Happy Halloween

What Your Halloween Habits Say About You

You're a friendly person, but not the life of the party. You like making someone else's day - and you'll dress up if you think of a really fun costume. Sneaky and devious, people should really watch out for you. You are usually underestimated and forgotten. Your inner child is full of wonder and very sweet. You truly fear the dark side of humanity. You are a true misanthrope. You're logical, rational, and not easily effected. Not a lot scares you... especially when it comes to the paranormal. You are a traditionalist with most aspects of your life. You like your Halloween costume to be basic, well made, and conventional enough to wear another year.

What's Your Halloween Personality?

And here's my own little devil -- N in full costume. Yes I know it's a bit blurry. Blame the photographer (me) and my camera phone.

So How Was Your Weekend?

This post became a monster as I wrote it, so I summarized for those of you with ADD or too little time in your day to waste reading the maudlin writings of an overly emotional female or if you just like to cut to the chase, plain and simple. So choose for yourself, the long version or the short. However, no fair asking for clarification or further detail if you choose to read only the short version. Clarification provided only to those who’ve already waded through the long meandering version. Thanks.

Signed, The Management

LONG VERSION:
There are so very many things on my mind lately, too many apparently because this past weekend went from being jam packed with activities to me giving up on several of them, and sleeping way too much. The fact of the matter is that you just can’t be more than one place at a time. Add to that my propensity for making N my number one priority. On top of that throw in the wacky mind of a person like me who thinks she can schedule things back to back to back to back. Throw in a couple of unexpected emotionally charged conversations with a couple of different people and just like that you’ve got a weekend disaster just waiting to happen. Happen it did, and the results were less than stellar.

Made it to the Illini game on Saturday. Didn’t make the post game party for which I’d signed up and paid because we had to get back home to get N to the fall festival at his school. Originally the plan had been for W to take care of the N stuff while I did my own thing, which would’ve included a quickie with K on the way to the Halloween party the bi group was having. However, K had cancelled so that part was out. Then W had a meltdown about how things were going, and he was angry at me for not attending the post game party in deference to the party at N’s school. He thought N could live without attending the fall festival, but N was crestfallen at the thought of not being there. I insisted that N be allowed to go and if W wouldn’t take him I would. I cancelled my plans then to go to the bi group’s party because that was going to overlap and cause problems. While I was online sending an email to cancel with the bi group I saw that BJ had sent me a couple of emails that day so I took the time to open them and find out that he wanted to talk. I also then took the time to stop by his blog to see if I could get the general flavor of what he wanted to discuss. We then went, all three of yes (yes, W went in spite of having his meltdown about it and getting me to change plans with the bi group), to the fall festival at school. It was small, but N had fun and enjoyed playing with his classmates, who included Chewbacca, a glowing green nuclear guy of some sort, the grim reaper and a couple of princesses (I’m sorry, but does every freaking girl have to be a freaking princess?) to round out the group. N, as the Devil, was a big hit. I thought he was a bit typecast, but he was happy. When we got home, I sat down in the recliner and almost immediately fell asleep and napped for a couple of hours, long enough that I was incredibly groggy after I woke up.

Sunday all was well as N woke us at 7:00 a.m. plenty of time to get ready for Sunday School and church. Except it turned out it was actually 8:00 a.m. and not 7:00 a.m., but we didn’t figure that out until showers had been taken, and dressing had occurred and we thought it was a few minutes before 8:00 a.m. but was actually a few minutes before 9:00 a.m. Sunday School starts at 9:00 a.m., and we weren’t going to make it. How did this confusion occur? Well, in my bedroom I have a “smart” alarm clock. It automatically adjusts itself for Daylight Savings Time in the spring and back to Standard Time in the fall. HOWEVER, Congress in it’s infinite wisdom and inability to handle real issues has mucked around with the dates of the changeover. No longer does the “fall back” change happen on the 4th weekend of October, but now happens on the 1st weekend of November. My alarm clock was not informed of the change so it “fell back” overnight on Saturday/Sunday night leaving us going by the wrong time until I finally had glasses on my face and watch on my wrist and looked at the watch. From there, the day just never quite got back on kilter. BJ and I talked in the afternoon for about an hour just before I went grocery shopping. I was in the baking mood so when I got home I made pumpkin spice muffins, which turned out very well by the way, while N played with a friend on the Playstation. After that it unintentionally became nap time again, and it was already dark when I awoke to N complaining of being hungry. We had dinner, watched a little TV, got N to bed. Later I was watching the news when they mentioned the Illini basketball Orange & Blue Scrimmage yesterday afternoon. We had tickets for that. We had every intention of attending. We forgot, just flat out forgot that instead of shopping and baking and playing we should have been headed to see Illini basketball. When I realized I’d missed it I cried. W didn’t know what to say. There was nothing to say. We missed it. I forgot all about it. Those things are my responsibility to remember because I’m the one who wants to go, and I forgot. I was stunned, devastated that I had forgotten something that is usually near the top of my priority list. I was chatting with BJ on Yahoo at the time I realized it. I didn’t mention it to him at all. After all, it was over and done, nothing could change it, so why bitch and moan? Just move on.

