Every day since I last saw Edgar, I am consumed with enormous amounts of guilt. I cannot seem to shake any of it and every day I am plagued with the sensation that sooner or later, I will get caught.
I am fucked either way, whether I am caught now or later...
If Dan finds out now, I am stuck with him until the lease is over. I don't know whether he'd kick me out of the apartment or leave me stuck with the rent. Probably the latter, which would mean I'd have to scramble to try and find a roommate in time. There's no way I'd ever look good in that situation. I'd be a total rat.
In the meantime, I am left with the oppressive weight of this secret on my conscience. I can't tear my mind away from it and it ravages every free thought I have in my head. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything else...I get distracted. I now understand why people go mad with guilt. All I want is for it be over, even if that means that Dan would hate me and my friends and family would all be disappointed in me. I'd turn into Public Enemy #1 amongst our circle...but hey, at least I'd be a free woman.
When I'm not dreading the inevitable, I try and put a positive spin on what this would mean for me and Ed. There is no "we" presently...it's all just dreams and fantasies of mine. I daydream on my way home from work about falling in love again....what if Ed suddenly decided that I was the one? Would he stay in SoCal and go to law school in Costa Mesa...would he get over himself and ask me to be his girlfriend? What if we finally had a normal relationship and got married...I'd marry a lawyer and everything would be great.
But it won't happen. Stories like this don't end happily. You can't turn a ho into a housewife and you can't turn a horny single guy into husband material overnight. It's not meant for us...he and I are not a "we"...we're too independent, we're too jealous, we're too fucked in the head. We are not right. How could we ever trust each other and build a foundation for a loving relationship on what began as loose morals, lies, betrayal and hedonism?
I tell myself to stay away from him.
If he contacts me, I should rebuke him.
I starve for attention, I pine for a new touch...I hunger for something real.
He texts me randomly on Sunday while I'm Christmas shopping with my mom and my sister. I feel my cheeks flame up with excitement, embarrassment, shame and delight.
Edgar: happy b day
me: Nice try. It's on Tuesday.
Edgar: At least I am early.
me: True. You beat everyone else. Know what I want for my bday/Christmas?
Edgar: What???
me: You, me, a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue and my bed. Make yourself available the night of the 26th and it'll happen.
Edgar: Wow...
me: I figured I've never gotten you anything for Christmas...you down?
Edgar: It's what I wanted.
me: Alright, let's call each other then. See you on the 26th.
Edgar: Yes.
I put my phone away and instantly feel sea sick. This is what a junkie must feel like...a drug addict always looking for a bigger score, a bigger high...falling deeper and deeper into destruction.
The desire to sleep with him again is irresistible. It's so, so, so bad....and that's what makes it so intoxicating. Having the forbidden...the more I know it's wrong the more appealing it is.
We come home and I accidentally slam my hand into my mouth, causing my bottom lip to bleed. Dan jokes it's because I must have done something wrong.
If only he knew what I was planning.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
mistakes that you do mean.....
I thought I could stop, erase this stupid journal and move on...but I can't.
Distraction is key: Dan and I had a housewarming party...our main focus was to keep our friends happy and the alcohol flowing...nobody stayed past midnight...I was miserably sick and exhausted by the end. The party was a bust and we had tons of leftover alcohol...well, that might be a plus.
There are no cute pictures of he and I posing in the new place...he made drinks and I played Beatles Rockband. I don't think I ever want to have a party in that stupid apartment again.
November was especially hard, what with the Thanksgiving holiday reminding me of how I no longer want Danny to be a part of my family nor I a part of his.
I was so relieved when he suggested we drive over to our respective parents' homes on Wednesday night...I couldn't wait to just leave him at his parents house and go back to my family in Whittier. It felt comforting...I felt at peace. I felt free!!
I fought the urge to text Edgar...I wanted to prove to myself that he was no good and just in it for the blow jobs...I secretly hoped there'd be more distractions for me....
No distractions came. Friday night after turkey, I muster the courage/vile intentions and text Edgar. Short and sweet:
me: I'm in Whittier right now. I want to see you tomorrow night for coffee. Let's call it an exercise in restraint.
I stuff the phone back in my pocket and try to concentrate on anything else...the T.V., checking my e-mail, hearing the sound of my family talk...distract me, please!
My phone chirps. I gulp. I know it's him.
Edgar: Sure, can't wait.
My head throbs, my heart slams in my chest...my stomach churns in anticipation and a little horror...we hammer out the details. Tomorrow night, 10 pm.
The next day I have to wake up at 8 am in order to meet up with Dan at his parents house...his co-worker Jon has agreed to take us to Reseda so he and Dan can find extra work at a Christmas tree lot and also squeeze in a trip to the bank and pay our rent. Problem is: his friend was not able to give us a ride due to a misunderstanding with dear ol' Dan.
I am stuck having to drive Dan back out to Reseda, eat crappy McDonald's food for breakfast, force to sit through a bank rep try to convince me to get a new credit card (I refuse) and take a $447.50 chunk out of my bank account.
And in the end, they had no work for Dan or Jon. We went out there for nothing. We can't even pay the rent because the landlord is on vacation till Monday. Oh joy! I spend the rest of the morning shuttling Dan between our apartment and Fry's. He tries to return some computer junk and we end making two trips because he forgot some pieces that came with it. I am annoyed but try not to show. My mind keeps wandering to what Edgar will look like...what will he smell like? Will he be cool about it? Why am I not done with him? WHY THE FUCK DID I START THIS SHIT WITH HIM AGAIN?!?
I decide on the long commute back to Whittier that I won't cancel on Edgar. I drop off Dan at his parents house and tell him I'll see him tomorrow Sunday. My nerves are on edge but I've perfected the calm and cool vibe.
