Smashing good day everyone. 🙂 BBQ was fun at C+S’s, though we were still perplexed how majority of the people in the group (‘cept for the baby of the group, sara) are in their late 20s/early 30s and we STILL separated into boy/girl groups. How the hell does that work?
HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOO. There was some group herpes action going around too.
So, I’ll talk about the date last night and since it includes some of my feelings, which are pretty consistent with BPD, I’m sticking it under a LJ-CUT
So IG#4 (his name is Sam) and I had been talking about meeting for a bit and finally agreed yesterday was the big date. We were going to meet at the GR Public Museum at 2pm, walk around and hit the planet-airum, do dinner, and then whatever. But plans kept changing because of the weather. So, I caught him online late yesterday morning and asked if he could bring the Whit Stillman movies with him that I didn’t own so that we could (if things went well), watch them later in the evening. Little did I know finding the movies would take several hours and by the time he hit grand rapids, it was already nearing 4:30pm.
We decided to meet at Barnes and Noble, to be “pretentious elitist asshats” (my words) on books. He had told me what he was wearing, and I had seen him walking down the middle of the parking lot as I was turning in. Since I had told him I was somewhat of a crazy driver, I gunned my engine and went tearing down the parking lot with the intent of stopping a few feet from him. He had gotten to the front of the store before I got close to him, but I did end up getting an awesome parking spot. I walked up, we shook hands, and entered the store.
For dress up, I opted to go super casual. I knew if I got “ho-banged up” (sara’s words), “hooched up” (jen”s words) or “tarted up” (my words), I’d be uncomfortable. I opted for my “Reading is Sexy tshirt,” with a pink camisole peeking underneath with my favorite jeans and these adorable cork wedge sandals I just bought that matched the shirt. My hair I left down (because I’m constantly being told people like it down better than up) and makeup was fairly minimal. I carried my clutch bag, which doubles as my bar purse, since I didn’t want to carry my normal everyday bag.
Things went off to a good start, lots of eye contact, body language was pretty groovy, and he got fairly smartassed which caused him to get smacked by my clutch bag at least once and a jokey argument almost lead to a banging of each other with coffee table books.
We were both getting pretty hungry, but he reallllllllllllly wanted to go to Vertigo (the local indie record store), which I resisted since going to Vertigo usually means I drop several hundreds of dollars and I can’t afford that. He promised to make it a quick trip, which I started twitching as I had already picked out a CD from the used bin that I wanted. I put the CD back and he paid for his purchases. We stopped at the video store next door to Vertigo and perused the foreign flicks since we are both fans and then headed off to Mikado for Sushi.
Mikado’s was closed, so I dropped him off at his car, lead him to my house to park his car and we then drove to Bombay for Indian (cos I’m lazy like that). Food was good, conversation was excellent. We split two dinners, lots of naan and samosas. We headed back to my place, I had him meet part of the posse (Jen, Mindy, and Kate). We walked the pugs, got settled in for movies.
We watched Metropolitan and Heathers, and literally spent the majority of the time separated by three pugs who decided to make it their business to lay all over Sam. No major flirting going on, really, our body language was pretty open but no one initiated anything. I was not about to (trying new theory of being less aggressive upon the first approach). But still, I wasn’t sure. During our last two weeks of conversation, I wasn’t sure if he was interested in me in a friend sort of way or in a romantic sort of way, so I asked him outright and he said romantic. But, he didn’t really flirt with me and I was getting highly self-conscious about it.
When the movies ended, we spent another couple of hours talking. We had been talking all night, even through the movies, and it was highly entertaining. He even commented it was a shame that we watched the second movie because he enjoyed talking to me so much and that he lusts after women he can hold conversations with. My library and musical tastes also rated big points with him as I apparently got cooler by the minute.
I wasn’t nervous. Which was weird, it just seemed we clicked on so many levels before with talking being with him just seemed natural.
So about 2:30a or so, it was getting late and we decided to call it a night. He wasn’t sure about seeing me again today (Monday) as he had to be at his parents later in the afternoon and he made plans for earlier in the day. He did say he wanted to spend next weekend with me as he’ll be in Grand Rapids helping a friend move and we are pseudo going to the Festival together. Apparently.
We walked ThePugKids for their nightly constitutional and brought them back in. We tap danced in my dining room for a bit and I could feel the tension getting tighter, the sexual tension. I wasn’t sure if I should just go lay one on him or what, when he did this swoop thing towards me that looked like he was going to kiss me but didn’t. I walked him down the stairs, as I had to lock up the front door, when he leans in like he’s going to kiss me. I step back and look at him, “Are you going to kiss me this time or are you going to do that swoop thing like you did before?” I eyed him suspiciously. He laughed and said no, he was really going to kiss me this time and we conked our heads as we went the same way. Giggled and went in for the kill.
Before I know it, I’m pinned up against the wall, hands above my head with his leg driven up to my crotch. It went from all friendly polite gentlemanly behaviour to BOOM. You could cut the sexual tension with a Ginsu and it would become dull. We’re throwing each other around my foyer like rag dolls and I’m surprised (literally) and didn’t come and see if I was okay we were THAT loud.
Hand, lips, bites, scratches. It was war and we both wanted to win and lose. I snaked my hand up underneath his tshirt and raked my nails down his back. He arched, moaned and said “I didn’t know I’d like that.” At one point, he was trembling, and I kept remembering saying to him was “Sam, sam, it’s okay, it’s okay.” For awhile we stood wrapped in each others arms in the foyer. I had ripped off his button down (good thing it was snap buttons) and his jacket and backpack were scattered on the floor. We were wrapped in each others arms with my head buried on his chest. He mumbled in my ear, “It feels to good to have you in my arms.” I smiled to myself and told him the only thing I wanted was to lay next to him, cuddled, in bed. No sex. He agreed he wanted that too. We tear back up the stairs and once we hit my dining room, bam, I was thrown up against the wall and we were all over each other again.