SHORT VERSION:
Illini football game – made it, Illini won, Good
Post-game alumni party – didn’t make it, wasted money on tickets, Bad
Fall festival – made it, N enjoyed it, Good
Hookup with K – didn’t make it, K cancelled, Bad
Bi group Halloween party – didn’t make it, wasted money on costume, Bad
Sunday School & Church – didn’t make it, third week in a row, Bad
Baked muffins to start annual Fall Baking Frenzy – made ‘em, delicious, Good
Illini basketball scrimmage – didn’t make it, forgot all about it, Very Very Bad
BJ and me – back together. . . I think. . . Very Very Good. . . I think. . .

Big Dreams - A Meme

Bunny hopped over and tagged me for a meme about dreams. I started working on it on Friday, but got sidetracked over the weekend. Now here it is.

'Write five things you want to be when you grow up. Big dreams that seem like folly, but in your heart of hearts are very real and dear to you. Things that maybe you have forgotten about in the ebb and flow and toil of the everyday, but that never really leave your soul. What you would do if anything was possible?'

1. Go back to school.
I’m stealing this a bit from Bunny but with differences in what I would study. I love math. I’m a math fanatic. I would love to go back to college and work my way back through all the math that I’ve forgotten along the way and then move beyond where I’ve been before. I would also like to pursue a law degree, in addition to studying psychology, theology, philosophy, and while I’m at it why not study up and get an MBA to go along with the BS and MS I already have.

2. Open my own restaurant and/or catering company.
This is a long standing dream of mine. I want to own a restaurant that makes excellent low fat down home comfort food for vegetarians. Okay, yes it’s a bit of a narrow niche, but when you dream you might as well tailor those dreams to fit yourself.

3. Start my own church.
Why start my own church? Because I think mainline Christianity has gotten a bit far afield on certain issues. Because I can’t find a conservative church liberal enough for me or a liberal church conservative enough for me. I’m an odd eclectic mix of Christian beliefs, but then again Jesus was considered a bit radical in his time (and no, I am most certainly not trying to compare myself to Him but just trying to follow his example to the best of my ability).

4. Save enough money to retire at age 55.
This is the big dream I'm closest to actually making reality. I’ve run into a few detours on my way to achieving this one, but it may still be possible if I don’t do something stupid between now and then. Once I retire I want to spend time working on my house getting it fixed up how I would like it to be. I would also like to travel some and stalk follow the Illini basketball team to tournaments and such.

5. Run a small bed and breakfast.
I have seen close up what it takes to run a B&B, and let me tell you it is hard work, very hard work to do it right. I’m not too sure I’d be up to the task, but there are certain aspects I would love like making creative and delicious breakfasts each morning for the guests. I would love meeting people from all over the country, and the world, who might come and visit my little corner of the earth. I would love telling guests about the local sites and out of the way places and then hearing at the end of the day how it went. I would love baking fresh cookies each afternoon to have available for tea time. I would love decorating the B&B according to the season. So if I could do all the parts that I would love and let someone else handle the rest of it (and why not? It is my fantasy after all) then I would absolutely love to run a B&B.

Now, I am to tag five more to the task. Hmm, well certainly everyone must have dreams. So whose would I love to read?

Serenity
Silent Male
Fiona (if she can find the time, and I completely understand if there isn’t time enough in the day)
Unspoken Drama
Cat

Not that I wouldn’t love to read others too, but these were the ones I thought of first. Feel free to steal this meme if I didn't tag you, and let me know in the comments that you've done it so I can come read!

Turn Around

Sooooooooooo................

BJ has had a change of heart apparently. He wants me. He wants me enough to work with me on our relationship. He wants to commit 100% to our relationship.