It seems like the hours crawl until 10 pm. But eventually it's 9:40 pm and I'm starting to get ready...makeup, hair, earrings, cute top that shows off my cleavage (is it bad I had Dan pick it out, unbeknown to him?)...I fire a text telling Ed to meet me at the Starbucks nearby at 10 sharp. Seconds later...
Edgar: Wow, precise
I smile to myself. I see nothing's changed.
Of course I arrive at Starbucks early...I'm there by 9:59, looking for any sort of distraction. I sit under the hot lights of the coffee shop and dig through my bag, hoping there's something in there I can read or scribble on...I find my planner and start filling in random events, deadlines, etc. I glance up hoping he'll be in soon but nothing...a few couples sit near me: a couple of Mexican 20-somethings talk about nothing in particular...a geriatric white couple read their respective books, with the woman promptly falling asleep leaving her husband to try and snap a picture of her on his phone. I smile. Can they tell what I am about to do? Can they tell I'm a dirty, no-good, rotten scumbag cheater?
I feel hot. I imagine everyone there, including the baristas, are staring at me with scorn. I take my scarf off, my jacket too. I adjust my blouse and fiddle with the beautiful Coach wallet Dan gave me last year. My heart slams to a stop when I hear, "Hey there!" and see Ed standing there in front of me, dressed in a dark gray button up shirt and jeans....he's grown a goatee and wears black long sleeve thermals under his shirt. He looks so fucking hot. "Hi!" I squeak. We sit down and talk for a few minutes, never bothering to buy a cup of coffee.
"How's married life?" he asks. I blush and insist that I am not married. He knows, I know...things are not good. Life is not good. Or else, we wouldn't be here. I ask him if he wants to get out of here, he suggests we go grab a beer and the race is on.
We wind up shuffling off to The 6740, a little pub in Uptown Whittier. He asks me what I want and upon discovering they serve no hard alcohol (I really don't drink beer), I concede and ask for a Newcastle...he decides on a Stella Artois...the bartender waits on payment, Ed asks if I have any cash on me...I visibly roll my eyes and grab my ATM card...it was loud in the bar, I have no idea if he asked that I spot him on his end of the tab or go Dutch...nonetheless, I am not pleased and fork over 13 bucks plus 2 for tip. Yeah, I paid for both of our drinks and promptly asked the nerdy hipster bartender to close the tab out. I feel cheap. Serves me right.
We grab a table by the door and chat each other up. No awkward pauses the whole night...he downs his Stella and I struggle with my Newcastle...I really, really don't like beer. But it helps me keep a smile on my face as I look into his deep brown eyes. I forget it all and concentrate on my posture, adjusting my cleavage and flirting...this is the shit you forget to do when you're in a steady relationship. My single girl tendencies return. We laugh together and boy does it feel good. We high-five every time we both agree on something or find a thing in common...I giggle loudly and claim my praise for this bar because they keep playing Smiths song...he smiles so sweetly, under that black beard of his...he looks like I'd imagine Cortez did. He, fair skinned with a dark goatee...and me, his dark-skinned Malinali...yes, I am the back-stabber, disloyal betrayer. I am his Malinche.
We stay there drinking our beers until the staff kicks us out at midnight...we stumble into the cold Whittier air and make our way to his warm car. I love the feel of being in his car....his trusty two-door white Solara, it's like I never left. I remember all the times I've pleasured him in the front seat and the time we had sex in the backseat. I can't wipe the perverted grin off my face.
He takes me on his usual tour of Downtown Los Angeles...it's amusing to hear him be my tour guide, interlacing his commentary with blush-worthy compliments about my personality and anatomy. L.A. history is one of his passions. We race past the US Bank and City Hall, the buildings of the L.A. city skyline dotted with cute red and green Christmas lights. We hold hands as he speed along the 101 freeway, stopping only to mutter a cuss word or two at bad motorists who cut him off. I don't want to leave him.
He lets me pick the music off his iPod. I ask if he has any Peter Murphy and sure enough he has my favorite song: "Cuts You Up." This is enough to make me want to devour him. We listen to "Modern Man" by Bad Religion, he can't contain his approval of my selection...we then discuss the severity of the situation. We aren't the first to cheat and we won't be the last...but in our story, there is no happily ever after. I tell him my resignation, he insists I try to get out of the lease and become single again. "For what?" I ponder secretly in my head, "It's not like you'll be salvation when I get out."
We stop at the Ralphs in Monterey Park so we can use the restroom. I shiver. I am only a mere distance from Dan's family's house. Is he sleeping? Is he wondering how I am?
At the end of the night, we have solved nothing. I can't get out of my lease until the summer and Ed won't commit to a real relationship. He plans on attending law school in the fall...I vow to return to Whittier and break things off with Dan. I need to be single and stop lying. I can't keep cheating. All of this seems like galaxies away...
Eventually, we park on Bexley in Whittier, behind Sorensen Park. Our usual spot (and at one time, my usual with Dan) for clandestine encounters...he puts the car in park and reaches for my hand, "So much for the exercise in restraint." I agree and we kiss. And kiss. And kiss. He murmurs in my ear, "You smell so good." A pang of excitement warms my body. I kiss his neck, his face, his shoulder blade. Off come the top layers of clothing. Then comes the underwear and bra. He fastens his mouth on my breasts, I reach for his cock. I trace my tongue across his right ear, he rubs my aching pussy through my jeans. Pretty soon I'm sucking him off while "Fascination Street" by the Cure softly plays in the background. His phone rings but I don't stop and he doesn't answer. A few seconds later, he breathlessly sighs, "Now" and I feel him come in my mouth.
After we straighten up and take a few breaths, we talk some more...again, getting really nowhere except further into the seriousness of our situation. He says he won't be a good boyfriend, he's too jealous...I reply that I can't be a good girlfriend since obviously I'm not trust-worthy...the only conclusion we can come to is that, despite how fucked we both really are, this is the best relationship either one of us have ever really had. It's because we only focus on the fun, none of the real heavy stuff that makes people fight and stray away.