I stopped at some point and said, I can’t do this. He kept promising to be a gentlemen and I kept telling him, It’s not you, it’s ME! I can’t have a guy in my bed, whom I like and find myself sexually attracted to and NOT WANT TO RIP HIS CLOTHES OFF AND BAT HIM AROUND MY BEDROOM LIKE A RAGDOLL. Ahem. So there was that. He told me he wanted to see me again, and soon as possible.
Then I made the typical fatal mistake:
“Sam, what’s next.”
He kept going over and over about how much he liked me, and he thought i was incredibly groovy and how much he wanted to see me again. Because he works second shift, weekends were the only option. And he promised he’d see me next weekend for Festival.
But he got the deer caught in the headlights look. Things were getting really intense between us really quickly. Not just sexually (who knew?) but intellectually and mentally as well. While I was “into the moment” when we were all over each other, I kept conscious of how far I was “willing” to go. Like some level of me wanted nothing more then to unzip his pants, with the outside door wide open, and blow him until the sun came up. I wanted to just shed skin and crawl inside him. But we remained clothed.
Tag: Relationships
Can Lisa ever be happy?
My brother and I were sitting on opposite couches last night discussing the fate of our lives. It seemed that for every few good steps we take forward, we get pushed back another five. When the topic turned to relationships, he started cracking walnuts and I felt like it was some kind of sign.
On my way home from Denver, I flew through MLPS. A young couple with a child were in the seats next to me, with me taking the aisle seat (preference for leg room). The overhead bulkhead was closed and I thought perhaps they had already filled it with stuff as I needed a place for my messenger bag. But when I popped it open to verify, it was empty. After placing my bag up in the bulk hold, I noticed the father (presumedly) struggling with bags at his feet. I asked if he’d like for me to place that stuff in the bulkhead for him. He was quite rude while declining, and I just shrugged as I sat down. During the trip, the child was quiet and when it started to whimper a bit, the mother started breast feeding him.
I was a bit taken aback by the whole experience, especially since they apparently felt uncomfortable around me. The father and I kept jostling to not touch each other during the 1.5 hour flight. I kept to myself, leaning towards to the aisle with my book and my legs on the far left side. Megan and I were lolly gagging around the luggage carousel when I noticed the mother staring at me. I have no idea why she was so intent in me, but apparently one good deed for the day was enough to warrant the evil eye.
My brother and I were watching About A Boy last night as we talked. Our conversation stilted while we watched what was happening on screen and then would rev up again. I felt like I’m living in a glass jar. Being watched and scrutinized by those around me. I’m falling between cracks I never thought possible.
My birthday is coming up and I’ll be turning 32. I’m feeling the pressure of not having consumed enough or done enough by my early 30s. I should have my masters by now! I should be married! I should have kids! I should be doing a hundred and one different things and not worrying about whether or not a group project is being completed or if my grades will be good enough. I feel like I can’t relate to anyone in my age bracket and especially to women who are all walking that normality line that I’ve swerved so damn far from.
Everyone keeps asking me how Denver went. My monosyllabic answer of “Good!” or “Great!” seems to not fulfills their demands. I’m not sure what to say because in the end, I still have no answers to my questions. So perhaps I’ll start with what I perceive to be the truth and take it from there.
If you were not aware, Patrick had (has) three jobs. He own(ed)s part of a local company in Denver and does contract work for two others. I knew that while this was to be *my* vacation, for him, it was to be a hellish week of work. He was/is currently in flux with the local company, with him quitting the company half-way through my trip. One of his bosses for the contract work showed up prior to my arrival and left the morning I arrived.
He kept Patrick on a tight leash, calling at all hours of the day and night to get things completed. Many “dates” we had were broken by us driving to downtown Denver to work on shit at the colo, many plans disintegrated because his work schedule. Coupled with both of us being sick as dogs, tensions were high. Verbal fisticuffing ran rampart. It was terrible.
Verbal fisticuffing is the term I use when Patrick starts pushing my buttons, making smartass comments that only ignite me to push HIS buttons and make comments. This gets nasty really quick. There were no holds barred accounts where I let both guns fly. This was not the sound of a “happy couple” at all, rather, of people who could barely tolerate each other. It was distressing.
I grew tired of this game quick, opting to keep my mouth shut when he started which only defused him, which was the point. I was beginning to feel like an object, not a person. I whittled away the hours while he worked suffering on the couch with the illness that would not go away. After he would get done with work, he would spend a few hours playing video games on his PC. He would occasionally check up on me and make sure I had things I needed and that I was still breathing, but I did not feel like I was being comforted enough. Like something was missing, and I never really knew what it was.
The sex was interesting. Taking into account the stress from work, being sick and other shit going on, I didn’t care about those things. I wanted the sex to be as hot and passionate as it was the last time we were together. It wasn’t. Perhaps I’m rare, but despite all the emotional bullshit he was going through, I wanted him to treat me like he did before and he didn’t. I was getting tired (and bored) of always initiating it. And it wasn’t that he was not affectionate or showed affection to me, he did, but when it came to the actual act, it was always ME who had to take charge. Always, always always. Then the issues came up. According to him, his exes were dead lays. No imagination, passion or interest other than things vanilla. Things had to be done a specific way at specific times, heaven forbid that anything deviate from that pattern. Me? I’m not like that. By a long shot. And I tried. Tried to make him feel loved, wanted and needed. I introduced new things, taking baby steps. Nothing seemed to work as sex always ended with me on top.
Always.
love, actually
I’ve been living alone for exactly one year and one day. How nuts is that?
Go lisa, get your groove on! It’s your birthday!
I want to fall in love.
I’m ready to fall in love.
I couldn’t think of a good segue into this, but it’s true. I spent a lot of time with my maiden aunts recently, and I really don’t want to end up like them: bitter, desperate, clinging to the past. I want to love and be loved. I want to feel close with someone and feel their closeness. I want to rip apart the facades we put up as we approach people and feel their need for me as such as I need them.
It’s a very scary thought, thinking about allowing myself to be vulnerable — to willingly strip away all the barriers and just let it go. On the same hand, it’s also powerful feeling.