The skeptic in me wonders if it is real. The hopeful me wants very much for it to be real.

My plan now is to go spend next weekend with him, ask some questions, and listen carefully and critically to his answers.

I wonder if he has had anywhere near as many people contacting him to give him opinions and advice on this relationship as I have. I wonder how he came to this decision. I wonder. . .

Well Crap

K just contacted me. Something has come up, and tomorrow isn't going to happen for us. Dang. So he'll be out of town for the next week, and the soonest we'll be able to get together will be the week after. :-(

A few posts back Silent Male commented (tongue in cheek I'm pretty sure) that I ought to get several FWBs. Now I'm thinking that might not be such a bad idea. (said with tongue firmly in cheek)

I really miss sex. Not just sex, I miss touching, the tactile sensations that come from being skin on skin with another human. Oh, how I miss that. I miss that every morning that nobody kisses me good morning or hug me goodbye when I leave for work. I miss that every evening when I come home. I miss that every night when I go to bed alone. I miss the intimacy that should be part of marriage, and yet when W does, on rare occasions, hug me or kiss me it does nothing for me. There is nothing there anymore, nothing.

Sigh. . .

Breaking News

K let me know tonight that he rearranged his schedule on Saturday so we can get together before he leaves on his business trip. Woohoo! Can't wait for Saturday afternoon now.

Also, I finally figured out my Halloween costume and bought the needed items tonight. I am attaching individual size boxes of cereal to a black sweatshirt and carrying a bloody knife (no, not a real one, a fake one of course). I'm going as a cereal killer. Ha! I crack myself up. I'll make sure to get a picture that I can post here next week because it will be way better than this version.

Let's Ring in an HNT

I've been looking at my wedding ring set a lot lately. There it is. These rings have an interesting history. They are bugging me in the present. In the future I would like to be rid of them and the marriage they represent.

HISTORY
When W and I got married we did so pretty much as a spur of the moment thing. We decided on Wednesday to get married and were married that weekend in the cheesiest chapel in Reno, NV. Because of the short notice and our limited financial resources at the time we had no rings. I spent the first few months of married life unringed. Then somehow we got some catalog pushing cheap jewelry, and W thought it would be great to order rings for both of us from there. We did. We followed the cheesiest wedding ever with the cheesiest rings (NOT the ones in the picture above) ever. Not only did the finish wear off fairly quickly, they turned my finger the loviest shade of green. I was embarassed by my wedding ring set at that time, but W seemed to think they were fine so I shut up and left it alone. Finally, after he inherited some money several years into the marriage he agreed to buy real rings for the both of us. We discussed how much we could spend and at first he thought about $500. I eventually got him up to $1,500 for both my wedding set and his band so that allowed me to get a real diamond instead of synthetic. I always kind of resented how difficult it was to talk him into letting me have a real diamond. We went to a local jeweler and first picked his band so we'd know how much we had left for my set. At my urging we made a production of putting the rings on each other's fingers at dinner at a nice local restaurant. That's the history -- I sure know how to make a short story long, huh?

PRESENT
For a long time I rarely took my rings off, only when I did something messy in the kitchen like kneading bread dough. I have left them on during every extramarital tryst. BJ would sit and hold my hand and fiddle with my rings and talk about me wearing his rings someday. He made me believe that he really did want for us to marry, and we talked of our wedding often. When J took his wedding band off after he'd been separated for several months we discussed wedding rings and when the right time is to take them off and how it symbolizes giving up on the marriage. When I was with K last week he made no mention of my rings, but I looked at them several times and thought how inappropriate they seemed there on my finger while I indulged in carnal pleasures with another man. Interesting that of all the pieces to the situation it was the rings on finger that seemed inappropriate to me.

FUTURE
Those rings that I longed for so much during the early part of my marriage have become such a burden. Now I long to be rid of them. I read in others' blogs sometimes that spouses take off their wedding rings when they are angry as some sort of message to the other spouse. I never even imagined doing such a thing. Once I take these rings off it will not be to send a message to W, it will be because the marriage is truly over and done with. By the time they come off, it will be no surprise to him as it will happen when we file for divorce, or when he dies if I continue to stall for too long.

