Too Long...

It has been a while since I have posted... but I just can't fathom the idea of writing another depressing post. I need to feel happy for a few minutes so I can post something on a more positive note.

I'm moving into a place all on my own, finally. Yes, the place I live now is mine, but I have been sharing. I am no longer willing to share. People have repeatedly let me down, and I am ready to stop relying on anyone but myself. So with working four jobs, the gym, and moving... I find moments to catch my breath very rare, few and far between.

Once I get settled I will be alone whenever I am not working. I will need to find myself, to keep my center, hold my gravity and not let go. I have been alone before and I fell into a deep depression. This time, I will walk in with medication. I got off them when I was strong, but my therapist reminds me... depression is chemical and I need help right now. So, I will go back on them for now. I will have to use my strengths, any and all of them. I will have to use what I know and love, work with it to keep me whole and safe.


I am a different person than I was when I was 16, different than I was last year, last month, and even two days ago. I am eternally evolving and getting stronger even in my weaknesses. I just have to forge on and keep reminding myself of my strengths.

Hugs to all of you who have continued to support me through this past year... and to those who I believe will continue to support me in months to come. I may have been able to make it without some of you, but I'm glad I didn't have to. Thank you blogger friends... and hopefully a good news post will happen soon!

Can I Get Off Now?

No... I don't mean an orgasm, geesh! What kind of girl do you take me for? ;)

I mean this ride? This life... of ups and way more down then any one person should ever have to endure? I want off. Even when I am at my highest... I look ahead and I see how low I am going to fall. So even in my happiest moment I am filled with fear.

I went to the gym tonight, like everynight. I was doing my run, enjoying my music, and doing my best to avoid looking his direction. I was near the end of my run and I heard a loud, loud voice boom over my music. A girl had removed her shirt to reveal a very skimpy, spaghetti strp tank and very little to no bra. Her tits were as big as mine. And as a frame of reference I am a DD. You don't fucking go to the gym with DDs and no bra support. And to top it the fuck off... you don't strip in front of the guy I'm fucking!!

I wanted to hurl myself off my machine and launch at her like a ferocious SheDevil! I filled with hate and anger. Those were my eyes! That was my smile! ... He's already moving on. I'm worthy of fucking multiple times, I'm worthy of running errands and helping him out of a bind... but that's it!?!

I remind myself... I deserve better. I pump on the weights harder and faster. I don't want to be there a moment longer than I have to be. I don't want to be in his presence. ... that fucking child. This is why I don't fuck 22 year-olds, I remind myself and angrily pound on the weights. I get out fast and head to the counter to start my tanning time.

... I am hit with a beam of the most gorgeous light. The manager is on! His incredibly, gorgeous smile; adorable, brown, spikey hair; and dimples... mmmmmm, god... the man has dimples. I ramble off my anger to him and he stands reeling me in and letting me drowned in pitty. He raises his eyebrow as I walk to my tanning room.

Inside the bed I remind myself, gym-boy is nothing. This boy, is a boy, not the hottest face, hardly able to talk, unable to take the reins and fuck me as he should... a boy! I remind myself to be happy for the sexy-man working behind the counter and to let go of the boy not worth my time.

I walk back out to the counter and start to bid him fairwell. He tells me I don't need to go. It melts me. It melts me that he enjoys having me there as much as I enjoy being there, staring into those sweet blue-gray eyes. We flirt... fearlessly... shamelessly... for over 30 minutes. It was worth the loss of sleep. He says something I thought I would definitely never hear, "if... .... then things would be different." I respect his feelings. But I still won't get over his sweet face.

Why do men make me feel like I am effortlessly flying and then being dropped from a plane in the same five-minute span? I honestly want off this roller coaster. I just want my soldier. I wish it was July aready! I wish I had him in my arms so I didn't always feel so alone! I wish I had his attention so I didn't search for something, so in vain!

It's interesting how quickly after they fuck you they lose interest. Yes, they come back a time or two... but its nothing real. It's not friendship or respect... it's just a chance to cum. ... And I'm good at making that happen, so I guess that is what I do for now. But I want off... soon, very soon?

Wash Away?

I'm normally one who prefers cold. I get hot very easily and normally, quickly thereafter I become physically ill with dizziness and nausea. But last night I accepted the heat. I stood in the shower and let the scalding hot water pour over me as I heaped against the wall sobbing. Every few moments I would reach down and inch the hot a little further towards the door. Each time it ached a little more, but not enough. I just couldn't make it hot enough... even standing there for an hour, it didn't wash away.

I wanted it to wash this fucking virus away or... wash me away. I don't care which. I feel sick and numb with hatred of this disgusting thing I have inside of me. I am already broken because I have sexual addiction, but now I am a sex addict coping with HPV. You read the same line everywhere, 'tell him, and if he is a good guy, he will stay'. ... I wouldn't. If I knew fucking a man could lead me to have cancer... I would walk away! How can I blame anyone who would feel this way? And when it comes to a one-night stand, do you think he really cares who the hell I am? I don't. I just want to be free of these thoughts and feelings of worthlessness. It comes down to a simple mathmatical equation for me.

If I determine my self-worth by how much men want to fuck me, and I am no longer fuckable since I am the sexual equivalent of a leper. Then, I am led to believe I am nothing. And I will have to live with this for the rest of my life. Someone tell me how this can ever feel okay or how I am supposed to walk away from this situation without shame. No matter how many other women in the world have this, no matter how absurdly, grossly common this is, it will not change how disgusting I feel I am for it.

I experienced the first instance of this last night and it shattered me. I don't believe seeing my illusion of self-worth through someone else's sexual desires is the way I should be living, thus everything I am working on, for, and towards... but it does not change who I am in this moment. In this moment I need to be wanted to feel like I have a reason to be. Without that want... I am nothing... so why can't I just wash away? I can't make a conscious decision to end things, but if the water would do it for me... that would be ok.

Back Rubs...

Talking to a guy tonight he said something that rang with me. He said something that I have heard quite a few times. Something that I have proven wrong in every possible instance, thus far in my life. It's that line about giving me a back rub. You know the one where they tell you its just about making you feel good and helping you to relax. That this massage will not be about getting into your pants. How can two hot, ignited bodies pressed against eachother be about anything other than sex? It is the biggest load of bullshit you will ever hear! At least it is for me.


I retort as such, letting him know how much I believe this to be a line and a load of shit. He responds, as they always do, "I would never force myself on you". I don't disagree. I believe these men... some of them. In most senses, I know the difference, now. I believe I have been in that position enough to have some sense of who will force it and who will not. This man, is not one of them. He is kind, considerate, and compassionate. I tell him I know and he asks if it is myself I don't trust. But I know I don't like to make the first moves, ever, and with the exception of gym-boy... I don't. So, no... I trust myself to not start the sex. But I will never trust myself to stop it or prevent it. I just bat my eyes, smile, and flirt feverishly. I guess, this would be a seduction of sorts...

So, I tell them I don't want it, before we ever meet. And when we do I tease them until even they cannot contain themselves anymore. This is my test. I want someone to tell me I'm worth knowing first. On the inside... someone has to tell me. I don't even believe. When a guy wants to just be next to me, believes I am worth sitting beside, just to sit beside... without fucking, maybe then I'll believe. But no one really does. I make them fail. Isn't this partly because of my self-sabotage?

I need someone to push past my test. I need someone to like me enough... in mind, in spirit to not let me ruin the posibility of an us. I fear he doesn't exist. But what is more... I believe soldier could be him. He enjoyed me for me. He talked to me for me. He looked into my eyes and smiled just to see my smile. But I broke his resistance. Laying on the couch my head on his leg... I could not resist running my fingers over his thighs... running my nails up his chest and down... knowing perfectly well what I was doing, on a subconscious level. Squirming against his every will-power. He finally stood up and he said, "you know what... no, I don't care anymore, you did this... do you see this?". He said that jerking down his shorts exposing his incredible yumminess to me. I was in shock. No one had spoken to me like that. But he was right. He was completely right! I did this.

He took me after that. 900% willing! We wanted to wait through that weekend. But I tested him until he broke. But he still wanted to be with me. When will I believe in myself enough to stop testing. It's like I don't want them close. I use this sexual demon inside of me to steal all of the control. And I know I have heart, I have passion, I have loyalty, and an incredible amount of compassion. Why am I so afraid to be really loved? There are these parts of me and they fight back and forth. I can't completely supress this sexual side or I lose it, like I did in my marriage. This is a part of me, just as my mind is and my heart is. I need to find an ability for co-existance.