Makes me feel invincible.
I just want to be seriously and insanely in love. I learned a lot of lessons this year living alone. I learned I could do it by myself and I learned I could handle living alone without getting lonely. I learned I could love my friends and keep them close to me and I had great tolerance for my family. I learned how to let go of people who were not good for me.
I also learned that I like to take care of people. This was not something to be ashamed of, as I once thought it to be, but it’s actually a strength. The tricky part is when to know the difference between taking care of someone and mothering them to death: a problem I had with Paul. I think that because Paul was not responsive to return this in kind, I started to regret doing it. That regret became resentment. But when I’m with my mom and I help her, and I worry about her, I realise that I genuinely like doing this for her. She appreciates me, she’s proud of me, and she loves me. This is a step with my mother I never in a million years I thought I would see, but it happened. It did. I’m glad that our relationship is taking such leaps and bounds and that I no longer feel the resentment i used to feel towards her. There is always some strain, but it’s over ridiculously minute shit that it’s not even worth the bother anymore.
The year was spent in a lot of retrospection, a lot of people watching and a lot of getting to know who and what I am. It’s very tough to learn who
and what you are, but one of the biggest lessons I learned this year:
Don’t let the career goals overtake personal goals.
Very important is this one. Ironically (or shamefully enough), I was watching Charmed and one of the minor characters said to Phoebe something about how her generation of women were so focused on being independent and career orientated that they forgot about their personal relationships. Here were all these women in their 40s/50s who had no one to celebrate lifes things with them. I got choked up about that one. Really. No lie. I really don’t want to be like my aunts. Ages 60, 59 and 46. All bitter and desperate. Every single one of them. Two of them had the gall to tell me that I was too old to have babies at the age of 31. Can you believe this shit? Too damn old to have babies. I do want kids, someday. Just not right this second.
Love.
It’s a powerful word. Is there anyone in mind I’m thinking of as I write this? If I say yes, then someone will think I’m going too far, pushing boundaries we never really explored before. If I say no, then I could be lying. So I’ll say maybe. I’m not saying I’m in love with someone NOW, I am saying that if it happens, I won’t push it away, like I have so many times before.
Patrick and I were talking about sex the other night and he asked me, “When was the last time you had great sex?” I replied, “If I was being a bitch, 1992 or 1993.” “Damn,” he said, “That’s cold.” Even though we were on the phone, I nodded almost violently. One part of me felt like it was the truth, the other part of me felt like it was a lie. I HAVE had good sex since then, but, there was something always missing.
Things I didn’t think about then, that I realise now. Parts of me that wish that I could turn back the clock to repair those moments, be more attentive to my ex-lovers, instead of being hateful or mean as I was wont to do. Communicate more to them my own needs instead of expecting them to take charge and know what I want. Many mistakes were made on both sides. I do not put the blame solely on them, however, they do have their faults.
So then this leads me to thinking about sex, and what my sexual needs are. I think a lot of it has to do that I often find myself at odds with how I want to feel as compared to as how I really feel. I don’t have a problem being assertive towards someone, I have a problem when the person EXPECTS it always to be me to lead the way. I don’t have a problem being kinky, I do have a problem when it’s always that way. I don’t have a problem with lack foreplay, but I do have a problem if that is all I want and the person isn’t willing to do even that. I do believe in the tit-for-tat love life: If I go down on you, you return the favour. I just don’t get why so many guys are hung up on simply not returning the favour.
Sensuality, that’s a big. A huge one. In my early twenties, I thought it was all about hard, head banging against the wall kind of sex. Instant gratification now. Damned their needs, mine had to be taken care of first. But then I was so about control during the sexual relationship, my needs never really got met. Orgasms? Hrm. Good question. One person has been able to give me clitoral orgasms other than myself, one other gave me vaginal orgasms. A minute percentage of my lovers, isn’t that sickening? The irony about the one person who gave me vaginal orgasms, is that I didn’t really particularly care for him. We were dating, we were even living together, but it was a bad relationship and bad times. He also had a fetish for getting fucked up the ass with a dildo, so much so, he preferred that to actually having intercourse with me.
But I digress.
I realised I’m not a casual sex kind of person. If I’m going to sleep with you, it has to mean something. It has to denote something. A beginning of something, hopefully not an end. I can’t just sleep with random men to fulfil my needs because part of my needs is that I have to be attracted both physically AND mentally. I’ve said this nine hundred times before: you want to get into my pants, engage my mind. Yet no one listens. This is why I prefer being talked dirty to or having dirty stories read to me in bed rather than seeing porn — I’m not a visual person to get turned on sexually. This is one of the reasons why I’ve always been a big fan of phone sex.
I need all my senses on fire.
I also realised I’m not a dating kind of person. This means, I can’t just casually date someone. I’ve tried that and it doesn’t work. I want to crawl under the skin and get to know them and what makes them tick. That’s the challenge. I need to have their attention on me and my attention on them. It’s fearful isn’t? Almost intimidating, but, this works for me. I need to meet someone and know that if we are “talking” that they are talking to me and no one else. Monogamous from the start. It’s not that I’m jealous or insecure, it’s just that it takes so much damned energy to get to know someone, to spread it out over several someones just seems ridiculous to me.
It’s been said that men are logical creatures, romance goes out the window a lot of the times. In conversations with my brother and his friend tonight seem to mark that as being true. My brother said he never saw me as the getting married type, and while I can see where he is coming from to say that, I feel that he is wrong. I just don’t think I’m the type for a
“conventional” marriage. Not in the white picket fence, 2.5 kids and 3 dogs way. That is not me. Is marriage? Yes, it is.
My dating experiences this year were minute, at best. But they were powerful. I was able to find a lot about what I wanted from these few experiences. Will I jump back in the dating ring again? Not in the tractional sense, no.
I’m braver, stronger and more assured now. Something I could not say a year ago. Not even six months ago. I’m not willing to be with someone for the sake of being someone and I’m not willing to be with someone if they do not feel the same as I do. I’m not willing to risk my life with someone who isn’t willing to risk themselves for me. Because it will never work out.