He kisses me longingly as we say goodnight. Next time, next time...I will fuck him...because I feel like a drug addict, always trying to get to a bigger and bigger high. I don't know why we chase each other around so much only to lose each other again and again for months at a time.
I come back to real life. I sleep, I eat, I talk, I drive around...I see Dan and it's like I'm sleepwalking until the next time I see Ed. LIAR LIAR LIAR my head pounds as I eat dinner with Dan. He's a really good cook, that Daniel. Why did I have to be this way and why can't I stop?
Distraction is key: Dan and I had a housewarming party...our main focus was to keep our friends happy and the alcohol flowing...nobody stayed past midnight...I was miserably sick and exhausted by the end. The party was a bust and we had tons of leftover alcohol...well, that might be a plus.
There are no cute pictures of he and I posing in the new place...he made drinks and I played Beatles Rockband. I don't think I ever want to have a party in that stupid apartment again.
November was especially hard, what with the Thanksgiving holiday reminding me of how I no longer want Danny to be a part of my family nor I a part of his.
I was so relieved when he suggested we drive over to our respective parents' homes on Wednesday night...I couldn't wait to just leave him at his parents house and go back to my family in Whittier. It felt comforting...I felt at peace. I felt free!!
I fought the urge to text Edgar...I wanted to prove to myself that he was no good and just in it for the blow jobs...I secretly hoped there'd be more distractions for me....
No distractions came. Friday night after turkey, I muster the courage/vile intentions and text Edgar. Short and sweet:
me: I'm in Whittier right now. I want to see you tomorrow night for coffee. Let's call it an exercise in restraint.
I stuff the phone back in my pocket and try to concentrate on anything else...the T.V., checking my e-mail, hearing the sound of my family talk...distract me, please!
My phone chirps. I gulp. I know it's him.
Edgar: Sure, can't wait.
My head throbs, my heart slams in my chest...my stomach churns in anticipation and a little horror...we hammer out the details. Tomorrow night, 10 pm.
The next day I have to wake up at 8 am in order to meet up with Dan at his parents house...his co-worker Jon has agreed to take us to Reseda so he and Dan can find extra work at a Christmas tree lot and also squeeze in a trip to the bank and pay our rent. Problem is: his friend was not able to give us a ride due to a misunderstanding with dear ol' Dan.
I am stuck having to drive Dan back out to Reseda, eat crappy McDonald's food for breakfast, force to sit through a bank rep try to convince me to get a new credit card (I refuse) and take a $447.50 chunk out of my bank account.
And in the end, they had no work for Dan or Jon. We went out there for nothing. We can't even pay the rent because the landlord is on vacation till Monday. Oh joy! I spend the rest of the morning shuttling Dan between our apartment and Fry's. He tries to return some computer junk and we end making two trips because he forgot some pieces that came with it. I am annoyed but try not to show. My mind keeps wandering to what Edgar will look like...what will he smell like? Will he be cool about it? Why am I not done with him? WHY THE FUCK DID I START THIS SHIT WITH HIM AGAIN?!?
I decide on the long commute back to Whittier that I won't cancel on Edgar. I drop off Dan at his parents house and tell him I'll see him tomorrow Sunday. My nerves are on edge but I've perfected the calm and cool vibe.
It seems like the hours crawl until 10 pm. But eventually it's 9:40 pm and I'm starting to get ready...makeup, hair, earrings, cute top that shows off my cleavage (is it bad I had Dan pick it out, unbeknown to him?)...I fire a text telling Ed to meet me at the Starbucks nearby at 10 sharp. Seconds later...
Edgar: Wow, precise
I smile to myself. I see nothing's changed.
Of course I arrive at Starbucks early...I'm there by 9:59, looking for any sort of distraction. I sit under the hot lights of the coffee shop and dig through my bag, hoping there's something in there I can read or scribble on...I find my planner and start filling in random events, deadlines, etc. I glance up hoping he'll be in soon but nothing...a few couples sit near me: a couple of Mexican 20-somethings talk about nothing in particular...a geriatric white couple read their respective books, with the woman promptly falling asleep leaving her husband to try and snap a picture of her on his phone. I smile. Can they tell what I am about to do? Can they tell I'm a dirty, no-good, rotten scumbag cheater?
I feel hot. I imagine everyone there, including the baristas, are staring at me with scorn. I take my scarf off, my jacket too. I adjust my blouse and fiddle with the beautiful Coach wallet Dan gave me last year. My heart slams to a stop when I hear, "Hey there!" and see Ed standing there in front of me, dressed in a dark gray button up shirt and jeans....he's grown a goatee and wears black long sleeve thermals under his shirt. He looks so fucking hot. "Hi!" I squeak. We sit down and talk for a few minutes, never bothering to buy a cup of coffee.
"How's married life?" he asks. I blush and insist that I am not married. He knows, I know...things are not good. Life is not good. Or else, we wouldn't be here. I ask him if he wants to get out of here, he suggests we go grab a beer and the race is on.
We wind up shuffling off to The 6740, a little pub in Uptown Whittier. He asks me what I want and upon discovering they serve no hard alcohol (I really don't drink beer), I concede and ask for a Newcastle...he decides on a Stella Artois...the bartender waits on payment, Ed asks if I have any cash on me...I visibly roll my eyes and grab my ATM card...it was loud in the bar, I have no idea if he asked that I spot him on his end of the tab or go Dutch...nonetheless, I am not pleased and fork over 13 bucks plus 2 for tip. Yeah, I paid for both of our drinks and promptly asked the nerdy hipster bartender to close the tab out. I feel cheap. Serves me right.