Bits and Pieces

• K and I won't be able to get together again until after he returns from a business trip week after next. Bummer.
• Bi group is having a Halloween party this weekend. I have no clue what costume to wear, but I would like it to be something clever and creative. Unfortunately I'm an accountant without a creative bone in my body.
• N recently point blank asked me if W and I are the tooth fairy, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. I tried the tactic my mom used with me which was to say that only those that believe continue to receive gifts from them. No go. He wouldn't go along so now he knows. He doesn't feel betrayed. He has kind of a sense of wonder that Mom and Dad are nice enough to get him the kind of gifts only Santa has brought.
• I still haven’t made up my mind about spending a weekend with BJ or not. On the one hand, I’ve already agreed to it and cancelling would just bolster his feelings that I’m just like all the rest of the women he’s been with. On the other hand, so what? He can’t be the center of the universe. Get over it.
• BJ is as much or more victim of believing in the fairy tale as I am. His perception that so many others out there are so perfectly happy together in couples is so far off base he has no idea. Relationships are work. Good relationships require a lot of work. It ain’t just gonna fall in your lap.
• There are plans in the works for me and Unspoken Drama to meet in real life in the not too distant future. How will it feel to sit across the table and have lunch with someone who knows the worst there is to know about me? Then again, I know a little about her too, don’t I?
• Just how much honesty is good in my marriage? That’s a big quandary for me right now. I’m a little (oh who are we kidding here, a whole lot, bigger than a whole lot) tired of the cover stories, the excuses, the lies used to cover me as I live a life beyond the confines of my marriage.
• If a person will not stay with you without coercion being applied in some manner at some level then you really don’t have much of a relationship. Why fight to maintain a relationship like that?

As usual, more questions than answers here.

Break Up

Have you seen this movie,the one with Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn? I hadn't until last night. Boy do certain aspects of that movie ring true for me. Maybe I'll expand this post later. No time right now.

-----------------------------------------------
Thanks to a slow running data warehouse query I had time to flesh out this post this afternoon.

It was interesting watching the movie with W last night, sitting as we often do on opposite sides of the room, about as little like a couple as two people in one room can be. The movie is about a couple who break up, and the ensuing angst and pain and frustration. Now, if you asked W I’m sure he would say the movie wasn’t all that good or interesting or even relevant to our lives in any way. I, however, found myself riveted to it and watched with fascination as I saw bits and pieces of my life appearing before me in various scenes. When it was over I asked what he thought of it, and he grunted some and said it was okay he guessed. I chose not to pursue the conversation further as it was bedtime anyway.

Here are the three big things that slapped me in the face from this movie:

Communication & Miscommunication
Boy oh boy could I relate to this concept. It was interesting to me that at several points in the movie Aniston’s character and Vaughn’s character are trying to communicate a message to one another and missing. Why? Because they aren’t addressing things head on but in a round about “here’s my strategy” kind of way. I am so often guilty of that if it were a crime I’d be on death row by now. I mean one thing. I say something else trying to lead my victim at the time into understanding what I want/need/care about. More often than not, my poor victim is clueless and then I’m pissed off because I didn’t get what I wanted/needed/cared about. Guilty as charged, Your Honor.

Crying Woman/Clueless Guy
The scene that occurs in the bedroom after the concert where Vaughn’s character never shows up (due to that miscommunication thing above) is so me with BJ. After not getting what I want I end up crying, and he starts off clueless only to figure out why I’m upset later. Or else he asks if this is why I’m upset, and I have to explain that he is way far off and what the reasons really are. Man, when I watched that scene in the movie I thought somebody had been spying on me to get the idea and dialogue.

Light Bulb Moment Too Late
Vaughn’s character finally gets it. The pieces come together for him, and he tries to make amends. He makes dinner complete with fresh flowers in a vase on the table. He shows Aniston’s character that he does finally get it. He has heard her and understands and sees his part in the problem and starts to work to make things better. The only problem is that it has come too late. Aniston’s character has already given up and moved on psychically, even though not physically yet. I sure see W in this one, and I wonder if BJ won’t have that moment someday. C’mon guys. Get on board when you’ve got the chance. The train doesn’t wait indefinitely. In W’s case it’s already down the tracks. For BJ, it’s engine is stoked and is almost ready to pull away from the station. If he waits much longer to have that moment, he’ll have missed it altogether.

Oh, and the other thing about this movie that I thought of a few times while watching is that I remember last year when it was in theaters that J told me that T, who had already kicked him out and was in the process of divorcing him, took him out for his birthday and took him to that particular movie. He was not amused. Why does that thought bring a smirk to my face?