A lot has changed over the this past year, internally, with me. I was able to face a lot of fears, take risks romantically and pull out when it wasn’t working. I was able to look at someone I loved for 15 years and tell him I was not going to sleep with him even when it was offered. Can you imagine, how incredibly hard and painful that was to do that? But I knew he wasn’t going to fuck me because it was “me,” he was going to fuck me because I was available pussy. I cried and cried and cried. When the end came, and he wanted to do the friendship with benefits routine, I told him on the phone I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be this person who randomly was available for quick and easy sex, because it would be, to me, just meaningless and empty sex.
I hung up on him. Never heard from him again. Never slept with him either. The only saving grace to my ego is that all he has to remember me is one of my internationally known blow jobs, ones that he remembered after all these years. He received two from me recently. Frightening isn’t it when your memory is reduced to a blow job?
Regardless of how that relationship worked out, it was needed, no matter what my friends said. I had to see him and confront him and gamble. I learned by my interaction with him just what kind of woman I was. I liked who I have became, that I was willing to risk it all for love and to walk away with no regrets when I wasn’t the person for him. That will be something I want to teach my children, to take risks. Take that chance. You never know what could happen.
I want to be with someone who is a risk taker, who is willing to gamble. Who isn’t afraid of being with me and knowing that being with me is not something entirely simple. I want someone who has goals, dreams and energy. Who, sexually, isn’t afraid of being sensual/passionate one night and slutty the next.
I always argued that I was a simple person, and I still think that is true. I just think my simplicity is different because I have so many layers. I used to think they were barriers or walls, Throw up so many, become defensive when accosted on something, toss it away and walk away being called a cold-hearted bitch. But, in retrospect, that isn’t true. We are often scared of what we do not understand, and I think much of the bad juju I got from exes is that they could not understand me and or they were frustrated when they thought they could “read me” and it was wrong. Or I did something that was different from previous interaction with me. But that, my dears, is part of my charm.
I do not feel like the bitter old lady that I often portray, I feel brave and hopeful. More hopeful than I had in years. I was able to get rid of a lot of demons this year, ones that I never knew existed and I’m able to be more up front about what I want and what I want.
Yeah.
PS: Masturbation lately has been in overtime. Self-realization has kicked my libido into over gear even more so and it’s driving me bat shit. Marathon masturbation sessions lasting over an hour have been common in this house. I’m telling you, I feel mightily sorry for the next guy I date because he is NOT going to know what has hit him.
x0x0xx
damn you, Freud!
I’m blaming Freud for all my ill will right now, even though he is indirectly related. If he hadn’t come up with the cockamamie scheme of psychoanalysis, and if his children hadn’t spawned it, it would not have been part of my Intro To Lit Theory class that I had to take this past semester.
I can still see the textbook, flipped open to that page, discussing how individuals who tend to change things about themselves rather frequently have this: unstable sense of self.
In short, they have no idea who the hell they are!
Sound familiar?
It’s been the anathema of my life, really. (Would have you know that it pays to look up words that you are not sure the spelling of. I almost had “anthema” — which means to blossom. Amazing what one little letter does.)
It’s days like this that I need to take stock on what and who I am. So
let’s begin:
- I’m 31.
- I have my own apartment, stocked full of materialistic goodies.
- Brand new 04 car.
- Two pugs.
- Family that loves me (even when they get on my nerves).
- Exes who come and go out of my life, but overall general good relations.
- I have 90/60 blood pressure, all my own teeth, hair is not greying and I’ve lost 30lbs this year.
- Never been to prison, have my GED, going to colleg,e and tend to keep myself out of trouble.
- Friends, far and wide, who love me.
So why, then, am I not happy?
I’m on this middle ground and it’s driving me crazy! Of course. On one hand, all of my friends (real and virtual) are shacking up and getting married, having babies and of COURSE I am happy for them. But. I’ve been down that road before and it’s not really something I care to get into again. I’ve lived with enough men, had enough proposals and what not for any woman in her own lifetime.
Yet there is this underlying and unquenchable thirst to NEED. But what is it that I need?
What. Is. It. That. I. Need. To. Make. Me. Happy.
I found that my own paradigm of thought was more different than others this year during classes. I did just as well as some of the best students but the train of thought that I would follow was never the same as the others. At first this disturbed me, because I thought I was wrong (if you are not following the herd, then you must be — right?) Later, as the grades start pouring in and I was doing just as well as they were, I realised I was right to continue on this path. But my path was different and while I embraced the difference, it felt like it was reflecting really my life as a whole.
Because I’ve never, ever, done anything by the book.
As you already may know.
2003 was about looking for who I was, to dismiss everything that made me feel icky and take me by the horns. I needed to heal and I needed to get my shit together, and consciously I did that. I made concrete decisions and found out WHO I was, after all this time. I took chances that I would have never taken before and I resisted things that I knew would end up
hurting me. Most of this, of course, resulted in my choices of men. I was no longer going to date someone simply because they were interested in me, rather, I was going to make sure that I was interested in them. Also, I was not going to allow myself to make decisions based on my loins either. Which was difficult to do.
So who is Lisa?
This is ironic, but, I was watching Charmed a few weeks back (via Tivo, of course) and one of the minor characters said to Phoebe (one of the major ones, if you don’t watch it) that so many women of her generation wanted to be independent and have careers, and when it came down to it, they were finding themselves in their 40s and 50s, alone. Not sharing their success with anyone because no one was around. That saddened me, because that was the life (or one of the lives) I had predicted for myself. I was (and to an extent) so thoroughly tired of relationships, I wanted nothing more than to be alone. But that is not working out EITHER, as I have discovered.
Another really cheesy thing I had read somewhere, was how if you spend so much time looking for yourself, you end up losing yourself. Life is in the here and now, and with that I do agree. This is why I dismiss most of the crackpot shrinks, drugs and what not, because I’ve been following their plan for the last 20 years and where did it get me? Bwahahah! More confused than ever!