We grab a table by the door and chat each other up. No awkward pauses the whole night...he downs his Stella and I struggle with my Newcastle...I really, really don't like beer. But it helps me keep a smile on my face as I look into his deep brown eyes. I forget it all and concentrate on my posture, adjusting my cleavage and flirting...this is the shit you forget to do when you're in a steady relationship. My single girl tendencies return. We laugh together and boy does it feel good. We high-five every time we both agree on something or find a thing in common...I giggle loudly and claim my praise for this bar because they keep playing Smiths song...he smiles so sweetly, under that black beard of his...he looks like I'd imagine Cortez did. He, fair skinned with a dark goatee...and me, his dark-skinned Malinali...yes, I am the back-stabber, disloyal betrayer. I am his Malinche.
We stay there drinking our beers until the staff kicks us out at midnight...we stumble into the cold Whittier air and make our way to his warm car. I love the feel of being in his car....his trusty two-door white Solara, it's like I never left. I remember all the times I've pleasured him in the front seat and the time we had sex in the backseat. I can't wipe the perverted grin off my face.
He takes me on his usual tour of Downtown Los Angeles...it's amusing to hear him be my tour guide, interlacing his commentary with blush-worthy compliments about my personality and anatomy. L.A. history is one of his passions. We race past the US Bank and City Hall, the buildings of the L.A. city skyline dotted with cute red and green Christmas lights. We hold hands as he speed along the 101 freeway, stopping only to mutter a cuss word or two at bad motorists who cut him off. I don't want to leave him.
He lets me pick the music off his iPod. I ask if he has any Peter Murphy and sure enough he has my favorite song: "Cuts You Up." This is enough to make me want to devour him. We listen to "Modern Man" by Bad Religion, he can't contain his approval of my selection...we then discuss the severity of the situation. We aren't the first to cheat and we won't be the last...but in our story, there is no happily ever after. I tell him my resignation, he insists I try to get out of the lease and become single again. "For what?" I ponder secretly in my head, "It's not like you'll be salvation when I get out."
We stop at the Ralphs in Monterey Park so we can use the restroom. I shiver. I am only a mere distance from Dan's family's house. Is he sleeping? Is he wondering how I am?
At the end of the night, we have solved nothing. I can't get out of my lease until the summer and Ed won't commit to a real relationship. He plans on attending law school in the fall...I vow to return to Whittier and break things off with Dan. I need to be single and stop lying. I can't keep cheating. All of this seems like galaxies away...
Eventually, we park on Bexley in Whittier, behind Sorensen Park. Our usual spot (and at one time, my usual with Dan) for clandestine encounters...he puts the car in park and reaches for my hand, "So much for the exercise in restraint." I agree and we kiss. And kiss. And kiss. He murmurs in my ear, "You smell so good." A pang of excitement warms my body. I kiss his neck, his face, his shoulder blade. Off come the top layers of clothing. Then comes the underwear and bra. He fastens his mouth on my breasts, I reach for his cock. I trace my tongue across his right ear, he rubs my aching pussy through my jeans. Pretty soon I'm sucking him off while "Fascination Street" by the Cure softly plays in the background. His phone rings but I don't stop and he doesn't answer. A few seconds later, he breathlessly sighs, "Now" and I feel him come in my mouth.
After we straighten up and take a few breaths, we talk some more...again, getting really nowhere except further into the seriousness of our situation. He says he won't be a good boyfriend, he's too jealous...I reply that I can't be a good girlfriend since obviously I'm not trust-worthy...the only conclusion we can come to is that, despite how fucked we both really are, this is the best relationship either one of us have ever really had. It's because we only focus on the fun, none of the real heavy stuff that makes people fight and stray away.
He kisses me longingly as we say goodnight. Next time, next time...I will fuck him...because I feel like a drug addict, always trying to get to a bigger and bigger high. I don't know why we chase each other around so much only to lose each other again and again for months at a time.
I come back to real life. I sleep, I eat, I talk, I drive around...I see Dan and it's like I'm sleepwalking until the next time I see Ed. LIAR LIAR LIAR my head pounds as I eat dinner with Dan. He's a really good cook, that Daniel. Why did I have to be this way and why can't I stop?
Friday, October 23, 2009
She's always buzzing just like neon, neon....
I finally told Dan that I was sick and tired of him not helping around with the chores and that I wish I could just go back home...
Yeah, I cried...I felt stupid crying...but you don't know how frustrated I felt having him just laying there, lazy and not wanting to get up...it started first about him not wanting to get up and go do laundry with me...and then it just got out of hand and I started blurting everything out...
It grates my nerves to watch (and hear!) him sleeping in the bedroom when he knows that it's time to go do something...he is forever wasting time...I just can't take anymore of his bullshit...and with each argument, I can just feel the truth struggling to get out of my mouth...I would holler it at him so loud...that I don't want to marry him and I don't want to keep living with him....that when he acts this way, I hate him more than anything.
I told him that I don't have the money to get out of the lease and that I don't think we should have moved in together...I told him the accident was the precise time we should have halted the whole idea and gotten our deposit back.
You could see it visibly registered with him...he was definitely taken aback by it all...and though he suggested we should talk about it (yeah, I agree, waaaay more important than laundry)...I refused...because what's the point? We can't do anything about the lease or anything...not now...we're too far in with all the new furniture, address changes, etc. etc.
Or maybe we're both too complacent. Arguments flare up but they go away quickly as they came...I let it fester and rot...I don't know what he does...but I bet he doesn't spend too much time thinking about it.
My feelings for Dan are so complicated now...they're not as sure and true as they were 2 years ago...I have a great love for him...and I emphasize the HIM part...when he's happy, relaxed and having a good time, he's the best person to be around..he's like a human encyclopedia and is the smartest person around....I feed off his enthusiasm and his humor...he's the funniest person I know and he can make me laugh at anything...he likes hockey and baseball and has great taste in music....plus, he's by far the best sexual partner I've ever had....that's the HIM, the real Danny I know and love from when we were in high school and college.