I want to be better when he gets home. I want to be everything he deserves and everything he needs! I spoke to him three nights this week and it meant so much to me. I've been drugged! I've been re-filled with the love he offers. Everything a life with him represents. But I have to be healthy enough inside to give us the chance to be a team, a couple. If only I can learn to stop sabotaging things!! I have to get through this for him and for me! I have to stop believing these stories about back rubs, because they are never just back rubs. I need to protect us and learn to protect me.

Front Seat Driving...

In 99.9% of all of my sexual activities... I am not the aggressor. I am such a happy follower. You want your cock in my mouth... I'll put your cock in my mouth. You want me on top... baby, I'm on top. But when a guy is shy, it just can't work this way. I become like a hungry lionness starving for a kill.


So after three grueling months of watching this incredibly hot guy watch me at the gym, I had to do something. He'd look and I'd look... we'd catch eachother looking and smile and look somemore or look away shyly. No matter how you shook it... we both wanted it! So I made a move. Time after time I would come out of the tanning room and he'd be standing just outside the door... covered in sweat... with those dark, deep eyes. Fuck this... I stuck my hand out and introduced myself. I couldn't take it anymore. The shy smiles and stolen glances... I wanted my hands all over that slippery body.

I don't navigate the dating world well... not the real one, at least. I'm a fucking pro (semi-literally) when it comes to the online dating arena. But this was real. For a couple more weeks we exchanged just a couple flirtatious words and left it at that. He went back to lifting and I went home, smiling. Finally we chatted about halloween. I told him what I was and showed him a picture from my phone. As I closed my phone he offered his number. I giggled, fucking of course I wanted it and took it happily. I see him at the gym and now our stolen glances involve smirks and we snicker as his gym partner tries to set us up, unknowingly.

We've met a few times since. And it has been nothing short of our interludes at the gym. We both end up sweaty and exhausted. But this boy still does not make the first moves. He totally wants it... but he is just not a front seat driver.

He stood by me at the side of his couch, "I'm gonna jump in the shower now". I bit my lower lip and traced my finger tips along the inside of the elastic of his gym shorts. I looked up at him and said okay... he instantly changed his mind. "Well maybe I can wait a bit". I can't help but want to rip his clothes off. His chest is so completely addicting! Shit, I thought tits looked good... but they don't got anything on how incredibe his body looks and feels!

I'm trying to take the driver's seat and get him to open up with me. God knows the boy gets involved when he has me on my hands and knees in his bed. So why doesn't he make the moves? I don't know that I'm prepared to be in the front seat all the time! Hopefully it is his age and the more he is with me, the more he grows to love taking control with me. Besides, I don't bite...

Drive Home...

The drive home is always the same. It's a blank stare out my windshield. It is a stare so strong I lose my place... I fade into the dashed lines and the double yellows. I follow the road some how oblivious to where I am going. It is mechanical and I am blind. I don't see... I am numb... I am probably high.

Why did I go there, why did I drive my car, why did I rearrange my time, how did I think it would end any different? My therapist tells me I am testing it. Testing them to see if they will always let me down and testing me to see if I will always pick a path I consider a failure. I replay the scenario over and over praying and hoping for a different ending. But there isn't one.

Tonight he was a gentleman. My therapist commonly helps me make sense of it in my head. My lame attempts at 'no'... "those were enough," she reassures me. Everytime we fall back to the same line, "he should have listened, he should have stopped". This time he asked, "do you want me to stop?" ... I never said, "yes". So, he didn't stop. He just kept telling me I was so pretty... so damn pretty. Like it was my fault he couldn't resist. It's already my fault I can't resist, it can't be my fault he can't resist too!

I didn't want it. I somehow couldn't get over what it would mean if I said no. I don't even know why. His kiss was small, closed, and tasted of stale everything and dill pickles. It was enough to make me gag. He was good looking, but not overly so. I was not drawn to him. There was no attraction. So... so what if I said no? I didn't want it. Why isn't that enough? He kissed and sucked my neck and it made me nervous. I could feel him over-sucking... I was terrified of who would know. Which next/current guy would see? I look like a leopard. Who knows if I will ever see him again and who cares? There was a time when they had to be repeats so I didn't feel I let my guard down in vain. Now, there have been so many... and so many I don't ever want to see or feel again... what does it really matter?

I'm driving home as a spotted leopard... I'm driving home numb... I'm driving home from a stranger's house. And it has been a few weeks from hell. I'm not sure when the hell will end. It started with a letter in the mail telling me they had found something off with my pap smear that would need to be addressed further. It's not quite over... but I have been diagnosed with HPV. A disgusting, completely common, and mainly unpreventable virus that I didn't know one goddamn thing about before it took over my body.

I flash to... 'this would all be easier if...' But I couldn't do that. When I was 16... I thought I could do it and tried several times. And everytime I stopped. Everytime I came back to the same thought. If I hurt myself, my mother would die of a broken heart. Everytime it was always you, mom. Everytime it made me stop. And it always will... if I fell that far again.

My therapist reassured me... this is a hard time. Two of my most very basic necessities that we all need in life to survive, to sustain, and to move on... are being threatened. I feel I have taken on a blunt attack. My health and my home. I am consumed with panic. I find myself crying for my husband, my best friend. He reassured me. He held me. He steadied me. ... he is no longer an option. I must find this steadiness and comfort on my own. So I claw and crawl my way out of this hole I am in.

But driving down the road I am blank and numb. Angry at myself. Angry at my inability to prevent these situations. I keep thinking if I just know the point where I start to fall into the addiction, maybe I can stop it there. Stop before the rush crashes over me. Stop before the temptation consumes me. But why on the drive home does it all have to surface? Why do I have to feel all the guilt and shame? Why do I feel so numb at this moment? Just get me home safe... in my own body, because right now I feel completely out of it.

Fuck Or Be Fat?

I came to a place last week where I felt like all the addiction was piling up. Smothering me in a mess of all things unhealthy. I'd take one opportunity as it came, and the next, and again the next. But as much as I love the sex... the strangers, the unhealthy patterns, and the bad situations... the emotional sabotage was getting to be too great. It was more than I could afford internally.

So, I tried to stop. I made the decision to close off my sexuality. I decided I was stronger than that. I decided I could fight. I can be healthy. I decided I would stick with just one male, fuck-friend... if you will. With the exception of one hottie I've been dying to meet.

Sitting in the room with my therapist we discussed relationships. For approximately the hundreth time I mentioned my belief that although I wanted the emotional stability, the attention, and the love that comes from a relationship... I just didn't feel I was prepared to love as I believe a man deserves to be loved and treated. I say this after having walked away from the incredible man that I had as a husband. It was part of my entire rational behind separating.

... but she called me on my bullshit this time. "Why aren't you ready?", she questioned me. I smirked across the dim room, knowing exactly where she was going. "I don't know," I said, gazing out the window. ... I have been busting my ass for months focusing on who I am, where I am, where I'm going, who I want to be. If I can look inside myself and be prepared to constantly be trying to be a better me, why couldn't I love and be prepared to constantly be bettering an us? I was following the idea that I have to love myself first. But honestly... I have no idea when that love will really exist. I love things about myself. But to love as completely as I would love another... I doubt it. But I can appreciate my strengths. Maybe that is the best I can do.

So ... there I was, trying to be a one-man fuck toy. And suddenly I was consumed by hunger. A hunger I had before. There was not one goddamn thing I didn't want. Cravings fell upon me so strong. And worse of all I succumbed. My strength was gone. I talked to my therapist a very small amount about my tendency to overeat. She wondered outloud to me what vacancy within me was being filled now, that I no longer needed the food to fill.

Smack in the face ... it is right there. I have to make a choice. Do I want to overeat and be fat and have a healthy sexlife? ... Or do I want to fuck whenever physically possible and continue my journey to being the thin, healthy, physical person I want to be? Choose. Black or white. I know no gray. Fuck, I have an addiction. A true addiction. Who was I to think I could just walk away?

I walked into her office with a frown on my face. All this work... all this time... all this effort. But if you ask me what I choose... I will pick to be thin everytime!!! A compulsive overeater or a sex addict... hmmmm? Tell me you would choose different...? I don't think I have the strength to fight both. I want to be healthy. So, I decided I just have to find healthier sexual patterns to follow. But I won't go back to being fat! I won't go back!

Blogging?

Ok... so obviously I suck lately! And we're not talking blowjobs! I have been seriously slacking off on writing. Shame on me! Writing is so important to me. So in all things I do... I should continue to write. Things, ideas, blog-spiration comes to me... but I never seem to find the time to write.