But what it is about ‘me’ that is so uniquely different than everyone else? Oh, I know the old saying “You’re different than everyone else” but, I can’t keep feeling that somehow I’m ‘more different’ than those other unique people. I’m not sure if it is because they found someone to be happy with, or what the case is, but you know, this shit is for the birds!
I’m a lot stronger than I was a year ago. I’m a lot more positive and yes, in many aspects I’m happier, a lot happier. But the bottom line is, there is still something missing that needs to make me fulfilled and I really, REALLY wish I knew what that was.
x0x0x
Lisa
ps: I dismiss the crackpot theory about the unstable sense of self, because like most theories, it tends to generalize and not be concrete.
I have loved you for 15 years!: Miguel Part IX
disclaimer:
Alright, I just got home. Those pics of me and him were taken within the last couple of hours and I look like hell. But I do want to say this again: I had NO INTENTION of finding him to hook up again. While I agree that it looks and smells like a duck, it’s not a duck. While familiarity may breed ground, it’s been 10 YEARS! I’m not that desperate or lonely to look up an ex just because I’m single. Let’s say that other revelations that came out today were also not planned. Just because it smells like a duck, quacks like a duck, it may not necessarily be a duck.
Just, please, don’t judge. Just support me no matter what, okay?
———-
Within the last couple of days, I came to realization of a few things.
I thought to myself, I’m nearly 32 years old. I’m single. I have a string of relationships that have failed behind and while there is some that would have failed, why wasn’t I married yet? Why was I overly picky about the guys I dated and then it dawned on me. Really, it was quite clear.
It was because of Miguel.
Everything just suddenly made fucking SENSE!
Same thing with why I made my name on the internet. It was not that I did not necessarily care per se BUT that I wanted him to find me.
I waited for 10 fucking years.
Jesus. Yah, I got on with life, dated etc but that part inside of me was always waiting for him to show up at my door (and he’s the type to do it).
I’m a sentimental old romantic aren’t I?
I promised myself that no matter what, I was not going to spill this out to him today. It just wasn’t my place to say it. It wasn’t. So I tried not to say it.
But i told him all of this, all of this and more.
———-
He was good on the tattoos. Didn’t say a peep. Dawned on me earlier this afternoon that he hadn’t said a damned word. I asked. “I got over it.” He said. Woah. I was impressed. He means what he says and he says what he means. This was a new one for me. I looked at him with new eyes.
It was never really about the damn tattoos. It was about me being back in his life again, like gangbusters.
———-
I don’t know how it all began, and in a way I do. I know we were coming back from Chicago and were in MI and we were talking about US again. That whole concept of us. The GF had called a few times during the day, and i had curled up in my seat reading my book, not saying a peep. They didn’t sound like bf/gf, to me. We talked more about them and I said:
“look, i’m saying this objectively and it may not come out that way because of my interest in it, I admire that you want to make your relationship with Sarah work BUT there comes a time and a place where you have to make yourself happy. I did that with paul. I worked my ass off because I did not WANT to fail at that relationship and after a while, I lost who I was. I was living through him to make it work and while he did change, it wasn’t working out that way. It never does.”
He said “I never thought about that way.”
Later on, he kept saying “I need to feel you out. I need to know who you are.”
“You can’t have your cake and eat it too, you know.”
“Oh, well what do you mean by that?”
“Look, you can’t keep seeing me in GR, even as ‘friends’ and then if it doesn’t work out, you can’t go ‘oh well! I have Sarah in MO.”
“DAMN GIRL! You are devious! I never thought of that. Damn.” He said quietly, “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“You already have.”
———-
Then I started crying.
———-
A torrent opened within him out came the things that I never expected to hear ever in my lifetime.
I was his “little fabrage egg” (exact words) when he was with me. I was not in his world, I was pristine and proper and had no idea to what was going on. He kept me at a distance when we were together because he didn’t want me involved in that world. My house and my arms were his safe haven. He wanted to protect me and at the same time, so much shit was going down that he needed to get his life together and keep emotional attachments at bay. He could be himself with me. The relationships that followed were all disposable, even the 7 year long one. There was no real committment. While he had not said it in so many words, I gathered he had been in love with me all these years.
“Don’t you see,” I said, “What this means?”
“Hrm?”
I explained about the relationships. I explained what they meant to me. Yes, I loved them, but it wasn’t the same. I was not in love with them, and probably never was.
“I’ve been in love with you for 15 years!!”
Yes Lisa, you don’t beat around the bush do you.
“Do you see now why I can’t be ‘just friends’ with you?”
“Yes, now it all makes sense why you were so cagey about it.”
Silence followed.
I sniffled.
“I wish I could put you and Sarah together so that you two would be the perfect girl. No one would get hurt. I just don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“You already have.”
More tears followed.
I said something like this.
“I’ve been in love with you for 15 years. I knew about what was going on then and it doesn’t matter. I just wanted to be with YOU, to be loved by you. To be yours. Don’t you get it? I got tired of waiting for your ass. I had to find you.”
I said a lot more, but it’s all hazy now.
“I don’t deseve you or your love. It’s like going downstairs at Christmas morning, expecting one present and finding five. I’m a loser. Yah, I’ve cleaned up, I’m legit. I do my own thing. But everyone around me, is a facade. I’m the fat funny guy everyone likes. I can pick up and leave at a moments notice. Sarah? She’s disposable. They DONT KNOW ME like you know me. You are the only one who has known me before and after and when I’m with you, I feel I want to be a better man. I feel like I need to earn and make you worthy, for I am not. You need someone worthy of your love and I’m pond scum. I deal with pond scum. I have never had anyone tell me anything like this ever in my life. I don’t feel like I need to put up a facade. I can be myself around you. It’s not that it’s uncomfortable, because you and I have always been homies, it’s that it’s weird. In my head, it’s still 1989. Do you understand? You need to date a geek.”