I don't like the other guy he is...the guy he is most days...the OTHER...he's cranky, irritable, condescending, rude and ill-tempered...he acts like a big baby, refuses to do what he's told, won't listen and is a smart mouthed asshole...he makes you feel bad about things you like and he is LAZY...he falls asleep on you wherever you go (on any car ride, at my mom's house, in my grandma's hospital room once!)...ughhh...that's the Danny I hate...and he invaded the sweet boy I once knew that I would never dream of cheating on.
But the OTHER emerged...and all hell broke loose. That's when I started talking to Gabriel oh so many years ago and part of the reason we broke up the first time...(that is an entire entry unto itself)...so good for me on choosing to live with the OTHER.
(sigh sigh)
I spoke with one of my ex-flames...ah yes, Julio.
He's in Korea and we keep in pretty good contact...we exchange messages and keep ourselves up to date on our activities...he always asks if Danny has popped the question or when I'm going to get married...I always laugh it off and give no definite answer.
Julio is a strange specimen...we were classmates in junior high and high school...I had a mega crush on him and even went to a school dance with him as my official "date" whether he knew it or not...anyway...he moved to Texas in high school and lost contact...the moment Paul and I broke it off in college (the first time, so early 2005), Julio tracked me down through (surprise) Facebook and we started "talking."
"Talking" turned to phone calls and dreamy messages, e-mails, video declarations of love...then invitations to visit him in Vegas for his 21st birthday party...along the way, Dan (at the time my jealous ex-boyfriend) tried to piss on our parade by telling Julio I was a person he should "watch out for." It didn't detract my enthusiastic suitor and suddenly I found myself in a Las Vegas hotel room with 3 other people in May of 2005, trying to make sense of this whirlwind visit.
I fucked him proper both times...I blew him on the couch of the hotel suite, thankfully the living room section was separate from the bedroom...I can still remember his O-face...he wore braces at the time...it was kinda funny....the thought of those metal braces and his look of ecstasy crack me up...I remember it fondly.
That same summer I flew to Texas to see him and we fucked some more...Julio was a perfect gentleman...he paid for all my meals, took me to the theater to see a musical...he held my hand and drove me anywhere I wanted to go...here was a guy that could sweep a girl off her feet! But alas, the distance...oh that distance...reality set in and I had to go back to college...summer ended and so did our romance...we talked about plans, marriage, babies...oh I was love-struck...dumb dumb dumb...we had even made it so that it said we were married on Facebook...surprisingly, only Paul ever called me on it.
All good things have to come to an end.
I saw Julio again sometime in January of 2007....I was on again-off again with Alberto (my ex from hell)...we went on a nice platonic date...that's when he told me he suffered from manic depression...needless to say, he and I did not "hook up."
Nowadays, we talk like normal friends...we never bring up the past or all the amazing sex we had...he mentions casually I should come visit him in Korea...I don't think so...but I let him know I'll entertain the idea, even though I hate Asian food:
Julio: lol. Yeah Korean food is not exactly the best food. But its a lot of fun. There are many great things to do here. I mean I been here for almost two years and I cant really say I have not had fun. Its been great.
me: Well, glad to hear it. We'll see how things turn out next year. I would love to pay you a visit...but Texas is waaaaay closer.
No smiley face. Nothing. I hope he gets the idea. I know he's single (for the most part, he mentioned a thing with a Canadian girl that won't pan out)...I want him bad. AGAIN.
Yeah, I cried...I felt stupid crying...but you don't know how frustrated I felt having him just laying there, lazy and not wanting to get up...it started first about him not wanting to get up and go do laundry with me...and then it just got out of hand and I started blurting everything out...
It grates my nerves to watch (and hear!) him sleeping in the bedroom when he knows that it's time to go do something...he is forever wasting time...I just can't take anymore of his bullshit...and with each argument, I can just feel the truth struggling to get out of my mouth...I would holler it at him so loud...that I don't want to marry him and I don't want to keep living with him....that when he acts this way, I hate him more than anything.
I told him that I don't have the money to get out of the lease and that I don't think we should have moved in together...I told him the accident was the precise time we should have halted the whole idea and gotten our deposit back.
You could see it visibly registered with him...he was definitely taken aback by it all...and though he suggested we should talk about it (yeah, I agree, waaaay more important than laundry)...I refused...because what's the point? We can't do anything about the lease or anything...not now...we're too far in with all the new furniture, address changes, etc. etc.
Or maybe we're both too complacent. Arguments flare up but they go away quickly as they came...I let it fester and rot...I don't know what he does...but I bet he doesn't spend too much time thinking about it.
My feelings for Dan are so complicated now...they're not as sure and true as they were 2 years ago...I have a great love for him...and I emphasize the HIM part...when he's happy, relaxed and having a good time, he's the best person to be around..he's like a human encyclopedia and is the smartest person around....I feed off his enthusiasm and his humor...he's the funniest person I know and he can make me laugh at anything...he likes hockey and baseball and has great taste in music....plus, he's by far the best sexual partner I've ever had....that's the HIM, the real Danny I know and love from when we were in high school and college.
I don't like the other guy he is...the guy he is most days...the OTHER...he's cranky, irritable, condescending, rude and ill-tempered...he acts like a big baby, refuses to do what he's told, won't listen and is a smart mouthed asshole...he makes you feel bad about things you like and he is LAZY...he falls asleep on you wherever you go (on any car ride, at my mom's house, in my grandma's hospital room once!)...ughhh...that's the Danny I hate...and he invaded the sweet boy I once knew that I would never dream of cheating on.
But the OTHER emerged...and all hell broke loose. That's when I started talking to Gabriel oh so many years ago and part of the reason we broke up the first time...(that is an entire entry unto itself)...so good for me on choosing to live with the OTHER.
(sigh sigh)
I spoke with one of my ex-flames...ah yes, Julio.