Can’t. . . Let. . . Go. . .

I hate this. Hate it, hate it, hate it. So BJ wants me to come see him for a weekend, and I jump at the chance, agreeing to go visit him in two weeks.

I keep reciting to myself something I read on another blog, I think it was All of Her Secrets, about not allowing someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option. That’s good advice. It is. I am pretty much ignoring it totally. BJ is my priority. He wields the power. I feel as though I have made myself too weak and too vulnerable here, and just as I knew would happen now I’m starting to feel resentful over it.

Here’s the thing. BJ is going to be BJ no matter what. Like it or not, this is who he is. Accept it or not. I’m not strong enough to just say well here is who TS is, and I’m going to be TS no matter what. Like it or not, this is who I am. Nope, instead I say oh I’ll do anything to prove to you I’m worthy of you. I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you. Weak. Very weak position. And I hate myself for it. I hate that I do that. I am completely disgusted with myself. When I look at it through rational eyes I can see that I’m being a complete idiot. I get the feeling that no matter what I do, it isn’t going to be enough. Somehow I’m always going to fall short, never quite be that perfect match for him that he so much wants. Once again I fall victim to me subjugating my own wants, needs and desires for someone else. The difference this time is that rather than feeling like I have to do that it is making me angry because I know that I don’t have to do that. Why the hell should I be the one to make all the sacrifices, accept everything without question, while not receiving the same consideration? Why indeed!

Part of me is screaming “Walk away from this! Now! Stop it!” On the other hand, there is the part that doesn’t want to lose BJ. Then I ask myself why not? Why should I want to hold onto him? Why should I want someone who wants unconditional acceptance but won’t offer it back? WTF is wrong with me?

So where will I go from here? Don’t know. Will I follow through and spend a weekend with him? Don’t know. Will I back out from a position of strength or weakness? Don’t know. Will I be happy with and proud of the decisions I make? Don’t know.

Far Away

Things We Hide Even From Ourselves

Interesting that no matter how many times I claim that this blog holds the deepest and darkest thoughts, the absolute worst of me, I find that it does not. The reason it does not is because there are truths that I hide even from myself. There are things that maybe I know deep down but don’t want to admit even to myself.

As a child, I was the kid that was picked on by the majority of the other kids. I was the oddball, and to deal with this I developed a way of putting up a thick wall between me and the world. I would say that I didn’t care what others said about me and in time I internalized that well enough to believe it myself. I bought my act, at least on the surface. I saw myself as tough, resilient; better than those people who sought to bring me down. On the inside however I believed the things said by those other kids. I believed that I was weird and fat and unlovable and unworthy of having friends. Deep down I believe that I have to settle for whatever the world gives me because I am unworthy of asking for more.

I am always surprised when someone likes me. I am always surprised when people are willing to include me in their get togethers. I am always surprised when anyone says they find me attractive or interesting. I am never surprised to get snide comments from others. I am never surprised for people to treat me badly. I walk out into the world expecting to be despised just for existing.

For those of you who comment kindly to me here, there is always a part of me that says to myself “well, they wouldn’t be so kind if they really knew me.” For those of you who comment less than kindly to me here, I believe every word you say to me for it reinforces who I’ve known I am for most of my life.

It is a struggle every day of my life to get out of bed and face the world. I want to believe that I have good qualities, that people just don’t appreciate me. What I do believe is that the world sees through me and knows me and knows the bad qualities I have. I repeat cycles over and over, running from man to man as though there were validation to be had there. I run away when anyone, other than the one I’m wanting at the moment, tries to get too close. I want to find someone with whom I can just be myself and be loved and accepted, but I don’t want to expose myself to too many people, just to that one who will understand. More and more I think that person does not exist. More and more I truly think that I am alone in the world. Utterly and completely alone.

I fantasize about how one day, something is going to happen, somehow, to give me the knowledge I need and the ability I need to be able to be a real person, a person worthy of dignity and respect and caring. The longer I live the more I wonder if that will ever happen, and the more convinced I become that it will never happen.

Bottom line:
I like the person that I am. I just wish it were okay with the rest of the world that I be the person that I am. I wish it weren't a bad thing to be me. Does that make any sense? No, it doesn’t to me either, but it is the feeling I have in the core of my being.

Evolution

I’m rehashing old hash in this post. I’m in a reflective mood. I’m sure I’ve covered this ground here before, maybe in bits and pieces, maybe in a similar way. I’m too lazy to go back and look. Besides, I’m old, I’m allowed to repeat myself. It’s what we old folks do.