So we'll just call this a bad spot in my writing journey. But I just wanted to let you all know and remind myself... blogging is super important to me and it has not left me. I will find time by the end of this week to write! I promise!

I have been incredibly swamped at work, not that that is an excuse... but when I get home I am already torn between whether to sleep, relax, catch up on my DVR'ed tv shows, clean my apartment, get the halloween costume and details all set, work out, eat, be a friend, or just feed whatever addiction I find myself facing at night. In most instances... I just want to escape the computer! I'm trying to figure out where it all fits in.

In any regard... by the end of the week there will be a blog or two... maybe even three if I feel so inspired! I'm missing my blogging world and 20sb-chat friends... In my realm you will not be what I forfeit!

Trust Bashed? (continued from 'Why Did It?')

And now I know why I had that feeling it would turn into a one-night stand. I feel like someone just took the little trust I had left in males and beat the fuck out of it with an iron frying pan...

I was walking through the grocery store, minding my own business, wishing the incredible pain in my neck would go away and... I saw him. My gut impulse was to jump behind something to hide but I kept walking. The longer I looked... the more I noticed. The insanely large bag of dog food in his cart, you know, the one that resembles the size of a small to medium sized child. And it hit me... why would a soon-to-deploy soldier need so much dog food? And what's more... why would a man who doesn't have the Great Dane he dreams of having some day need it?

I instantly began to feel sick. I see him leaning over his cart to speak with someone in front of it. I peek around the aisle-end to see... her. Young, pretty, thin. I step up my pace to an extremely fast walk. If I were at the lake I'd resemeble one of those old women walking so fast her arms would look like they were reaching for the sky in an attempt to walk faster. I put my hand to the side of my face in an effort to hide. Why the fuck am I hiding??

I've done nothing wrong. I told him I didn't want to have sex. I have a very simple 'no involved men' rule. So not only did the events of last night occur despite my every hope that they not. I'm stuck in the grocery storee with a piece of shit guy who chose me to help him cheat.

Mankind is at an all-time new low. And worse, I think I let them. Now I will probably take on double the amount of cynicism and criticism when talking to new men. That way I will be treated even more like I'm a crazy bitch... just for trying to protect myself from this.

Had I been thinking, I would have walked up and said 'hello'. I should have made him uncomfortable. I should have ruined his entire world. Afterall, he is the stupid fuck that can't respect either of us enough or manage enough self-control to keep it in his pants. I'm tempted to text him... or call him. I don't know what I'd say. He has all the control. I should have stolen it in the middle of Wal-Mart.

Why do I allow them to bash my little remaining trust like this?

Why Did It?

What's your dream date he asks...


A: I don't really know. I guess I normally do whatever he wants to do.

B: I want to give you the best, so tell me what YOU want.

A: I guess dinner... followed by a walk by the lake, the chance to talk, get more comfortable with eachother... maybe head back to my place for a movie and the possibility of distraction.

B: I love it. All of it, sounds perfect for Saturday.

A: Really?

B: Yeah, except the dinner.


My heart sinks. It's all too common. Why do they ask? Why do I bother to answer? It is the same bullshit scenerio.


A: Oh... why is that?

B: My roommate's family is in town so I have plans for dinner.


I understand this. It is perfectly legit. It has nothing to do with me, it is not personal. So... I accept. We talk non-stop for the next three days leading up to our meeting. Not the... 'what is your favorite position' talks... more the 'what was your favorite subject in school' talks. It was comfortable and smooth.

But as the night draws closer on Saturday... I begin to feel it. I feel its going to be one of those. One of those 'one-night' events. I don't want that. Not one little bit am I interested in a one-night stand right now! I message him an hour before we are supposed to meet.


A: I don't think I can do this.

B: What?

A: I'm not up for a one-night stand right now.

B: I never meant for it to be that. I want to see you again when I get back from deployement.

A: You do?

B: And I want to talk to you while I'm there.

A: Really?

B: Yes. Are we still on?

A: Yeah... ok. But I don't want to have sex.

B: Ok



I let him in the door and we stand and talk in my kitchen. He's sweet, just like on the phone. Our bodies get closer... and then within a minute we're kissing. My back is slammed against the fridge... his hands are up my shirt and our tongues are dancing. Magnets fall and scatter across the floor. He reaches into my shirt and peels my bra from my flesh and we spin across the kitchen. My back is slammed against the cupboard and he's reaching behind me clammering to clear a path on the countertop. He grabs me and he lifts me up onto the counter. It's intense and note-worthy. My fingers running through his short Army-boy hair as I nibble up his neck and ear. He fumbles with my jeans, my shirt, and the height difference. In desperation, he pulls me down and pushes me into my bedroom.

This is clearly not what I had in mind. And after we were both happily fucked and laying on the couch watching a movie it hit me even harder. This will be a one-night stand. This is exactly what I didn't want to happen. This is what I asked him not to have happen. But he brought a velvet sachet full of condoms and a small vibrating toy. He knew exactly what he wanted to happen. It was all perfectly planned. And went accordingly. I didn't want this to happen...

So why did it?

I pulled away from laying beside him for the remainder of the movie. I meant nothing to him. This is all just an act. The same as all the others. My time... it means nothing, my body... it means nothing, our energy... it means nothing. So, why did I let it happen?!?

So Alone...

I'm not sure where I am right now. I just know I'm there alone. I know there are people all around that love me and whom I love. I know I have close friends, I have relatives, an incredible mother, and step mother. I know they are all around, but wherever I go, whenever I go... I go alone.

I go grocery shopping and I look around at all these people. They are deciding what goes in the cart, together. I miss bumping into him in the aisle. I miss cooking for more than myself. Because I'm sorry, but shit doesn't come in small enough packages for that... and when it does you have to pay extra for it. What kind of bullshit is that? I miss looking over and knowing there is someone beside me to help pick me up, dust me off, and laugh with me when I make an ass of myself.

But maybe this is all just a phantom reality. Did I really ever have those moments? Some I think I did, some I think I just dreamt up, and others I long for from what I've found on television and movies.

I'm struggling within myself to stay on this path. I feel entirely alone. So alone sometimes... I can't even stand myself. I fight the Social Anxiety Disorder. But more than that, I fight myself because I miss feeling like someone is always there with me.

I gave up my marriage, because although I loved him so deeply, I didn't feel we were the right fit. Unfrotunately, it took me a bit too long to realize that and a lot of pain for both of us, but it was an inevitable truth we would either face now... or down the line when there would be kids involved. I made the choice to have now be the time (a few months ago), but it really doesn't get easier losing my best friend. Him presenting me with divorce papers has made that even more clear to me. I regret the way things played out, for both of us. I wish I could have spared him more.

Then I had my step brother around. He is staying with me for a short while and through both of our lonelinesses we found some comfort in eachother. Memorial Day we walked alone together at the lake, kind of quiet, half talking about the places we wished we could be, and even more the people we wished we were sharing them with. Time has passed and the space between us grows and shrinks just like the events of our lives. He is still here, but we aren't sown together in the same loneliness.

Then I found my roommate. Through my childhood I had found so many friends. It was almost always one at a time. It was frantic, almost an obsession as seven year olds commonly do. Loving a common song, riding the same bus, giggling at the same dippled smiling boy. But they always were fleeting. I moved a lot and so many, many of my friendships were lost to relocation. But some were lost for other reasons, too. I don't know why I can't seem to hold onto anyone. Now her. Our friendship crashed over us like a thick downpour of rain. We both embraced the warmth and similarity we found in eachother. And, as always, it appears it might be transient. I feel I may be trying to latch on in a losing battle.

All this loneliness is not for nothing though. I do need this space. I sleep with guys but none of them stay. It is a frenzied attempt at feeling attached, I fear. I mean, don't get me wrong, sex is no doubt pleasurable. But what if all I really want is that connection, that closeness, even for a moment. I'm surely not finding it. There are a few I see incredible potential with, if I ever get to actually meet them. But I still don't believe I am ready, so I need to stand my ground. I guess, I should be thankful they barely have time for me. Thankful that I am still able to take this lesson and not latch on.

I am alone because I gave myself away far too early. Everyone says to love yourself, to enjoy yourself, be one on your own not just for another... before you can love another. I never loved me. I enjoy things, but I seem to always rush to enjoy what they enjoy first. I surely, am not one on my own. Or at least I wasn't. I am trying to be good at being me so that I can make a good us someday.

