitty person.” And she responded, “We all are.”

And it brought me a sense of comfort. Not unlike a warm blanket. 

She then said to me, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” To which I replied, “Bitch. I hurt every day.” And I do. I really, really do. 

But today, I feel alive. I have an infectious smile. And although I know that it will fade fast, as a matter of fact I can feel it fading now, I need this. I need to feel…something. For far too long I have felt nothing. And there’s nothing worse than feeling nothing. 

And so it begins. Again.

It seems as though I am at a crossroads.

So here I am, digging a hole for my box. The box with my picture and that graveyard dirt. Waiting for the red eyed demon to come and make a deal for my soul.

Is that a little too Supernatural-y for you? Okay, lets just pretend the crossroads is metaphorical.

I know what I want. But I also know that what I want is so, so bad for me. I’m like a junkie, looking for my next fix. And I can picture how it’s going to play out because I have been here a thousand times before and I have lived through this exact same scenario more times that I can count. So why then, do I want to do this again?

I am working on convincing myself that this time it will be different. And maybe it will be. But maybe it won’t.

And before you start to question whether or not this is about Dan, let me help you with that. It’s not. But it just as easily could be. The feeling I have in the pit of my stomach is the exact same. The contagious smile that I have had on my face for the days is one that’s a little too familiar.

So what’s next?

A fucking baby?

Once a month, maybe every other month, it seems that Dan gets this bug up his ass and wants to message me to hang out. For some reason I always respond to the messages. And sometimes I even entertain the idea of meeting up with him. Which is wrong, I know! But I honestly could never go through with it, even though it always sounded really, REALLY fun.

Last weekend was no different. I got the standard “Hows it goin” text. And that’s always the first text. Always missing the apostrophe between the “w” and the “s”. Never the letter “g” to finish off the word going. Never a question mark to end the sentence properly.

We talked back and forth. Actually, now that I think of it, we talked randomly throughout the month. He asked repeatedly when I would be coming back into town and I had no intentions of making any special trips. But it just so happened that I was coming into town to pick up a puppy for a friend of mine. I told him on Friday that I would be coming into town Sunday and he said that we should meet up, just name the place.

That’s where it got weird for me. Up until then every time he tried to schedule a hook up he asked me to come by his house. I don’t remember the address but I can say that it would be a convenient place to stop, I would be very close to it when I exited the free-way to go to my home town or enter the free-way to head back home. But this time was different.

He didn’t say to come over. He said he would meet me. So I knew that something was going on. I knew that circumstances had changed that would prevent me from going to the house he just bought. Part of me thought that he had taken his ex back. But then I remembered him saying that she had moved on and had a baby with someone else already. So what could it be…someone else?

Funny things happen when you log onto Facebook sometimes. For example, sometimes you log on to find a status update from Dan’s mother where she announces that Dan’s girlfriend is in the hospital having a FUCKING BABY.

Even up until 6 months ago I feel like this news may have devastated me. But yesterday it just made me laugh. And it made me so fucking thankful that I didn’t fall back into that toxic waste dump that would have been a relationship with him. I guess the only thing that bothers me is knowing that I was never good enough for him to want those same things with.

But then, maybe I was too good? Maybe I was too good for him.

Passion

A friend of mine was at the house the other day. We were talking about relationships. 

Her relationship of 7 years had just ended. She said “He may not have been the best to me but the one thing we did have was passion. And I just don’t see that in your relationship. It seems like you’re just going through the motions.”

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that. As I sit here in passengers seat of my husband’s truck while he drives us across the state it’s the only thing on my mind. There is no passion. 

Hugging and kissing him has become a chore. And we haven’t had sex in several months. It bothers him, we talk about it often. Well, he complains about it often. We tried to talk about it just now and it turned into an argument. 

Bottom line – I just don’t want to do those things. And I don’t know how to change it. It’s not like I want to do those things with other people either. So please don’t think I’m out dry humping strangers. 

A lot changed for me when I found out what my husband was up to on Craigslist. And I know that he hasn’t been on since. But it shook me to my core. And it’s more than just that. The pregnancy, the postpartum depression, the ongoing struggle to find happiness…all of those things are affecting my drive to be intimate. 

But as I sit here with my seat laid back and my feet up on the dash I continue to think about that word – PASSION. And when I think of passion I think of Dan. We had enough passion to last a lifetime, too bad it ran out when I got married lmao

I’ve dreamt of him often lately. And although I know I couldn’t bring myself to cheat on my husband I often think about just calling him up and having him meet me somewhere for a parking lot randevous. I can picture how it would be. And I know that it would be one for the record books.

It’s been awhile

It really has.  But I am back!

I started this blog because I was confused. “So what do you do when “the one that got away” walks back into your life?”

About 2 years had passed since shit hit the fan with Dan and I. One night I had a dream that something terrible happened to him and I just had to know if he was still out there somewhere. I sent an email, it was a long shot. Weeks went by without a response and I couldn’t help but think the worst. Until one day….there it was…a response.

He let me know he was ok. And that he was single, he finally left that bitch he was with. My first thought was, “Great, how do I hide the fact that I am married and have a kid?” I decided it was best for him to just know. I was still at a point of being unsure about my marriage and I owed it to myself to see him and gain some closure. He told me to “hit him up” when I came back into town, so I told him I would come the next day.