“I”m almost 32 years old, do you NOT understand I know what I want and don’t want? That I’ve dated enough men to know who is worthy of me and who is not. I love you. Do you think I PLANNED on falling in love with a long-haired harely riding trucker?”
“I can’t believe I Just told you that. I have NEVER told anyone that before and I can’t believe I just voiced all of that to you, even though that is what I have always thought.”
I said nothing.
He held my hand while he drove.
———-
There was so much more that was said, so much more that I wish I could have written down and have it, but never did. Things were clicking in my head faster than I could count. The world seemed clearer and more concise. I told him, that if it didn’t work out between us, I was really okay with that. I tried. I was HIS white knight, came to save him, instead of being the white knight to everyone else. He replied that was true. He wants to be worthy of me and lead a better life. He was closing doors down to get rid of any last residual. He’s afraid of commitment, true committment because he knows that with everyone else, they are disposable. He loves them and he wants them safe and cared for, but he knows now I demand all of him. Something, that really, neither one of us really have done before.
He’s scared shitless and so am I.
———-
I had told him, a few days ago, that after I had ridden with him on Tuesday, I came out of the shower and smelt him in my apartment. I couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on and in this particular place in my apartment, his cologne still lingered EVEN THOUGH he did not wear any when he came over on Saturday night.
When we got back to his house, I ran upstairs and had to use his bathroom. His bottle of cologne was in the bathroom and I just picked up the bottle and smelled, smiling.
———-
I’ve created a monster.
he’s a closet geek. He’s hip to the lingo man. He told everyone that would care to listen how smart and talented I was and even before all these declarations of uh, love, I was invited to go to a party with him for his birthday which is coming up. Yah, he’s OLDER than me — go figure.He told everyone what I was doing with the camera and together we took over 200 pictures of today which I will put up later. He is anxious to learn more and know more about gadgets and is better educated than most people. HE LOVES TECHNOLOGY. I told him how I met paul and he thought that was cool and he wasn’t condescending about me shagging up with Paul via the Internet. I told him everything from what happened when I left MI in 1997 to the present. I told him about the world I had seen and what I had done and he did not question or make me feel like I made mistakes.
When we got to his house, he was expecting some parts for his Audi and UPS had left a note. This ended up with me looking at his computer again. I had sat next to him all day calling him “Captain” as we drove around and he sat next to me at the computer as I went to work calling me “Captain.”
“Don’t stop believing” by Journey came on digital radio and I said “Dance with me” — he said where? HERE? Yah I said, and I kicked my boots off. We swayed old school to the song and he said “lisa, this is not a slow song” “Shut the fuck up and dance with me!” I laughed. So we danced with my arms around his neck in his dining room to the song.
He pulled away.
I pulled back.
“Dance with me.”
1am in the morning and we are swaying old school, giggling, to Journey in his dining room.
He ran around the house taking pictures of things. I laughed at him as he ran around taking pictures of pictures. He dug up old OLD pics of him as a kid and when I first met him and my god, has time flown. I told him how I had shown his picture to an old friend of ours and how she had been ragging on me that I was going to be a biker bitch now. “You’ll never be a biker bitch, Lisa. I don’t WANT you to be.” We laughed.
———-
He asked me to stay the night, again. I demurely declined.
He’s taking his Audi in tomorrow to get worked on and asked me to follow him so that he could get back home. He hadn’t driven it in a week and he went out and started our cars and we stood awkwardly in his living room. We hugged. He pulled away — GODDAMNIT! (he said) You still smell the same!
As I was dropping him off, I turned off the lights and we sat in my warm car, our ass cheeks warmed from the seat heaters. He started babbling. “YOu don’t want to leave do you?” “I’m babbling aren’t I?” He smiled. He hugged me and it was a quirky little hug, “See you around? You got school and stuff. Work starting back up on monday.” “I get out at 4pm M,T,TH,F. I’m off on Wednesdays.” “Oh yah?” “Yah.”
“So, would you like to go see a movie with me?”
“Mmm… sure.”
———-
Friday (tomorrow? today?) I’m heading to my mom’s for the weekend. He’s heading to MO, preplanned, to hang out with Sarah. He told me the last few days that he doesn’t want to have sex with her. I told him he doesn’t have to do that, it’s HIS girlfriend. “I just no longer find her desirable.” “But you don’t HAVE to do that. I do understand.”
———-
I was his tumbleweed. He never expected me in a million years to show back up in his life and here I was, spent two days with him in his ‘tractor’ (not cab, i was wrong) spending 16 hour stretches with him and talking. So much was FUCKING SAID. So much that we never said in the past, so much that needed to be said NOW. We are adults now and it’s fresh, it’s new. It was something but there was all this energy going on then and now it’s clear sailing.
“I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“You’ll only disappoint me if you don’t try.”
I told him I still had the tshirt he gave me when we first met, from his parent’s pizza place 15 years ago. The business is gone and his parents split up. I came home wondering where the damn shirt was, thinking it was in one of the million of boxes in my bedroom. It was piled, with the other shirts. I dug it out and it’s sitting in front me. It’s yellowing, with age. I hold it close to me and smile.
———-
We never kissed beyond Sunday night. We never had sex. As the guards came down and we became more in tune with each other, it was like our own little private club. Same as in the past. We were, ourselves with each other. No facades. No disposable lovers. No nothing. I can’t look at him without wanting to crawl into his skin. I would spend hours staring at him as he drove and he would look at me, wiggle his eyebrows and we would laugh. Every guy I had dated past him, all had parts of him. I never FUCKING knew that, until today. Everything I wanted in someone, was based off of him. How fucked is that? I told him that.
———-
I do feel stronger. I feel — more complete. More within myself. I know who I am now and I know what my future looks and if he can’t take the balls and dump the zero, than, well, I will live without him. It is his loss. I will be hurt, I will curse and I will scream and shake an angry fist at the sky but I will go on.
But, I love him.
I do.
I felt it in my heart and I felt things in the last few days I have not felt in a very long time.
I love him.
Get ready for the ride of a lifetime.
