Tag Archives: separation

Saying no to one of the best sex partners I’ve had

18 Dec

I had sex for the first time almost a year after my divorce, two years after the separation.  Lollypop Guy became a fuck buddy who surfaces every now and then for one or two encounters, and then fades away.  We have crazy chemistry.  When we get together, there’s so much passion, so much desire.  I haven’t felt like this with any other man after him.  We get along pretty well, but we don’t have much in common, other than our mutual enjoyment of each other.  That’s why we both know that we will stay fuck buddies and nothing more.

The last time Lollypop Guy and I were together was about five months ago.  Last week, out of the blue, he started texting again.  I, not really knowing if I wanted to see him this time, ignored his texts.  He called the day before yesterday.  We had a nice, friendly conversation.  Got up to speed with each other, and then he mentioned that he was seeing someone.  That gave me pause, but his voice is so enticing, and you could hear the desire in it.  I let him believe that I would see him later in the week.  I needed time to think and make up my mind as to what to do.

I’ve been alone pretty much since Pilot Guy.  Aside from a brief and not noteworthy encounter with Six Kids Guy, I haven’t had sex in quite a while.  I’ve also been talking to a new guy from the dating site, but we haven’t met in person and I’m not sure it’s going to work.  Sailor Guy has his own set of issues.  All in all, I’m pretty lonely and sad, so a good fuck with a hot guy would actually be a great temptation.

Lollypop Guy is quite hot.  So what if he is dating someone?  They both live pretty far from where I live.  I’m sure we don’t know each other.  We don’t run in the same circles.  Most likely she will never find out.  Besides, he has been My fuck buddy for the past three years.  I have precedence.  And I’m so lonely… and he does me like no one else has ever done me.

I had to say no.  I couldn’t live with the knowledge that I did to someone else the exact same thing that hurt me so much.  I know I could have rationalized the shit out of having sex with Lollypop Guy.  I may have inadvertently had sex with him while he was dating someone else before.  But this time I knew.  There was no way of unknowing the fact.  The biggest thing is that, no matter how great the sex is, I want to do it with someone who will also choose to be with me.  Why the fuck do I have to give this guy the best sex he’s had in a long time (his words) when he does not, and will not, choose me?

We talked on the phone this morning.  He wants me because he hasn’t found anybody who does him quite the way I do, not even the girl he’s dating now.  I almost fell for his bullshit.  Just now he texted:  “I was honest with you.  I deserve at least one last time as a goodbye.”  My answer?  There’s no need for goodbyes.


A message to Marc Anthony and Tito El Bambino: shut the f#ck up!

4 Dec

Don’t you guys hate it when you wake up in the morning with a song stuck in your brain, and you can’t get it out?  It happened to me yesterday.  The worst part is that it is a song that I truly hate with all my heart.  It is about a cheating man who wants to justify his scumbag cheating ways while shamefacedly blaming the ex.  Catchy, right?

  Listen to this at your own risk.  Mark has a great voice, but he’s unbearable.  Tito’s voice is unbearable.

Here are the lyrics (commentary by a woman who tried to be the best wife she could, and still was cheated on):

That one that you usually insult
(maybe because she brought it on to herself)

 knew how to give me more than you
(men-stealing-whores always seem to be giving more)

who were my woman

and even though you call her by another name
(oh, dear, I have more than just another name for her)

I’m her man
(whoa, what a prize she got herself!)

and today she’s my woman
(and very deserving she is)

Why do you lie to them

and sell yourself as the innocent victim
(Uh, maybe because I need to vent, and most reasonable people can see you exactly for what you are.)

 knowing you treated me

like shit in front of others

while I didn’t do that to you
(This could be a perspective kind of thing.  It could have been worked out in therapy before you decided to move on to the next.)

Ugh, the song goes on, but I just can’t stand it anymore.  I hate that it is a “hit” in local radio.  I hate that it is sung by Mark Anthony, a known serial cheater and Tito El Bambino, a guy I can’t consider either a singer, nor an artist.  I especially hate that they justify the cheating, pin the blame solely on her and shame her for choosing to talk about it.

I know no two relationships are the same and not every relationship is salvageable, but every person in a relationship deserves honesty.  Before you go looking  for what you are missing in a relationship somewhere else, why don’t you look for ways of fixing it?  If there is no fixing it, why don’t you end it before starting something else?

I think it’s a thing of common sense and common courtesy.  Nowadays there is so much selfishness that it’s hard to expect these things from most people.

I belong to the ones that believe this.

I belong to the ones that believe this.