I miss my soldier so much, but this time he is deployed is possibly the best thing either of us could hope for if we ever hope to make a future. I have to learn to be happy on my own. I am trying, dearly! I paint, I dance, I sing, I workout... but I am lonely. My therapist suggests I use the relationships of loved ones to keep me grounded. I try that too, but I am definitely not one for reaching out. I think maybe my hand was slapped one too many times. But I am regrowing my strength there, as well.

I guess, I just want to know I'm doing the right thing. This loneliness is killing me in some senses and making me stronger in others. Am I doing the right thing? Why does it feel so goddamned difficult? How do I keep reminding myself to stay strong?

A Super Power??

A friend of mine asked me to join a fun little movement... Synchroblogging. The main idea here is several people doing a blog on the same theme. The blog theme this time is which super power you would have if you could have one.

I think if I had to choose a super power I'd want to know when people are lying. I know this wasn't an option, really, but it is what would be most beneficial to me and the people I love. So if I can't have super human strength to go along with the super power, I'll just take being a human lie-detector.

I thought, of course, of possibly seeing through things. That is such a tempting super power for me. I love looking at men and women honestly. But I would hate manipulating anything in such a fashion. Let alone the privacy violation. I've known too much of this myself to put anyone else through it.

I thought of something super human like flying or shape shifting, but if I can't fight evil... it all just seems useless. I definitely would want to help people and who better to help than the people I love. To protect them from harm and pain. To keep anyone around them from abusing their way too quick-to-trust natures.

That just seems like the most appropriate power for me.

Hugs Kelvin! Check out his blog if you want to see more Synchroblogging.

Love The Gym?

I've recently found such a huge passion for going to my gym. When I first started going to the gym I thought it was crappy. I never got the energy. It was a challenge to get my ass up, dressed, out the door. It was all about motivation and wanting to be there, and the truth was I didn't want to be there. But I've found a reason to be there.



Part of my huge desire to go has to do with the 45 lbs I've lost. It feels incredible. I love knowing that I can run nearly three miles with ease. I love the compliments and people constantly asking, "are you losing weight". But even losing the weight doesn't make going to the gym fun...



I think I love it because when I'm there... I use the eliptical directly behind the weight area. I can run and stare at hot guys with sweat dripping and delicious muscles bulging. Mmmmmph... jesus! It's astonishing I don't hurl myself off the machine. Then when I'm lifting weights I get to walk near them... wiggle playfully. It feels like a sexy, hot game of cat and mouse. And the looks I get back are just as playful. But with headsets in, no one ever really talks. We all just look, we smile, we wiggle, and I giggle.



Even better is walking into the gym and the incredibly gorgeous guy working the counter. The more I see him and his adorable smile, talk with him, and tease him lightly... the more I want to jump over the counter and rip his clothes off starting with that baseball cap hiding his uber-sexy man hair!! He makes me feel like a starving lioness and his shy, dimpled, boyish grin totally makes me wet my panties! In my gym fantasy I always imagined myself with a fellow gym-goer in the tanning room slamming against the walls and down onto the bench, but he has me second-guessing my fantasy... wishing I could have him instead. So I flirt... and love every second of it.



So I go... almost everyday. I surely hate Mondays, but his ass is hot enough to get me there anyday! Can I really love going to the gym? ... I'll take whatever motivation I can get to get me there, for now.

A Whirlwind Of Everything...

For the last week I've had fleeting thoughts dance through my head about what I wanted my next blog topic to be but nothing has been able to stick. I commonly speak of a passion I need in order to write. Something that fires up inside of me strong and hot to keep me compelled. Recently I've found myself climbing a rock... and I have reached the spot where not one of the damn foot-holes near me feels right or safe enough to move forward up the rock. But I also can't stay stationed in the middle of the rock panicked by the gamble of a wrong move. So, on I go.

My last week has been a mixture of so many things. It has included so many thoughts, so many feelings and emotions, topped off with a slew of insane activities. It all started with my ex serving me with divorce papers. Not .... here we are, this is the time, this is the place we call an end... but throwing things, torn, and broken across the living room - this is the end. All the love that ever once was... it was stomped out in anger and hate. Not saying that the love could ever go away, because I don't believe it is possible to turn off all the feeling you have ever had for a person. At least I know I can't. But this wasn't a good finish, a good end.

So that's where it started. A race to get through this week. With love, pain, anger, resentment, frustration, confusion, joy, memories, accomplishment, and sorrow all mixed together in big fucking bowl of alphabet soup.

And besides all the emotion I was already feeling there was all the normal day-to-day stuff. In other words... men. I will probably meet at least two new guys this weekend. I've already met one. I see things in them I would hold onto if given half the chance. But I think most of them have decided to live by the all too common, 'my life is too busy' manslogan of the fucking year! I guess my question is... too busy for what? ... life? Because that is what we are talking about here. And when they are old, gray, and starting to wrinkle... is that when life can begin? I am being harsh here, merely because I have heard this same lame statement from guys over and over. I wonder how it is they can find time for my lips but nothing more.

My life feels like a cluster-fuck. So, although I will rarely do this. I feel I have done my blog readers an injustice by writing with such a lack of focus. Let this video explain how I am feeling. And most of all... enjoy the happy awesome beat behind it all. She's a great artist.

Being Me...

All I can ever be is me. I was born in this skin. I was born with these eyes and this smile. I walk in these shoes. And tomorrow I will wake up as that same me. I do not write to please anyone. Yes... somewhere in the back of my mind I want to be appreciated, somewhere in the back of my mind I always want to please. But the day I sat down to start writing... I sat down for me. I sat down to vent, to clear my mind, to find connections between the thousands of looming thoughts swirling in my brain. If, as a biproduct, I found a connection with others and began making someone smile, say wow, or feel even the slightest something... then it was a happy result for me.

I will not stop my blog for you. I will not stop my blog for anyone. I sat in the grass beneath the tree beside my mother and fought myself on these very thoughts. What am I afraid of? So what if people know who I am? So what if they know I've had sex? So what if they know my fears? Honestly... does any of this change who I am at the end of the day? ... No. Why then, should I let that fear rule me? ... I won't.

So... the fact that people have found me cannot be my determining factor. I am writing to be a better me. I am writing to find myself and to improve myself. Ultimately, that means I need to see even the shit I am ashamed of... whether or not you see it is of no effect. I will not give anyone the right to have power over me or my blog. My choice and my voice was stolen by abusers, rapists, and assholes. All too often... I let them take it. I'm still too afraid to fight for it, for myself, for my voice in so many instances, but this one is mine!

The final questions are... Can I find the freedom to write as I began writing with despite knowing my ex decided to pass around my blog information to his family? Can I know that there may be malicious eyes on me waiting for me to fail and still admit all my truths?

I will be the best me I can be oneday, even if today I am not. This is my voice and I will continue to write!!

Picking Up The Mess...

My ex found my blog.

I don't know what to do.

Do I take it down? Do I write with the same freedom, love, and passion I have been until this day?

... definitely confused!!!

Raining... Men?

So I seem to have stepped into some fucked up alternate universe where there are a ton of men. Everywhere I turn there are new ones. Hot ones too!! ... And they want me... what kind of bullshit propaganda is that?

You're probably asking yourself how in sam-hell I could be bitching about this!?! Well... let me tell you, I am not a juggler! In no part of my life have I ever been good at handling multiples. I can handle two guys... thats easy. But this... this is too many! I'm in a state of shock.

I'm out there on a dating site or two... but nothing too extreme. Its not like I'm plastered on every site out there. This weekend I tried to relax and enjoy myself... or at least that was the goal. I ended up meeting with a couple of guys I had met before. The first encounter of which was insanely hot.

We spent the past few months remembering and romanticizing about the first time we were together. The sex was incredible and steamy. He fell upon me as we watched a movie pleading with me that my tits had just pushed his limit way too far. We spent the next hour slamming eachother in one form or another against my new suede couch. In normal instances I would have begged any living creature just to get the hell away from my new couch... but by the sixth incredible, mind-blowing orgasm I could hardly place more coherent words than 'holy fuck', let alone a complete sentence! My thighs ached from riding him, we were both covered in sweat and yet neither one of us could stand the thought of stopping for a chance to breathe! Somehow we found our way to floor and onto hands and knees for another hour. It was loud and sticky - exactly how every damn sexual experience should be.

But we fight... this guy and I. He screws with my head and twists me into doing exactly what he wants me to do. Everytime I end up feeling like a 6 year-old at a softball game that was just forced to forfeit because little Jenny was out sick. I swear to god... its not my fault. I lose all sense of reality. And for this he is extremely unhealthy for me.