On the road again
Just got off the phone with Miguel and I’m going out tomorrow with him again on the road. He saw the pictures online and was super impressed because he didn’t know anyone personally who was into that. I told him so many people were impressed with what we did and his job that he was excited. He wants to get more pictures of his cab and he’s going to give me all the correct terminology so I can update the captions correctly.
I’ll see you guys later.
shecanreadshecanread
Btw, I pulled all my personal ads.
I got bored.
Regardless of what happens with Miguel, I’m not going to be venturing into that area again anytime soon.
Everytime we hopped out of the cab, he’d walk next to me: Miguel Part VIII
Everytime we hopped out of the cab, he’d walk next to me, shoulder to shoulder. How did you get so tall?
I held up my foot, It’s the boots I said. He’s pretty short, only about 6’1.
We went to this kitschy little chinese resturant somewhre in New Buffalo and I had walked by him and kicked him in the ass with my foot sideways as I walked by. He started laughing.
The process to load steel takes a long time — we were laying in the back of the cab, spooning in the cab. We held hands and giggled listening to a local talk radio show on AM radio while the trailer rocked from the steel being loaded.
————–
“Did you ever write down ‘Lisa Dunkelberger’?” he asked me.
Yah, I said. All the time. When I was 17.
We laughed.
“My mother won’t like your tattoos.”
“Has Sarah met your mother.”
No he said and smiled. His mother lives in Guam and has been for years.
“not my problem.” I said and just looked at him.
“What will our kids say?”
“That mom was a cool ass bitch and daddy was a codgy old fuck.”
“You’re probably right.” and we laughed together.
“We are not even dating,” I said, “and you have us picking out china patterns!”
————–
I had brought my essays with me from Modern Cinema (I picked up my final and got an A on it). I explained the movies we watched and the questions and my answers and he was like “woah there Einstein!” All day he kept calling me Einstein. He loved it. He got all excited when we talked about Ameros Perros, Annie Hall and The Godfather.
————–
He has a girlfriend.
Sorta.
When he and I split up, he fucked around and met up with a woman 10 years his senior, who he ended up staying with for 7 years. Once that ended, He met up with Sarah, who is 12 years his junior. It’s not my place to say what occurred between them, but I will say that from his perspective, I got angry because of the way she treated him. Even went so far at one point to try and beat the shit out of him (and he stands about 6’1). He kicked her out and assumed she was going to move into her own apartment down the street and she ended up moving to Missouri with her mother. Lots of baggage. They broke up and he’s not happy but they have been talking again and were working on things but — the thing is, she’s in MO — of course things are great but he’s not happy, he doesn’t look happy and he told me more. He said he needed to tie up things with her. He was with her because she was familiar and comforting — despite everything.that had happened. “In short,” I said, “She’s asked you to put your life on hold?” “My life is not on hold.” “Yes it is.” He just looked at me for a long time and didn’t say anything.
————–
His cell phone is dead and he’s waiting for Nextel to replace it. He won’t have the phone on the road and i know that if the rest of the week is anything like today, I won’t hear from him until tonight. I already made the decision to spend the night, if he asks. No sex. Just sleeping. That will be the true test of intimacy. I just want to be with him.
This weekend, I’m going to my mom’s and he’s going to MO, which was already planned far in advanced. What happens after this weekend will be what will happen.
He told me, quite passionately, that he doesn’t want me out of his life again, no matter what happens after all of this is said and done. I thought about this and today I feel strong enough to handle that. On the other hand, I don’t know if I can handle that. Despite everything that was said and done, I had NO INTENTION of looking him up to shag. Danny was one thing, Miguel was another. I did not expect to still feel what I feel and I did not expect to still find him sexually attractive. That was a bonus. But come what may, this was the right decision. It makes me more free to move on.
————–
Miguel has nothing to do with the following.
I started making life plans more concrete. I have an appointment with a family realtor next week to buy a house here in GR. That has a been a decision that has been coming down the pipes for months. I’m tired of paying rent and the girls not having a place to call their own. I want a bedroom with red paint and a nifty headboard for my bed. I will still go to school until I graduate from Aquinas in 05. Hopefully with honors. I will still be taking the GRE’s in the spring and applying to grad school next fall. But I started talking to Miguel about my dream to open up my own coffee shop/book store again, one dream I’ve harbored for years and i want to do that too.
The world has suddenly all these possibilities.
Retrograde Motion: Miguel Part VI
kethryvis wrote me a very beautiful letter last night, which I need to reply to. She brought up many good points but what it comes down to right now, and things that justify_me and greentara said was about growth. This whole year has been about growth and while I can’t predict the outcome of what is to happen between him and I, I need to finish this in order to grow. I do. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to many, but the way I see it, sometimes you have to go back before you go forward. It’s about birth death and being reborn. He hit the nail on the head when he was telling about me about the movie Red Dragon, but not in the evil way he thinking of Ralph Fiennes character of becoming. We are always becoming.
We are dynamic creatures, we have to be.
He called me last night and we were on the phone for an hour. We talked about computers and I’m still tripping over that. He was impressed I got his computer working until — it died again. We talked about the world and everything inbetween. Found out he goes to the same coffee shop over by AQ which I just now started to frequent. How fucked would that have been to have gotten my double chocolate mint mocha to see him standing there.
No matter what happens, this is it. The end. Finis. Kethryvis pegged it in her letter to me. No more searching for people anymore in the past, it’s time to move forward to the future. But I do need to finish things with him on this and so far, I’ve been able to tell him everything as to the whys and the hows. When it’s done, I may shed some tears but I’ll be stronger than ever and able to continue to move forward.
I want you all to know I love you. I do. Thank you for everything, I can’t stop thinking how lucky I’ve been with having you guys here in my life.
—-
My hororscope has predicting a lot of things the last few days which have been running around this same thread of what has been happening with Miguel. It’s been dead on target so far. I’m amused to have found this about today:
Your Daily Horoscope for October 21, 2003
Dear lisa,
A romantic relationship, whether new or long-term, could be advanced today to the next level of commitment, lisa. The chemistry between the two of you is very strong, and you’re compatible on more than one level. And today you’ll experience passion like never before! Some intense but honest and very positive discussion about the future of the relationship is likely to take place today – followed by an intimate encounter.