If you had told me, five years ago, that I would be one of those wives who has an affair behind her husband’s back I would have probably laughed at you. Maybe I would have been offended, but I’m pretty sure I would have laughed because I would have considered the thought to be utterly ridiculous.

Even then the ole’ sex life was mediocre, existing only when I begged and pleaded hard enough to get a little sympathy attention (and boy, nothing makes you feel better and sexier than having attention paid to you out of sympathy). I had made a commitment though to be faithful to W, and maybe more importantly, I was fat (still am) and therefore in my mind, undesirable to men. I figured I wouldn’t stand a chance on the open market. Had an opportunity placed itself directly in my face, I might have taken it. I’m not sure though. Be that as it may, the opportunity did not arise, and I did not have any affairs back then.

So what changed? What changed me from the woman who would laugh off the suggestion that I might have an affair to a woman who has now had multiple affairs? That is such a good question. It really is. I don’t know that I am fully cognizant of the pieces that came together to contribute to my decision to engage in infidelity.

One piece to the puzzle is that W went from willing to engage in intimate acts at my urging to being frustrated with my constant demands (like once or twice a month) for it. Selfish bitch that I am, I wanted attention. I wanted hands and lips and tongues, even if not genitals (though I would have been happy with that too, but he wasn’t), to caress me and stimulate me and make me feel good, and I wanted to do the same for him. He didn’t want it. He said he wanted to want it but didn’t know how to get that back. So he wanted me to be patient and wait for that elusive moment when he was interested. My patience finally ran out.

Another piece to the puzzle is that I evolved from feeling that it was my obligation to subjugate my own needs for everyone else to feeling that I deserved attention too, that my needs and desires needed to be honored too. I grew tired of subjugating my desires. My patience finally ran out.

A third piece to the puzzle is that I found out that I wasn’t universally repulsive to males. J opened my eyes to that. Others helped me bolster my self esteem until I got to a place where I felt that while some will find me unattractive due to my weight, there are certainly plenty of men out there who do find me attractive. Not only that but they find me interesting, enjoyable as company. My self esteem, while still subject to bouts of battering, has risen meteorically.

There’s a fourth piece and that is the internet. Yes folks, the internet is the work of the devil as it has caused me to stray. (Sarcasm alert! Sarcasm alert!) Seriously though, the internet has certainly made it easier to find others who might be open to the type of activity that one generally doesn’t just walk up to a stranger and request. It has made finding “like minded individuals” a relatively easy, relatively anonymous, relatively safe thing to do. Yes, I said safe. Safe as in if someone creeps you out online you don’t have to share with them who you really are. Safe as in you can run your own background check on someone fairly easily. Safe as in you have the chance to get to know at least something about the person before facing them in real life. While the internet certainly didn’t cause me to cheat it has facilitated it quite handily.

Take all those pieces, put them together, along with maybe a few other things, and there you go. How a faithful wife gives up faithfulness. It isn't pretty, but it is what it is.

All's Well That Ends Well

Turns out I was right and wrong yesterday. Right to think it was going to be a good day. Wrong about worrying about the potential FWB (henceforth to be known as K). Right to be cautious though. One can never be too careful.

Turns out one should always take information learned on the internet with a grain of salt. Whaaaa? It isn't always accurate? No, it isn't. K was able to prove to my satisfaction that he was who he claimed to be and not who I found on the internet. I was relieved because K is a really nice guy, very engaging in conversation, and, as I was to find out later in the evening, very talented in bed.

We met in the bar at Chili's. We each had one drink. We talked for an hour. I asked the questions I needed to ask. K answered. My intuition told me he was telling the truth. After I was comfortable that all was well, I suggested that we move to a more private location.

I followed him to his house where we spent the next couple of hours in bed. He was as much a gentleman as one can be when meeting for gratuitous sex. He asked my permission to kiss me the first time and after that exquisite kiss he told me he had been wanting to do that since I walked into the bar to meet him. We kissed. . . A lot. . . We touched each other. . . All over. . . Our mouths explored one another's bodies in the most intimate of ways. . . It was wonderful. . . It was the beginning of a very fine FWB relationship. I left his house with a smile on my face and the promise to return in the future.

All's well that ends well? How about this is just the beginning of something wonderful? Oh yes, I believe it is.

Busted!