...But after a few months of the back-and-forth and with his ass finally being in town... I said I wanted to see him through grit-teeth. He was here within 15 minutes. Nevermind the fact I was already driving down the road to pick up my roommate from work. I turned around. I walked the three flights of stairs up to my apartment and as I met his eyes we both knew clothes were coming off. Pressed against the fridge, the walls, and finally slammed onto my bed. "I told you I could do it in ten minutes," he gleamed down at me just after we both orgasmed. It was intense sex... with him reminding me every few minutes. "Are you still mad?"... " do you still want to fight?"... "is this what you wanted?" I shut out his taunts and focused on his hot body slamming against me... until he had me begging, screaming, pleading, and wanting more! How could I let him turn me inside out like that?

This was just one of four this weekend. I feel I've reached some sort of ultimate slut-hood. What the fuck am I thinking? After him I am sent into a mad sprawl of my sexual addiction. He has clearly triggered something viscious and sick inside of me that I had been trying so desperately to close off. ... but the sex, fuck, the sex is so hot!

... And I say again... I don't want to see him again!! Until next time I turn into a fucking pretzel.

On Sunday I received approximately 10 new emails. That is 10 new men on top of the old ones that haven't let me go, yet. I am messed up, my head is obviously not screwed on in any proper fashion. I feel myself flown into a mad dash to pick up the thousand marbles just tossed my direction on a hard concrete floor. I feel I can't let one pass by... because it could be the one. The one to walk right, talk right, fuck right, and love right. I seriously doubt I will find it in this bullshit computer world, but for now I will scramble to pick up the balls. I'm weeding through the emails... talking with some on the phone and on chat... I've even met one already, with three more dates lined up.

I'm still holding out. Because in the back of my mind is my soldier and he pushes to the front more often than not. I cling to my phone like it is my eternal salvation because he could call. I cling to anything to connect these two individuals that are worlds apart. In a sea of men... I look for the one. But since it seems to be raining men, does it have to fucking pour? Can I get a soft drizzle? Or just bring my one home...

At A Loss...

I think when I started writing I thought I would just vent. Who is around to hear me? What do they care if I'm a bitch, slut, or even a raging fucking looney? But I've grown to care. I've grown to want to please. I want to write and be stimulating, moving, and enthralling. And when I feel like shit... I'm afraid of letting you down, as well as myself. But this is all I have... this is what's on my mind!

Part of my last few weeks have been insanely happy. I have one of the best roommates I could ever ask for. She is me... as crazy as that sounds. We have so much in common. We bitch the same, we're sensative the same, we think the same, and not that I know in full detail, but I believe we even fuck the same. We talk about our lives, the trials and tribulations of life as a 20-something not knowing what the fuck we're fighting it all for. What is the goal? Where is the sense of accomplishment? When is it life finally feels like you're living it and not just working toward some un-attainable mirage?

I met a soldier... on my first wedding aniversary to the husband I'm separating from. I didn't think I could meet anyone. I've gone out for years... and never been asked out, merely had words of lust slurred at me. "Show me those huge tits!", "ci mami... blah blah blah", or "fuck girl, can I take you back to my place?". How is it they know? How is it they all say the same thing? Do big tits somehow promote an inability to speak english or the lack of simple, common decency of 'hello, what's your name?'? I'd never been asked for my phone number in any proper way. Never asked to dance, just brushed up against by some strange cock I'd never been introduced to.

But this soldier, my soldier was different. I was dancing on the wall and he climbed up to find my ear and ask for a dance. ME!! A man... asked me to dance! Silly girl... I asked, "where?". He smiled and pointed to the dance floor. He took me there and if felt perfect. I write often of this dance. I write of being against him. Every seduction you could ever hope for... and I felt it. After a few songs I bid him for a break. I thanked him and found myself a seat on the wall to catch my breath. But as soon as I was back up and dancing he found me again. The second dance was hotter... I felt his lips on my neck and held his hands to my hips.

Before I knew it... it was time to go. My girlfriend was dragging me off. He said to me, "I wish I had your number". So sweet, so unobtrusive... and I told him he could have it. Afterall... he was the first man to treat me like I was real on a night when I needed so desperately to feel real. I took his phone from his hand and called myself. There... now I know he has me! He thanked me for the dance, again, and the number. I smiled and slipped away.

Our texts, phone calls, and chats were nothing less. The weekend he came to spend with me, still all the more. I felt completely in love... and what so many would call far too soon. I'd smile and he'd smile at my smile. He'd kiss me and I felt infallible, just as he felt to me. But there was an evil looming over us. He was being deployed... in days.

That curse that hits sooooo many girls as a soldier is being wisked off to war. They kept telling me... "it's not real", "this is what soldiers do", "he's just trying to find something to cling to". I disregarded every word... because my soldier was not the same. Mine was real. He tested me by disappearing just before he deployed. He broke off all contact until I thought I would burst. I went through moments of hate, of confusion, of sorrow, and of love, too. I kept coming back to the same thing... if it was all fake why did he look at me like that? If it was all a game, why not go straight for the sex talk... god knows so many had before. No, they were wrong, they were all wrong!! Mine is different! And he came back to me after a brief interlude of his own confusion.

So there he is... in Afghanistan at the Kandahar Air Base where it seems like daily a plane crashes. And on top of those crashes, there are blackouts, lost soldiers, and bombings. It's all some mad fucking test!! Will I stay resilient in the face of all of this? Can I love a man and stay connected to him despite the fact that I may hardly even know him yet? Everyone tells me this fades. I must admit my resilience comes in waves. There are days when I feel like I'm chasing my own tail. But last night... when I heard his voice, it came back. Every love... every perception of perfection... every desire to hold strong, it is still there!!!

So I'm confused and lost... and unsure of myself. He asked me to stay open to the possibility of loving another... so I try to stay open. But for now I will hang on to this one thing, this one man. Because out there... far far away, I think he's holding on to me too! And when he gets home... I will await with bated breath to get to know him, all the way... and love him, all the more.

Know The Difference

At the moment... I need to remind myself to let go. I need to remind myself I cannot control everything. I need to remember I can't fix it all at once but only take a step at a time. I feel like everything around me is a mess. I start to feel an ounce of control and happiness for living and something walks by the blackboard and all the chalk is reduced to incoherent smears and smudges of dust.

I thought I found the car I could buy. It drove so smooth. It was hot. It was clean. But turns out the $300 dollars worth of work it needed was really $1200. I sure as fuck cannot afford that. I'm running out of time as my once loving, understanding husband has turned into a snarling asshole of heat and anger. He wants "his" van. Ya know... the one we got when he wrecked my Taurus. The one we used the Geico check to fix. Fuck it, let him have the minivan piece of shit. I don't want it anyways!!

And to top things off - I'm insanely jealous. You'd think I'd learn, but I never seem to. How can I say, 'you aren't the right one for me'... and in the same breath say, 'but no one else can have you'? What type of bullshit have I trained myself to believe? I want every bit of attention and admiration I can get from him... and to give some in return, but I'm unwilling to give my heart. It seems absolutely inconceivable to me that a grown adult woman that knows how love and life works should still be having such silly thoughts. I miss him... but still I push away in fear that being too close I'll see the happiness that I am not apart of. How can I be so possessive? I hate myself for it. I consider jealousy - at least within myself - unforgivable.

So here's my thought at the moment... it's all I have. I always loved hearing this. I think maybe The Serenity Prayer should be my life motto.

"God grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change;

courage to change the things I can;

and wisdom to know the difference. "

I'm not religious... but right now I need that strength. God's strength, whosever it is. I want everything to be at peace... I want to float away on that thought. Can I please get some serenity?

Hot In Here... Or Just Me?

For the last couple weeks... I have been fighting the urges that had once felt so primal to me. I don't want to make it sound like I'm all the shit, cause God knows there are too many out there that already believe that they are, but I have a waiting list. Or at least figuratively. It's not like I make them take numbers or anything, they just choose to stick around, to wait, and to want. The ones I've fucked before too that beg to be back in my noisy ass bed slamming me and feeling it all once again.

I had been trying to stay sober - so to speak. I was trying to sleep with no one. Trying to be the good girl this society has raised me to be. I just happen to let it all out occasionally and fuck like crazy. But not now. For now I'll wear the mini-skirt and just tease the living-shit out of him!

But honestly, I am feeling so damned weak!! I try to meet them a few times first, mostly. I try to follow the rules. I try not to kiss too much, if at all... cause baby, once the river starts flowing... I can't make it stop! I try to stay out of my apartment, because once the fever begins I do not know how to cool it down and we are headed for the back room!