To my new friend Ido

12 Aug

Well, guys, I had a breakthrough, and I don’t necessarily love it.  Two days ago I started a journey that has proven to be incredibly surprising.  Turns out that my new friend Ido, a follower of this blog and a blogger I myself follow, published a self-awareness online workshop and invited his followers to try it out.  Off I went to his website to begin yet another project of introspection.

The interactive workshop begins in a very whimsical, almost nonsensical, way.  Once you start it, it kind of draws you in, and you start wondering what will happen next.   What did happen next was that I, inadvertently, wrote a sentence that filled me with dread.

The purpose of the assignment was to make me aware of the fact that I have to look to the inside when I face a situation that prompts me to be angry or changes my mood and the way I interact with the world.  The assignment required me to write about who and what I blame for my unhappiness.  Can you guess where this is going?

I started blaming my ex-husband for leaving me, for not keeping his promise, for making me feel undesirable.  Then came the sentence:  I blame M for taking away his love, for being what I can’t be right now.  What the FUCK?!!!  Excuse my french, but I can’t be that fucked up!

I don’t have any witty insight on this one.  It is just bewildering, and I only hope that finishing this workshop will give me some tools to continue working through this.

To my friend Ido, I have to say thank you for the opportunity of doing this.  I know that, after this initial shock wears off, I will see the benefit of completing it.  Please excuse me if my reaction seems a little dramatic, I had a glass of whine (ha!) while I was writing.

On the pitfalls of being a hoarder

6 Aug

It’s funny how life arranges things in a way that makes you face whatever it is that you are trying to push away.  In a previous post I mentioned a great truth uttered by a dear friend.  He said that my continuous search for the reasons why I have been dumped by certain guys is just a reflection of my still wanting to know exactly why my ex-husband left me.

After 2 1/2 years of separation, extensive therapy, and several other men in my life, I would have thought that the answer to that question was not important anymore.  At the time when he informed me of his decision to leave, I did not understand the reasons he gave me.  I was too wrapped up in my pain and disbelief.  After a while, I think I stopped listening to whatever he said and started making up my own alternate reality.

I had always been a “till death do us part” kind of woman.  There was no other possibility for me but to be married to him for the rest of my life.  I saw my own parent’s marriage and thought that if they had made it through, we certainly could.  I mean, after ten years of marriage, I still felt butterflies in my stomach when I thought of him.  I idolized him.  In my eyes, he could do no wrong.

When he informed me of his decision to leave, he was cold and unemotional.  I never saw a tear or a glint of doubt in his eyes.  However, I wanted it all to be a nightmare so much, that I kept thinking that he would come back.  He said that he didn’t love me anymore.  I was sure that he did.  He said that he could not even think of trying anymore.  I could swear that this could be the one time when it all would work out.  He said that he didn’t trust that I could change what he wanted me to change.  I changed everything about me expecting him to notice, and he never did.

All that therapy helped me to accept that maybe I would never get an answer to my question.  I learned to start seeing the best of my new situation:  I was a young, professional woman, with an extended family supporting me, with a great job, a good apartment, and an incredibly brilliant and witty daughter.  Starting life all over would be difficult, but I was already equipped for it.  So, I started to appreciate my new life.  I learned to love being single.  I realized that I have complete control over my life, and that was thrilling.  I occupied both closets in my bedroom and felt like everything was in place in my life.

Well, the thing is that that “everything was in place” was more figurative than literal.  I have always been kind of messy.  I even have a dresser drawer where I put important papers, postcards, and every bit of odds and ends that I think I need to keep.  It is my hoarder drawer.  Yesterday I had to go through it looking for a document that I need for my daughter’s vaccination, to which I have to go tomorrow.  Riffling through payment stubs, birth certificates, college transcripts, and old student’s handmade cards, I found the letter.  It was a letter he wrote to let me know he was leaving me.  I had kept it all this time, I have no idea why.  Immediately I thought of my question.  I thought that the answer was there, in that paper, and that maybe now that my head was clearer, I could understand.

I debated whether I should read it again and relive that painful moment.  I considered if it was important now when I know I wouldn’t want him back even if he begged.  I thought of him being married already.  I thought of myself and the excitement that I feel when I think of all the possibilities that lay ahead of me, and I realized that my question has been the wrong one all this time.

I may never get a satisfying answer to the question of why he left me.  Maybe he doesn’t even know, but I need to put it to rest.  Whatever the reason why, the fact is that what’s done is done.  He moved on with his life, and I am moving on with mine.  I do need to know what I will do differently from now on.  I do need to know what I will be willing to put up with and what I won’t let fly.  Those are the questions I have to be working on.

I didn’t read the letter.  I put it in with a bundle of other things I needed to throw away from my hoarder’s drawer and put it in the trash.  After that, I promised myself no to let so much shit accumulate in any of my drawers.


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