He's in Korea and we keep in pretty good contact...we exchange messages and keep ourselves up to date on our activities...he always asks if Danny has popped the question or when I'm going to get married...I always laugh it off and give no definite answer.
Julio is a strange specimen...we were classmates in junior high and high school...I had a mega crush on him and even went to a school dance with him as my official "date" whether he knew it or not...anyway...he moved to Texas in high school and lost contact...the moment Paul and I broke it off in college (the first time, so early 2005), Julio tracked me down through (surprise) Facebook and we started "talking."
"Talking" turned to phone calls and dreamy messages, e-mails, video declarations of love...then invitations to visit him in Vegas for his 21st birthday party...along the way, Dan (at the time my jealous ex-boyfriend) tried to piss on our parade by telling Julio I was a person he should "watch out for." It didn't detract my enthusiastic suitor and suddenly I found myself in a Las Vegas hotel room with 3 other people in May of 2005, trying to make sense of this whirlwind visit.
I fucked him proper both times...I blew him on the couch of the hotel suite, thankfully the living room section was separate from the bedroom...I can still remember his O-face...he wore braces at the time...it was kinda funny....the thought of those metal braces and his look of ecstasy crack me up...I remember it fondly.
That same summer I flew to Texas to see him and we fucked some more...Julio was a perfect gentleman...he paid for all my meals, took me to the theater to see a musical...he held my hand and drove me anywhere I wanted to go...here was a guy that could sweep a girl off her feet! But alas, the distance...oh that distance...reality set in and I had to go back to college...summer ended and so did our romance...we talked about plans, marriage, babies...oh I was love-struck...dumb dumb dumb...we had even made it so that it said we were married on Facebook...surprisingly, only Paul ever called me on it.
All good things have to come to an end.
I saw Julio again sometime in January of 2007....I was on again-off again with Alberto (my ex from hell)...we went on a nice platonic date...that's when he told me he suffered from manic depression...needless to say, he and I did not "hook up."
Nowadays, we talk like normal friends...we never bring up the past or all the amazing sex we had...he mentions casually I should come visit him in Korea...I don't think so...but I let him know I'll entertain the idea, even though I hate Asian food:
Julio: lol. Yeah Korean food is not exactly the best food. But its a lot of fun. There are many great things to do here. I mean I been here for almost two years and I cant really say I have not had fun. Its been great.
me: Well, glad to hear it. We'll see how things turn out next year. I would love to pay you a visit...but Texas is waaaaay closer.
No smiley face. Nothing. I hope he gets the idea. I know he's single (for the most part, he mentioned a thing with a Canadian girl that won't pan out)...I want him bad. AGAIN.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
"They will not force us, they will stop degrading us..."
I don't understand why Dan feels the need to nag me about breadcrumbs in the cream cheese when he's the biggest slob of them all. His side of the room is forever covered in clothes, wet towels, blankets, empty cans and random junk...
Having rotting trash in the kitchen and crusty dirty dishes are fine in his world but breadcrumbs in the cream cheese are just NOT acceptable. I have to step in EVERY DAY to make sure his careless behavior doesn't turn into full blown messes. I shudder to think what our apartment would look like if I didn't clean up after him...
You can't ask him to clean a damn thing because he just rolls his eyes and says "no" or "I'll do it later"...
He also blew a gasket the other day because I used the same knife to spread mayo and mustard...he berated me until I got a separate knife. But throwing his dirty clothes everywhere except the hamper, TOTALLY OKAY.
Ughhhh.
Paul and I had our first text message conversation in months...he got a new cell number (which of course he never told me about, I had to find out through Facebook like the stalker that I am)...
I wish Paul had wanted to keep me. I wish he had been more committed...I wish he had loved me more...
Part of me fantasizes wildly that he'll eventually come around one day and find me...he'll chase me all the way back to L.A. and ask me to marry him...he'll say he's sorry for letting me go and promise to never leave my side.
"I can't live without you."
But I know it won't happen.
Having rotting trash in the kitchen and crusty dirty dishes are fine in his world but breadcrumbs in the cream cheese are just NOT acceptable. I have to step in EVERY DAY to make sure his careless behavior doesn't turn into full blown messes. I shudder to think what our apartment would look like if I didn't clean up after him...
You can't ask him to clean a damn thing because he just rolls his eyes and says "no" or "I'll do it later"...
He also blew a gasket the other day because I used the same knife to spread mayo and mustard...he berated me until I got a separate knife. But throwing his dirty clothes everywhere except the hamper, TOTALLY OKAY.
Ughhhh.
Paul and I had our first text message conversation in months...he got a new cell number (which of course he never told me about, I had to find out through Facebook like the stalker that I am)...
I wish Paul had wanted to keep me. I wish he had been more committed...I wish he had loved me more...
Part of me fantasizes wildly that he'll eventually come around one day and find me...he'll chase me all the way back to L.A. and ask me to marry him...he'll say he's sorry for letting me go and promise to never leave my side.
"I can't live without you."
But I know it won't happen.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Kauai or Oahu, Molokai or Lanai, Maui and the Big Guy
Edgar took a vacation to Hawaii...so you can also add "MySpace Creeper" to my list of pathetic hobbies:
I would give anything to be there with him...not to form a relationship, not to talk about feelings....just go to the beach all day and fuck all night...that's all I'd want.
The scenario that I've been putting in my head to help me fall asleep now involves me showing up on the beach there in Hawaii (70 lbs. lighter of course) in a hot little black bikini and casually walking by his lounge chair...he'll instantly recognize me and say my name...I'll slowly turn around, peer over my dark sunglasses and smile..."Hey there!" I'll remark...and well....you can imagine what would transpire hours later...maybe a fireside dinner of pork and tropical (alcoholic) drinks...a stroll on the sandy shore...moonlight...dancing at a random club...steamy flirtation...and then...well, I'd imagine it would all end at his hotel room...peeling off sweaty clothes...and fucking until the break of dawn...I can see it all so clearly in my head...the white marble floors of the hotel suite...soft, satin bed sheets covered in the smell of his cologne...the familiar hum of the A/C...and as I look out the balcony of this gorgeous fictional hotel, I see the waves breaking on the beach...the sound of the waves receding...so comforting, so soothing...his soft, rhythmic breathing...he'd never snore so loudly and look as disgusting as Dan.