What happens when I get this insatiable lust and I have no (special) one to quench it? ... well. LOL... there are toys, but it is just not the same. All those men that see the Big Pink vibrator come out of the drawer and their eyes grow as fast as their tents are pitched - they think that means they must not be good enough. They are dead fucking wrong! Big Pink does not have those sexy, manly hands to run up my thighs and over my hips.

So, I can fall down and take care of it on my own... but I'd really prefer not to. If I were with a guy I'd totally do it for him. But I'm not with one. I'm all alone and this heat is killing me. It is a totally raw desire. Everything inside of me seems to be speaking the same language and screaming it! My entire body is overwhelmed and somehow under-touched. Can't fucking imagine how that is possible... but my body sure is preaching it.

Unwilling to step to the back with Big Pink on my own, filled with lust and a ravenous craving to fuck the shit out of some guy, to feel that incredible friction. Do I just pick a number? Do I throw it all to the wind? Forget these fabulous morals I've been trying to train myself to endure? Most of all, where the fuck did this heat come from and when will it pass??? Dear God... I need an ice storm!

Make A Wish...

Last night was the best night for one of the biggest meteor showers of the year. I have to admit I don't honestly believe I've seen a shooting star before. I always look up longingly waiting for something to fly across the sky. I look like a little girl with such innocence looking up this macrocosm. It's incredible. It's untouchable. It's infinite. ... and I am in awe.

I remember when I was little always looking at the sky. I would lay in the grass and feel the blades run through my tiny fingers and look at the stars and try to make out constellations. The Big Dipper pointing me to the North Star was always my favorite. Or in the daytime I'd lay on a beach towel or lawn chair and watch the clouds roll by and try to invision them as shapes. Time always seems to be in abundance when you are a kid. You never know it. You never really have the intelligence or the mentality to stop and see what a huge thing you are a part of. You spend your time looking forward to your next birthday and age mile-marker.

So here I am... twenty-four years old... staring out into the Milky Way waiting to see the stars dance across the sky. I leaned backward over my balcony railing arching myself just to see around my roof. I felt like a little kid, standing beside my new best friend - my roommate. We were both eager to see. We were both there arched over the railing peering up into the clear night sky. I felt myself asking question after question much the way a six year old does when they go someplace new and completely foreign to them. What does it look like? How often does it happen? What causes it? Where should I look? Can I see it from the city like this? It was a rapid fire... and she was taking my hits like a pro.

And there it was!! One sharp bright streak blinked so fast in front of my eyes I hardly even knew I saw it and it was gone. I squealed with delight! ... and she got just as excited for my first sight at a shooting star. We stood there longer daydreaming about standing there with guys. Here we are two grown women seeing something so incredible and fulfilling and we still want someone else to share it with. What must that say about me?

... I wish to be laying out in the grass with my head resting on his arm, the smell of him drugging me into sweet intoxication, caressing his skin, feeling the tingles from his fingers stroking my hair, and the goosebumps I get from the cool night air mixing with the warmth of our bodies.

In essence... I am a girl. Wether I am big and grown or little and impressionable. I want to be filled with love and life. I want to giggle and be happy. My wish is that all of my dreams come true... is that too much to ask?

Making... Friends?

I've been trying to meet people off and on from the internet. Sometimes I care, sometimes I don't. But recently I found the sweetest guy to talk with and hang out with and I've found myself completely perplexed with the whole situation.


I started talking to the guy one of the strangest ways possible, but for the sake of the story all that matters is that he came from the internet. He expressed some interest and I expressed some back. We started chatting... and it has been so completely easy and comfortable. We flow from topic to topic effortlessly without those blank and akward moments of silence in between. It really is so much fun talking with him.


So clearly the next step would be to meet. I... the girl that never makes the first move, and surely does not invite guys out... asked him to hang out. We went to the park and sat by the water enjoying a sunset together. It was honestly very romantic. The weather was warm enough for short sleeves but cool enough that once the sun had passed I longed for his warm touch on my shoulders. We decided to prolong the evening and ended up eating dinner at one of my favorite restaurants. Still fun, playful, and enjoyable the entire evening through. Even as he dropped me home he had me laughing my ass off as I stepped out of his car.


We chatted as soon as he got home that night and laid the evening perfectly to rest. I keep thinking to myself - this is how it should be. Completely simple and enjoyable. I had him over the very next day just to be near him more. This has not been a sexual relationship. Granted, I am me, there is shameless flirting and teasing... but we've mainly held it together. We have yet to even kiss. I think that must come from his strong desire to be respectful. If it weren't for that... I'm starting to feel like a Catholic School Girl - not the overly eager, sexy thigh highs and plaid mini skirt kind either.


I laid in his arms watching tv just enjoying being close to someone like that. It felt so good, so completely safe. I could feel his strong, sexy chest through his incredibly soft cotton shirt. I could feel the satiny smooth skin of his hands and arms as they were running up and down my sides. The whole experience was melting me inside and out. I can't even describe the amount of comfort and love I feel just from laying with a man, this man.

... But it's not all right. At this point I think it is proving itself to me. Afterall, I am extremely sexual... so to have seen eachother these few times and still not have been sexual. Clearly something inside of me is trying to say this isn't that type of relationship. I think I hate it. I hate that voice! I want to rebel! Once again I am at a place where I completely disagree with myself. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I've met one of the sweetest, sexiest guys in the upstate area who is actually interested in me and my body says no. What the fuck!?! Not to say I never would sleep with him. ...Because the truth is if it falls right, I would sleep with him or be intimate with him easily... but it would have to fall perfectly into place.

I have expressed my feelings to him. I told him how I think friendship is all I can offer at this point. And being his normal, sweet, respectful self he hears me. Hold the fucking books!! .. He hears me!! I feel like that alone should place my body back on the right track to intimacy... But it doesn't. Once again, I feel broken! I'm truly pissed at myself... truly.

But I still want to be near him. For two days I have fought the urge to invite him over or out. It's like I'm stuck on him. I want to be near him and flirt with him and enjoy his company. I feel minutely insane! How can I not? How can I want to flirt and tease and seduce him... but not deliver? I really feel that would be unfair of me to do to him. He says it is fair. Is he insane too? Do guys really want to be teased knowing damn well there is little chance it will ever be delivered on? Friends are wonderful... this friend is wonderful... I don't want to jeopardize this friendship. What is fair in terms of a could-have-been relationship turned just friendship?

A Concept of Accountability

Does anyone actually do what they say they are going to anymore? I mean, I know men are men. But there has to be some degree of... 'I told this person I would see them, so I should see them'. Doesn't there???

So for those of you curious about my Monday night endeavors... they didn't happen. What the fuck do I care, honestly... my sexual needs are completely filled ... for now. But I went on my marry way as planned. I got out of work, hurried up and got to the gym so I could get done, was ready to get home and get cleaned up for the action. But knowing him... knowing how this always plays out, I texted him at the end of my workout to make sure it was all still on schedule.

It wasn't... of course. Why would I trust him? This man has shown me nothing but a lack of accountability. He has told me I was number one on his list and continued on to prove to me I really wasn't. And yet, I'm still blind to it. Someone hang me upside down and slap the shit out of me. Why can't I see? He says he wants to see me and I move shit around because the idea of being wanted stirs me so deeply. But I'm not really... it's just a fix. He reminds me of that everytime and I can't stop opening myself up to it. It's insanity, in the purest form.

... But he's not the only one. This chess game plays over and over in a rhythmic, pre-planned attack and everytime I fall into the trap that I think so many women must fall into. Why can't I see his moves ahead of time? Why can't I see that he is luring me in? He has no intention of coaxing me into a sweet lesson to be remembered but rather this vicious cycle of regret. I get ready... and wait. Does every woman do this? Do we all just wait? Do we all sit hating ourselves for believing? Do we wallow in self-pitty that we didn't see it coming? GAH! I beat myself up! And for what? Because this piece of shit couldn't have the foresight to think of me before making intercepting plans for our evening. I should have known! And worst... to ask why or how he could forget or plan without thinking of how it would affect... makes me into a clingy bitch. Then I'm the one in the wrong. I'm the one without a life because I planned for my stupid plans!!

I went back to gym once he finally texted me back asking to reschedule. BAH!!! Reschedule???? Are you insane!?! Well... yes, I am. But I even told him I didn't think rescheduling would work. I'm proud of myself. I'm proud of my anger. For once I stood on my own two and screamed softly back at him, "I will always be last on your list!" He texted back, "I understand."... he fucking understands and I know he will do it again next time.