I timed the trip so  we would be on the road at the same time. We met at a truck stop. He got into my vehicle and we just sat there in silence for a few moments. I asked him why he couldn’t leave her before but was able to now. Apparently she had cheated on him. Karma sure is a bitch. I explained my situation to him, I told him that I wasn’t sure I would be staying in my marriage and that if things went south at home I wanted to give it another shot with him. I told him that I was still in love with him. He never really had a way with words so his response of, “I still care for you” seemed sufficient at the time. He kissed me, and it was just as amazing as it had always been. But I had to stop it there. I told him we could see each other again soon.

Several weeks went by and when I came home for Christmas we met at one of our old hang outs – I brought a friend with me to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid. I can’t even begin to explain to you how it felt. For awhile I just looked at him in awe. I never thought that we would be doing this again. Part of me wanted to kiss him and the other part wanted to hit him with my car. For a moment it was like time stood still, like nothing had changed and things were back to the way I remembered. He looked so good. It wasn’t long before my cheeks hurt from smiling. When it was time to go I walked him to his truck and I told him again that I still loved him. I kissed him goodbye and cried the entire drive home. I cannot recall a time that I cried as hard as I did that night.

He sent me a text saying that he wanted to see me again and because I was staying with my parents for a few days over the holiday it was easy to make happen. Adrenaline was high, I told him I wanted him the worst way. We made plans to meet and do what we did best. When I got to him things changed. I couldn’t bring myself to sleep with him. If I was going to leave my husband that was one thing, but cheating on him just didn’t seem right. Dan told me he didn’t want to be in a relationship right away, and I told him I wouldn’t be getting divorced right away. He said that he could “probably” see us being together in the future. And honestly, that’s all I needed to hear to know that it wasn’t going to work out.

I have a child. I couldn’t just play Russian roulette with his feelings because I wanted to act like a horny school girl and run away with an old fling.

I guess when the “one that got away” walks back into your life it’s not so easy to just run away with them.

My husband was eagerly waiting for my son and I to return home from my parents. I looked at him and just knew. I really need to try and make this work. I decided that I was going to give it my all, keep going to therapy and get back on medication to help with my depression. For as long as I can remember when things got hard I usually just gave up. For once in my life I decided that I am not going to be that person any more.

Love and Marriage

The time came to plan our wedding. I refused to have anything extravagant, I didn’t want his douche lord friends there to ruin my big day and I didn’t want to waste a bunch of money. I finally settled on a small event, up north at my grandmother’s house – over looking the river.

Leading up to the wedding was fine enough. Even the night before was ok. The morning of I went to my hair appointment. By the time I got to my grandmother’s house Justin was already drinking. I walked up to find him doing shots of Fireball. Are you fucking kidding me. My main complaint about his friends was that he became a different person in their company and this proved my point.

To even get through the day and not call off the wedding I knew I needed to do something. I took a couple of my anxiety pills. My grandmother knew I was having second thoughts, she laughed about needing anxiety pills too and we busted into the Sangria. By the time I needed to be walking down the aisle I was gone. I can honestly say that I have no recollection of walking down the aisle, saying my vows, exchanging rings, getting photos taken or riding to the bar for our reception.

Apparently I stared at the ground the entire ceremony. People were talking about it. Asking what was wrong with me. All of my photos are terrible, I didn’t smile in a single one. And my reception? Fuck. I didn’t get to dance with my father or my husband. It was a joke.

We limped along for the first few weeks. Then shit really hit the fan. I saw that he had wrote down a screen name and password near my computer. I wondered if it was for his email. And I decided that once you are married you sacrifice your right to privacy, so I logged into his email and started scrolling. Almost immediately I saw messages from Craigslist.

A month before our wedding he had posted an ad, looking for an older man to “please”. He had also replied to several ads, inquiring about oral and sexual favors. And this wasn’t it. As I kept scrolling I found more and more instances of him posting and replying to ads. Some were to women. But most were men. He exchanged photos of his dick. Talked about being a bottom, craving some guys cum.

This shit went way back too, years before he and I had even met. But it continued through our entire relationship. Starting right about the time he proposed to me. And I wasn’t going to let this shit stay buried. I called him out on it. All of it. I stayed away for a few days while I tried to decide what to do. Every time we talked about it he would lie. He tried saying that he only did it a couple times, then said he only did it while drunk (some of this posts were during the day while he would have been at work), he also tried saying that he had never actually done anything with a man….but eventually admitted to having exchanged oral favors in the past – he only admitted to that after I told him I found the exchange of addresses between him and this other guy.

About a week went by, I decided that I would try to work things out with him. I moved back into the house but we slept in separate rooms for a few weeks. As of today, Justin and I have been married for almost a year and a half and we have only had sex 7 times. Part of the issue is my depression, my hormones and the lack of a sex drive in general. The other part….he destroyed me. I finally let my guard down and trusted a man, finally gave a relationship my all and the person I thought I could depend on let me down. There is no love, no desire for a physical connection any more. I don’t even like kissing him. And I know it tears him apart. But I don’t know what else to do.