WAKE UP, I have to tell myself, WAKE THE FUCK UP!
Last night, Dan and I had an argument about keeping the windows open at night...he refused to let me have the window open even a crack...yes, it's cold outside but it is fucking blazing hot inside because he refuses to even have the windows open during the day...I just hate that he decides when the temperature is pleasant...he wouldn't let me run the A/C even on the hottest days of the summer.
I hate him and he will never be as good as my fantasies...and sadly, neither will I.
I would give anything to be there with him...not to form a relationship, not to talk about feelings....just go to the beach all day and fuck all night...that's all I'd want.
The scenario that I've been putting in my head to help me fall asleep now involves me showing up on the beach there in Hawaii (70 lbs. lighter of course) in a hot little black bikini and casually walking by his lounge chair...he'll instantly recognize me and say my name...I'll slowly turn around, peer over my dark sunglasses and smile..."Hey there!" I'll remark...and well....you can imagine what would transpire hours later...maybe a fireside dinner of pork and tropical (alcoholic) drinks...a stroll on the sandy shore...moonlight...dancing at a random club...steamy flirtation...and then...well, I'd imagine it would all end at his hotel room...peeling off sweaty clothes...and fucking until the break of dawn...I can see it all so clearly in my head...the white marble floors of the hotel suite...soft, satin bed sheets covered in the smell of his cologne...the familiar hum of the A/C...and as I look out the balcony of this gorgeous fictional hotel, I see the waves breaking on the beach...the sound of the waves receding...so comforting, so soothing...his soft, rhythmic breathing...he'd never snore so loudly and look as disgusting as Dan.
WAKE UP, I have to tell myself, WAKE THE FUCK UP!
Last night, Dan and I had an argument about keeping the windows open at night...he refused to let me have the window open even a crack...yes, it's cold outside but it is fucking blazing hot inside because he refuses to even have the windows open during the day...I just hate that he decides when the temperature is pleasant...he wouldn't let me run the A/C even on the hottest days of the summer.
I hate him and he will never be as good as my fantasies...and sadly, neither will I.
Monday, October 12, 2009
"I want the one I can't have....."
"And it's driving me mad...."
I found this picture on Facebook of Anthony with his uniform on and his military haircut...he looks adorable:
Yeah, I'm a total Facebook creeper now...full blown....
Here he is at the Marine Corps ball or whatever...this is where he said he took his new girlfriend as his date:
"It's written all over my face..."
She posted pictures of them together at Knotts Scary Farm...they looks so happy together...it's nice to see him smiling...I used to smile like that with Dan...now he won't even kiss me in public to our "supposed" song...
I see her and I see what could have been if I had just taken better care of myself, not ate so much junk food, exercised more and just...tried harder to be attractive...I feel and look fat...I used to be the girl that guys noticed...but not anymore...I seldom get checked out anymore and when I do, it's by creeps...
Dan and I went to a friends birthday celebration at this club in Downtown...getting Dan to dance is like pulling teeth, so I was happy he didn't refuse when the girls and I hit the dance floor...it was nice to get all dressed up, but I nearly died wearing high heels all night...it's the only way I can get my legs to look long and lean...my weight is fucking disgusting, so my feet got tired quickly...I could barely walk by the end of the night...never mind that I was bloated and on my period the entire time...I felt like a whale...a fat, uncoordinated whale...
When I used to go to clubs, guys would come up and just dance with me...going to a club with Dan pretty much stopped any cute guys from even looking at me...the only attention I got that night was walking around by myself near the bar trying to track down the rest of our party...some guy reached out and grabbed my hand...I was so distracted and taken aback, that I didn't even look backwards to see what he looked like...I hope he was at least cute.
I want to drop 70 lbs. If I ever do, watch out world...I'll reclaim my old life back.
I found this picture on Facebook of Anthony with his uniform on and his military haircut...he looks adorable:
Yeah, I'm a total Facebook creeper now...full blown....
Here he is at the Marine Corps ball or whatever...this is where he said he took his new girlfriend as his date:
"It's written all over my face..."
She posted pictures of them together at Knotts Scary Farm...they looks so happy together...it's nice to see him smiling...I used to smile like that with Dan...now he won't even kiss me in public to our "supposed" song...
I see her and I see what could have been if I had just taken better care of myself, not ate so much junk food, exercised more and just...tried harder to be attractive...I feel and look fat...I used to be the girl that guys noticed...but not anymore...I seldom get checked out anymore and when I do, it's by creeps...
Dan and I went to a friends birthday celebration at this club in Downtown...getting Dan to dance is like pulling teeth, so I was happy he didn't refuse when the girls and I hit the dance floor...it was nice to get all dressed up, but I nearly died wearing high heels all night...it's the only way I can get my legs to look long and lean...my weight is fucking disgusting, so my feet got tired quickly...I could barely walk by the end of the night...never mind that I was bloated and on my period the entire time...I felt like a whale...a fat, uncoordinated whale...
When I used to go to clubs, guys would come up and just dance with me...going to a club with Dan pretty much stopped any cute guys from even looking at me...the only attention I got that night was walking around by myself near the bar trying to track down the rest of our party...some guy reached out and grabbed my hand...I was so distracted and taken aback, that I didn't even look backwards to see what he looked like...I hope he was at least cute.