Does anyone have a concept of accountability anymore? I curse myself for stereotyping, but why do men do this? Is this some sort of protection system? Why am I always made out to be the bad guy because someone else doesn't have enough respect? Fuck it, don't respect me... someone else will have the pleasure of my naked body against theirs! At least... until the next time he asks for me...

What Is A Failure?

This weekend felt much like what I would imagine a failure feels like... much like I expected it would feel when you get too happy, too pleased, and satisfied all that is left is a crash. Life, afterall, cannot always be happy, can it? There I was on my mountain of hidden gold just enjoying the view but I feel like I hit a mud slide, maybe not even just one but a series of them.

I guess there was never one really wrong thing but it just felt like nothing was going as planned, and the few things that stayed on track as planned didn't feel nearly as good as I had hoped. The weekend was supposed to be made up of dancing, excercising, and being near friends. The first event on the schedule was a boat trip with my cousin which, inevitably, was cancelled due to the rain. Instead I took a nap. This was really a good thing since all my time awake is sure to catch up with me at some point.

Then the plan was to take my cousin and roommate out to Singers, a local bar and karaoke hot spot just outside of Syracuse, where I was meeting up with some of my co-workers. This was probably the highlight of my weekend. I enjoyed a couple interesting new drinks and shamelessly flirted with the sexy-singing bartender. He had a smile that melted me with dimples, the adorable short spikey hair I'm dying to run my fingers through, incredible pecs that he was teasing us all with through his tight t-shirt, and a rocking ass. :P So I, of course, had to hit on him. My roommate suggested I ask him about making a 'wet pussy' and I did... it was really quite funny! Then after I drank my 'wet pussy', my 'purple rain', and my rum and Coke... I slurred over the bar to him. You're really fuckin' hot! He teased me asking if it was the 'purple rain' talking. I told him I thought it before the drink, that it was just helping me say it. HA! It was totally fun!

We left to go out dancing... but plans kept falling through. My roommate backed out of going. And shortly after we got out to start dancing my cousin wanted to leave. It proved to be a bit more than I could take. I got home just in time to flirt with my 38 year old friend and fall fast asleep. I woke up feeling the effects of the 'purple rain' and a bit pissed off about my previous evening. I figured for sure Saturday would be a better day.

We had plans to attend an exotic dance class and then go out dancing afterwards. I was super psyched about the class thinking how sexy and good I would feel about myself after the fabulous and costly workout.

I write this in the name of the honesty I proclaimed in my first-ever post. ... I took the day Saturday to relapse a bit into my previously diagnosed sexual addiction. It had been almost a month and a half since I had slept with anyone. Partially because I wanted the last him to be my one and only... and partially because sleeping around is just not healthy physically or emotionally. ... But I am weak when it comes to soldiers. I called up an old fuck buddy (soldier-friend) and asked if he wanted some. Of course he did! I sent a declaration text before I went over ... that I would not be leaving until he made me cum. I went to his house and laid with him on the couch for a short while before we were both teased enough to get ourselves up off the gorgeous leather couches and stumble to the back bedroom. It was quick and delicious... but I came so I really didn't care either way. I kept telling myself this was a physical need I was fulfilling. Was it? ... Can I say with 100% certainty that this fuck was only because my body couldn't stand to go without? I'm not sure.

The dance class was a bust. Not because the class wasn't fun... because it was. Watching the super hot dance instructor give us her demonstrations may have been worth the $22 alone. But having to watch myself in the mirror felt like a challenge from the moment I walked in. I felt so sick with myself. Here I have worked my ass off - literally, for the past 4 monthes... and staring into this mirror it felt like nothing. She would sway her tiny little hips and her ass would stick out. She'd instruct us to straighten our legs so our body would make the curvature that is so desirable. I just kept looking in the mirror wishing my body looked like hers, in disgust and disapproval that my body was curvy without making those hip motions... my ass already sticks out! I felt in that moment absolutely displeased with myself. It motivated me to want to go to the gym and work harder, but I walked away feeling like a piece of shit that thus far has accomplished nothing. I can assure you... this is not how I wanted to walk away from the class.

I went out after the class despite my shattered ego. Even more importantly... I went alone. This is absolutely unheard of for me and some would even consider it unsafe. I was to meet my friend downtown to share a martini before moving on to go dancing. I was paralyzed by my social anxiety disorder. I sat in my car waiting for my friend to arrive... wishing the minutes would tick by a little quicker. I was seeking someone's approval, any man's approval. I flipped through the numbers and names in my phone wishing one of them would jump out at me, wishing I knew one of them was reliable enough to be there to answer an IM or text on a Saturday evening. I found one. A guy from New Jersey... normally working on Saturdays was there. He answered and requested pictures of me. YES!!! ... I thought... this I can do. I jumped out of my minivan and snapped a few photos in the dim light of the parking garage. I sent them along for his review... and as always he was pleased. Very pleased!

The drinks at the bar were okay. I felt misplaced with this group of people on couches at a martini bar, I prefer cheap, sweet liquor you can't taste. I tried to fit. We eventually made our way across the street to go dancing. The crowd was so thick it was difficult to not step on toes. These people I was with... they were old-fashioned or something. I felt like some two cent hooker dancing beside them. I kept thinking... you have to use your ass... thats the point. I felt misplaced again. Finally the heat was over-baring and we started to make our way for the doors. Despite spending the entire time not being asked to dance... as I started to leave I was... I guess you might call it, attacked by a group of guys. One guy put his hand over my face and pushed my head down. I couldn't see where I was going, so not thinking anything of it, I stopped. I was instantly surrounded by a group of hot young guys. Had this been any other type of approach I would have loved the attention. One guy realized how large my breasts were and went nuts roaring "WHOOOAAA," as he looked at my tits bug-eyed ... and they jumpped on my like a group of monkeys on the last goddamn banana in the jungle. They pressed on me and touched me. And everytime I thought I could get away they pushed down my face again. Who the fuck was touching my face??? Why couldn't I step away? Just as I was about to be in tears I found an opening and slipped out. I caught up to my friend and said my goodbyes. This night proved to be way more than I could bare. I raced through downtown, with way too much skin exposed, all alone clutching my key in one hand and black velvet purse in the other. I made it to the comfort of my minivan where I burst into sobbing tears... it was too much, just too much.

Sunday I poured myself into men again. Still longing for my approval. I felt sick with me, sick with everything. I talked to a soldier from Ft. Drum... and as usual it turned into a sexual endeavor. Through most of our conversation I knew where it was headed. I made small adjustments to remind him I wasn't looking for a random romp, but really I didn't do or say enough. I teased him until, as he said it... "I seduced him into driving an hour and a half just to see me". I'm fine with that, I'm happy to have that power. I made playful attempts to say he may not get laid... but we both knew he would. We watched a movie where I spent most of the time in his lap rubbing his thighs and chest before making my way up his pant legs and then inevitably pulling him into my bedroom to fuck the shit out of him.

Well... there you go... sexual addiction at its finest. I was feeling so strong and now I feel like I've let it all go. And worse yet... tonight I have plans to see an ex and the sex portion is already planned out. I honestly can't wait because this ex-navy hottie is always incredible in bed!

So where the fuck did I lose it? How did I let this fabulously planned weekend turn to shit? I really shouldn't express complete disapproval for my sexual expiditions... because I did and do love them, I guess I just hate how I feel after sometimes. I hate the numbers, there is something to be said for a woman that is sexually confident... but I don't know if I should be proud or ashamed, and I think I lean toward shame. Was this weekend a failure? I don't want to sink much lower. I want to go back to my focus and stay strong!!

Focus and Determination...

You know those days in your life when somehow all the clutter clears away and the dream for your life almost seems within reach... maybe just barely at your finger tips right now. You're focused on exactly what you want and it seems nothing will shake your persistance. ... That's how I feel right now.

But that feeling only lasts so long. Somehow you get ripped from that momentum. You were on a perfect path and plan for what and who you wanted to be and something threw you down and told you 'you can't pass'. You want to pass... but you just can't get back up.

This week started at the end of my fabulous weekend. Problems seemed to ebb and flow as they always will but suddenly my ability to shake them became incredibly strong. Problems? What problems? ... Fuck the problems... because I decided I am going to be happy!!

Everyday this week I have excelled at finding my happiness. Yeah... there are moments when I feel totally worn down and depressed, but I'm able to burn off those feelings. I don't know how long this ability will last. I think a huge part of it has been going to the gym everyday. Its hard to find the energy to go after a long workday... but it's so good for me.