Up and down memory lane we went: Miguel Part IV
I smell the same.
he freaked out when we hugged and he buried his face in my neck. He waved his wands and backed away like I was poison. You smell the same he said. Exactly the same. I can’t do this he said, I can’t touch you and not have you.
Up and down memory lane we went. He showed me a picture taken of him in Guam after we had started dating the first time and I couldn’t believe it was him I was 17. He was 18. I clutched the picture like it was going to be taken from me forever and stared at it. We went up and down. Up and down memory lane. Remember this I said? Remember that he said?
I was sitting in his leather chair and we were laughing and he looks at me all serious. I have missed you, he said. I have really missed you. Missed me how I used to be or missed me in general? I asked teasingly. I just have missed you — more than I thought or realised.
I smiled back at him.
You broke my heart you know.
I told him, remember? The phone calls? Remember when you called me up one night and told me you had just bagged a 40 year old and you were drunk? I said that? Yes. You did. I went on. I told him more.The cigarette nearly dropped out of his mouth. I would never say that. Yes, you did say that. Do you remember I said? No, he said, I don’t. I can’t believe when I would treat you that way.
Remember, I said, when you came up to when I was working at Dairy Mart and had two plane tickets, one for me — one for you. You wanted me to come back with you — back to guam you said. You wanted to be mine forever I said. I remember, he replied. I said no, I was with someone else now. Then I cried in the office when you left. I remember leaving and walking out in a huff he said. You cried? Yes. For days.
You broke my heart.
You’ve lost some of your innocence. He looked at me, rolling up the sleeve on my left arm. That’s a profound statement you’ve made. The tattoos and the piercings. Your innocence is what made you so mine. I’m still the same I said. It’s just buried way way deep inside. Why he said. Because, I was tired of people taking advantage of me. Tired of people using me. I was tired of believing everything. Protection. There is no mark on your body other than the eye of ra that offers protection. No, protection. The tattoos are protection. Why he said? People left me alone. They thought I was this huge bad ass. No one fucked with me. I liked it. I think tattoos are beautiful I said. People just left me alone. It was my big fuck you to the world. Just leave me alone. I almost started to cry.
He looked at my soul and had it on the table in under five seconds. You are the good girl. You were always the good girl. I am so sorry Lisa, for everything. He apologized. For what he said. What he did. For what others did.
I stared at him wide eyed and suddenly I wanted to rip everything off. The piercings, the pictures on the internet. The journal. Everything. Gone. I wanted it gone. I wanted to scream “That is not me — this i me.”
It always comes back to sex.
Ice cubes. Remember the ice cubes? You were the only girl who would use ice cubes when she would go down on me. And gave head while I drove. And swallowed. Wait, I thought I always swallowed. No, that was later. Are you sure I said? Yah. Remember, you called me, bold as brass and announced you swallowed. I did?? I was incredulous. I said that? He laughed. You don’t remember? No, I didn’t.
Come to bed with me, he said.
No, I replied petulantly.
Why?
No sex. No sex. No sex.
We won’t have sex.
That’s what you say but not what you think. I smiled.
You were the best sex I ever had.
I laughed. Stop lying. You don’t have to pretend.
No, I’m serious. Every girl after you wasn’t you.
I told my exes about you.
Water came spitting out of my mouth.
Yah, he teased, my ex from way back used to run circles.
Best sex of my life.
I kept laughing.
We were in love once, that is why it was so good. Was that it he said?
Yes, that is what it was.
Words were said. I remember him looking down at his tshirt. I stood up and pulled on my boots. I can’t be near you and not want you, I said. I can’t be casual. Been there, got the tshirt he said. He was trying to be a bad ass. No, I said. Can we still hang out. No, I said. I can’t be near you and not touch you. I can’t. It’s impossible. I put my coat on. He put his coat on. I grabbed him and we hugged. Jesus christ, you smell exactly the same. He tossed to me to the side. No, I said. Don’t stop. I can’t not be near you and not touch you.
He went upstairs to go to the bathroom before he walked me to the car. I sat on the couch, staring at my knees. This is it, I thought, I’ll never see him again. Ever. I’ve made my choice. I’m walking otu that door. He’s safe, though. he’s alive. He’s okay.
He lit a cigarette. He sat down. More words came out.
I leaned over and kissed him.
That was the end.
It was like coming home. Everything, his hair, his lips. Those fucking eyes that burned into my soul. I was dying inside. All the bullshit was gone and I was dying. We’d stare at each other.
I can’t believe you are here. You were gone and now you’re back. You will leave me again. No, I said tracing his lips. You left me. I know he said. I was irresponsible. I was dumb. I’m sorry Lisa.
We made it upstairs. I stuck to my guns. No sex. He has to be work at 8am. I was lying in bed, cradled in his arms and I was panicking. Flight. FLY AWAY. I have not slept with a man in nearly year. Not laid next to another human. FLY, FLY FLY AWAY back to your apartment to the safety of your books and your computer and tivo. FLY FLY AWAY. MOVE my brain was screaming.
So I did.
I crawled out of bed, and murmured that I was leaving. He told me to stay, stay he said. I can’t I said. I have to go. I can’t sleep. I was panicking hard. FLY FLY FLY my brain kept screaming.
I left.
—
He, incredulously, drives a big rig. Owns three trucks. Is doing very well — enough to drive an ’00 audi fully loaded TT. He wants to me to go with him on Tuesday on a run down to Chicago. I don’t know if I’ll hear from him after my departure. I have to talk to myself into that I’ll be okay. That I’ll live. That I’ve been okay these last 10 years. I said a lot of things tonight. I don’t regret them, but I kept telling him how he made me felt. How he made me feel. How he made me want to feel. The term “monogamous nympho” was coined because of him. My brain is screaming at me and my heart is torn in two.
I’m 17 again.