I want to drop 70 lbs. If I ever do, watch out world...I'll reclaim my old life back.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Love Like Winter
Life is plodding along. I'm glad it's already October and the heat is gone...nothing but cold, cloudy mornings and hazy sunshine in the afternoon....the nights are bearable and I sleep better now.
But as life plods on, living with Dan continues to be insufferable.
He yells at me all the time about the stupidest shit...he always has to be right and he doesn't like to share with me...I'm starting to understand little by little why I cheat on him...it gives me a secret feeling of smug satisfaction that I did something that would potentially break his heart...so every time he says something condescending or talks down to me, I remember that not too long ago I had another man's cock rammed down my throat.
At the time of the accident, I should have broken up with him....I should said NO WE ARE NOT MOVING IN TOGETHER, gotten our money back from the landlord and told him about Edgar...I should have broken up with Dan then and there and moved on with my horrible life.
But no, instead I let it all fester and rot inside of me, I forced this "happy" situation to happen and now I'm paying for it (literally) out of my pocket and with my sanity.
When Dan snaps at me or refuses to take out the trash, I just want to scream at him and tell him about all the dirty things I've done behind his back. But I can't...I'm chained to this 1 year lease.
It's like I'm living with a big baby sometimes. All he ever wants to do is hog the computer, criticize the shows I watch and make a mess. He leaves beer bottles all over the apartment, his side of the room is a total pigsty and he never washes any of the dishes, which we agreed is fine if he cooks dinner but come on, you ate cereal out of that bowl, wash it dammit!
And you can't tell him anything...because he immediately says I'm nagging or ignores me on purpose because he knows that pisses me off.
I also believe living with Dan and living with this soul-numbing guilt is punishment enough for all I've done...all the evil I perpetrated...for turning my back on God and deciding that I wanted to live with a man who I am not married to and not attending church, for disappointing my mom and grandma by moving out, for cheating on my unsuspecting boyfriend and lying about it...for all these things and more, I am condemned to this life.
How can I even begin to tell Dan that no I don't want to marry him, ever...that I don't want to have his kids...that I don't see this relationship going anywhere...how?
Eventually, I will have to stop being a coward and just say it. And end this.
*****
On a related note, I find it uncanny that I can still have sex with Dan and not feel bad about it. I must admit, he's got skills. I think selfishly, that's one of the top reasons we're still together.
I do get bored of sleeping with the same guy for more than 2 years now (4 if you count all the years before)...so I often fantasize about past conquests and made up ones.
Like today, for example, I had a hot little day dream about sleeping with my company's Fed Ex rep. He's a nice guy, married with a wife and kids...I bet he has a cute little house somewhere in the Valley or something...a dog, a cat, a white picket fence, two car garage and the kids all go to parochial school...I bet he has a nice suburban life and enjoy all kinds of vanilla sex with his tight little wife (which I can only imagine must be nice, sunny and blond) and doesn't have a care in the whole world.
But in my fantasy, I wreck it all. I make him have sex with me all over his lush, Berber carpet...I rip his clothes off, his tie, collared shirt and slacks...all of it off and consume him quickly.
(siiiiiiiigh)
But as life plods on, living with Dan continues to be insufferable.
He yells at me all the time about the stupidest shit...he always has to be right and he doesn't like to share with me...I'm starting to understand little by little why I cheat on him...it gives me a secret feeling of smug satisfaction that I did something that would potentially break his heart...so every time he says something condescending or talks down to me, I remember that not too long ago I had another man's cock rammed down my throat.
At the time of the accident, I should have broken up with him....I should said NO WE ARE NOT MOVING IN TOGETHER, gotten our money back from the landlord and told him about Edgar...I should have broken up with Dan then and there and moved on with my horrible life.
But no, instead I let it all fester and rot inside of me, I forced this "happy" situation to happen and now I'm paying for it (literally) out of my pocket and with my sanity.
When Dan snaps at me or refuses to take out the trash, I just want to scream at him and tell him about all the dirty things I've done behind his back. But I can't...I'm chained to this 1 year lease.
It's like I'm living with a big baby sometimes. All he ever wants to do is hog the computer, criticize the shows I watch and make a mess. He leaves beer bottles all over the apartment, his side of the room is a total pigsty and he never washes any of the dishes, which we agreed is fine if he cooks dinner but come on, you ate cereal out of that bowl, wash it dammit!
And you can't tell him anything...because he immediately says I'm nagging or ignores me on purpose because he knows that pisses me off.
I also believe living with Dan and living with this soul-numbing guilt is punishment enough for all I've done...all the evil I perpetrated...for turning my back on God and deciding that I wanted to live with a man who I am not married to and not attending church, for disappointing my mom and grandma by moving out, for cheating on my unsuspecting boyfriend and lying about it...for all these things and more, I am condemned to this life.
How can I even begin to tell Dan that no I don't want to marry him, ever...that I don't want to have his kids...that I don't see this relationship going anywhere...how?
Eventually, I will have to stop being a coward and just say it. And end this.
*****
On a related note, I find it uncanny that I can still have sex with Dan and not feel bad about it. I must admit, he's got skills. I think selfishly, that's one of the top reasons we're still together.
I do get bored of sleeping with the same guy for more than 2 years now (4 if you count all the years before)...so I often fantasize about past conquests and made up ones.
Like today, for example, I had a hot little day dream about sleeping with my company's Fed Ex rep. He's a nice guy, married with a wife and kids...I bet he has a cute little house somewhere in the Valley or something...a dog, a cat, a white picket fence, two car garage and the kids all go to parochial school...I bet he has a nice suburban life and enjoy all kinds of vanilla sex with his tight little wife (which I can only imagine must be nice, sunny and blond) and doesn't have a care in the whole world.
But in my fantasy, I wreck it all. I make him have sex with me all over his lush, Berber carpet...I rip his clothes off, his tie, collared shirt and slacks...all of it off and consume him quickly.
(siiiiiiiigh)
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