I feel so driven toward my goals. So compelled to be better, do better, and find better! So I run at least two miles... bike, lift weights, and swim too. I wish I could see the weight pouring off me like it did when I first started. I should be just so proud of the 40 I have lost thus far and I am... but I want more. So, fortunately, my fabulous new roommate and I have taken to the gym. We have decided to go Monday-Thursday and Saturday. I wake up every morning and my legs ache because I ran farther and faster than the day before... and I love the pain. Its like in the movie G.I. Jane where Master Chief says to Jordan, "Pain is your friend, your ally, it will tell you when you are seriously injured, it will keep you awake and angry, and remind you to finish the job and get the hell home. But you know the best thing about pain? It lets you know you're not dead yet!"

I'm in pain... and I'm happy. I'm dancing and living and loving my life. We only get to do it once right? Dear god I hope this fleeting moment of determination lasts a lifetime. How do you stay on course? How do you stay focused?

A Successful-Happy...

The weekend proved to be a good test of my new-found goal at happiness. I do think I faired quite well. It felt a much like a roller coaster though. There were moments when I felt pleased with myself and with my surroundings and moments when I succombed to the temptation to want beyond my current surroundings.

I started off by writing my list on Friday and hoping I could make the very best of all my weekend time - minus a male presence of course. I was quickly thrown back when an opportunity to be around a male presented itself and then was quickly taken away. For a moment I felt wanted, and as always that brings me to a sense of happiness. I have such a hard time being in on Fridays. I hate sitting alone watching the time pass. Truly, where does this come from? I have spent so many Friday and Saturday nights pissed off at my loneliness. Who says I have to be out doing something??

This time, I made a choice... I will ask someone and get the hell out. Mindful of the fact I won't go out alone, I looked to my best friend. She works on Fridays and Saturdays... which always makes this navagation a bit difficult. But I called anyway. I coerced her into going out after she got off work at 9pm. I offered to take her to the bar where she can ride the bull. Honestly... I think it's the stupidest damn thing and only the prettiest of the pretty can pull this damn thing off looking hott. I am not one of them.

We danced for nearly four hours instead of the planned two hours. I had my piece of happiness back... minus the male. Go me! :) She was slow to start dancing but I won her over... and we eventually even climbed up onto the speakers to be on show for all to see. I loved it... hit two items of my happiness list at once... yipee! I did feel spells of longing just to have someone dancing with me, but I shook them off and reminded myself just the dancing was enjoyment enough. I even found a new dance I'm totally into... called the Cupid Shuffle. I had to turn and watch others since this was only my second time hearing it, but it was a blast!

Saturday, I lounged around my apartment and ran around doing some errands. Until I got a call from my cousin hoping to come over again. We ended up joining a party across the apartment courtyard. There was probably more alcohol involved than I think is really needed. But I got to meet some new people and be social... again, it was a very enjoyable evening.

Sunday, I spent a few hours lounging by the pool and swimming. God, it was glorious! I love everything about swimming! It feels good and its healthy, how could you go wrong? I went home to cook something I had never made before. Penne with Vodka Sauce... and yes, it came out yummy!

I don't know how long I'll be strong. Today I feel lonely. I keep wondering why my phone is not vibrating, why no one is thinking of me. I'm trying to remind myself how unnecessary this concern is and how silly I am being. But... in the name of honesty, I'm having a hard time avoiding the feelings. So I already tried to book a date with my roommate for the gym this evening. I'm trying to focus on my work and keep my mind occupied with music.

All-in-all, I think It was a good weekend. But can I keep it up?? ...wish me luck!

What Makes Me Happy???

Ok... so everyone keeps telling me over and over how I need to be happy with me. I need to find happiness with myself. I need to love me before I can love anyone else.


Holy fuck... does anyone actually know how to do any of this? I want to be happy. I truly believe that's what we were put on this planet to do. Find our happiness, figure out what makes us smile more than anything else and do it as much as physically possible. I love to smile. I love the things that totally fill me with joy when they happen... now if I could only figure out what they are.


So, here is my attempt at that list. I need to try to be as selfish as humanly possible because one of my largest problems is I'm always doing for others. I don't clean because it feels good in my space when I do... I do it because someone is coming over or to protect someone's image of me. I'm always doing what I think someone else will want of me.


One of my biggest challenges along with being selfish, will be to think about things I can do when I'm alone. I am on my own now. Men can come and go, but the only person I can really count on is me, so that's what I need to do. I do, however, have social anxiety-disorder. This makes me hate being alone. I feel lost, lonely, judged, and paniced being alone. I have been on medication for it in the past, but right now I'm in a place in my life where I feel the best thing I can do for me... is to be me. Even my flaws need to be a reality right now.


Another part of this list is going to be why something makes me happy, because lets face it... not everything that makes us happy is good for us. Being drunk can be exhilerating but if I'm doing it so that I don't feel, it might not be a healthy or wise choice.


So, here is my list:

1. Being near water - I love watching the water shimmer and dance in the sun, the smell when it is fresh and clean, and I like feeling the air blowing and making my hair dance.


2. Dancing - I love the music, the excercise, the ambiance, learning something new, watching others, and the attention I get.


3. Painting - I love the finished product, knowing that I made something beautiful that I am proud of, having something to put on my walls, the feel of the paint gliding on the blank canvas, and washing off the smudges I seem to get all over me that feel like war paint.


4. Drawing Abstracts - I love coming up with a good idea for an abstract, figuring out the color pattern, using the ruler and compass to make it perfect, flipping through my book and knowing I did damn good work, and when others look at my book and tell me how nice they are.


5. French Tips - I love getting my nails done because they make me feel sexy and elegant even when I am wearing jeans, I love that I can bare my toes and have the sexiest little feet.


6. Tanning - I love laying in the sun... feeling the warmth pour into me, how soft my skin is after, how good I feel in my clothes, how blonde my hair gets, and feeling sexy in my own skin.


7. Photography - I love taking pictures of almost anything, the capturing of the beautiful stillness of a flower or fruit, love standing back and admiring my work, love that when I take pictures of me all I hear is how beautiful I am, knowing my ability to manipulate a photo into something more or something less, and knowing I choose who sees.


8. Running - I hate getting up the energy to go but once I've done it I feel like I've conquered the world, seeing the awesome results I get, hearing the compliments, and feeling the muscles in my legs ache tomorrow (honestly, this is so important because it reminds me I did good!).


9. Getting Fit - I have lost about 35lbs so far and I am so proud of myself for it because I have worked my ass off, knowing I can achieve something if I want it badly enough, hearing someone tell me they are proud of me, and running my hands down my sides and loving that curve.


10. Being Wanted - This is a happiness I get from others and thus is not the best, but it is very big for me. I like knowing someone is thinking about me, the idea that someone is getting pleasure from who I am or what I can give. I invest too much time and effort into this.


11. Cooking Experiments - I love making something new that sounds incredible, using all the different tools I have in my kitchen, hearing the compliments after it comes out well, and tasting that I did a good job.


12. Cats - I love watching my boys run back and forth through the apartment, I call this 'rip-assing'. I love when they forget to brake in time, love hearing their feet pound the floors, seeing their tails bounce, and seeing their ears pointed back.


13. Farms - I love seeing all the animals on a farm, learning about the equipment, feeling the dirt in between my fingers, listening to all the sounds that come from it, feeding all the animals and getting sticky, slobbered on fingers, the peaceful setting, the stability of something that has been around a long long time and won't be going anywhere fast, and some of the smells... call me crazy, but it's natural.


14. Views - I love being really high up and seeing the view. Be it a plane, a mountain top, a para-sail... I like seeing all the earth that is around me and how tiny things become.


15. Jet-Skiing - OMG... I love this! I love the feel of the water, the speed, the vibrations from the motor, the chance at seeing marine life, the wind blowing my hair, and the fear that I'm going to tip over.


16. Music - I love the kind that fills you up and gives you a catharsis, the emotions you feel being let out in words, the way my hips feel compelled, and the beat that I can't help but move to.


17. Orgasms - I couldn't leave this out, because honestly, how could I claim to be as I am if this weren't something that thrilled me. I love the anticipation, the friction, the heat, the way it is sooooo hard for me to stay quiet... dare I say 'impossible', nearing climax and feeling like I'm about to do this amazing thing, feeling my entire body release everything, how completely drenched I get, catching my breath when I cum so hard it takes five minutes, knowing I just made someone's day, and starting it all over again.

Ok... so that's my list for now. I may add as I think of more. But hopefully this will give me some ideas on what I should be doing besides obsessing about boys and the dating world.