Well, getting back to my bi side one of the two women on whom I have a crush totally busted me for it today. She sent me an email point blank asking if I have a crush on her. I’m sure this comes from something I said on the group’s message board. Even though I didn’t name any names I mentioned that I had a couple of crushes that were not returned. I’m pretty sure she put that together with some other things to come up with the right conclusion.

Now I am mortified. I did not want to jeopardize the friendship we were forming by giving away how I felt because she has always been pretty plain about us just being friends. I have not responded to her email yet. I need time to think of what to say. I have to address it somehow because I’m already scheduled for her to cut and color my hair this weekend. Awkward does not begin to describe how I’m feeling here.

Being the overreactionary (okay, probably not a real word but deal with it) type, my first thought was to withdraw. Withdraw from her. Withdraw from the bi group. Withdraw into my little psychic shell that I maintain around me for just such times of discomfort. Isolate myself once again from the world.

So here I was at lunchtime sitting in my family room crying over my laptop without a good explanation to W so I just told him all of the above. He gave me his suggestions about how to respond to her. They were pretty good suggestions. He has been very supportive of my relationship with her, has met her and likes her and even approves of her as a girlfriend for me if it were to go that way. Sometimes he’s not half bad.

Crap. There goes life spinning out of control again.


Okay, so you remember how two posts down, just a few hours ago, I said it was going to be a good day? Well, scratch that. It's not. Not by a long shot.

Things That Make You Say “Hmmm. . .”

I was having some prickly feelings so I ran the potential FWB’s phone number through reverse lookup. It came up as a cell phone for a different first name (we’ve not exchanged last names) than I’ve been given in a town about an hour or so from here. I had been given the impression he was here in town. Upon Googling the name that came up on the reverse lookup I found a similar name, the first name I was originally given with the name on the phone record as the middle name. The name appeared on a list from the state of disciplinary actions taken on professional licenses. It indicated this person’s license was put on probationary status for one year due to criminal record.

Can we say “RED FLAG”?????

Approaching with EXTREME caution. Something tells me I won’t be going anywhere private with this guy. Drinks and done I’m thinking. Or maybe I’ll cancel altogether. Eww.

Emotions Anyone?

At any moment of any day these days, you can find me up, down, happy, sad, angry, triumphant, blah, whatever. I just bounce around the emotional spectrum.


Sometimes I'm trying to remember that Big Girls Don't Cry:


Sometimes I'm certain that I'm going to move on and be better than ever and that it is all his loss because he (BJ or W, take your pick) is not Irreplaceable:


Then there are other times when I realize that all of my little problems are just that -- little, and I imagine what it would be like If Everyone Cared:


Right now, this minute, I'm nervous and excited and anticipating meeting the potential FWB tonight. Also I'm probably feeling a little like Beyoncé in the second video above. I am in the frame of mind where I realize that I AM all that, and that it is his loss much more than mine that things are over between us. I am so much better than begging to get him back. I am so worth it. If he can't see it then that is his problem.

It's gonna be a good day today. Oh yes it is.

My Oh My

Nothing like a hot IM chat with a potential FWB to take your mind off your troubles. We'll be meeting in person on Wednesday after work. If things go as well in person as they have so far online we'll be having more than drinks on Wednesday. Oh yes indeed, nothing takes your mind off your troubles like tall, cute, funny, and sweet. Hmm, if this works out I'll have to add a new letter to the alphabet soup on the right.

So far there is only one downside to this potential FWB. He is single, and even though I have been very clear about my marital status and my desire not to have a romance but just a physical relationship, I get a little hint that he may be looking for more of a real relationship. Gotta keep that in mind as we go forward and not let it go down that path. Can't be romantically involved with anybody else for a while. Nope, gotta keep the heart on the high shelf tightly shut away in it's box.

-------------------------------------------
Late edit:
It dawns on me why I think he's so cute. He looks a lot like Drew Carey only taller and without glasses.

-------------------------------------------
Oh and a little P.S. to the person that left me a voicemail message last night.

Please email me at the address in my profile or leave me another voicemail giving me some clue as to who you are and what you wanted to talk about. Otherwise, I'm not sure I feel comfortable calling you back. Thanks.
Hmm, never mind, a little sleuthing and putting 2 + 2 together, and I figured it out. Do NOT expect a call from me. Sorry dude, not into phone sex with strangers.

If You're the Praying Kind

Please pray that the shadow found on my mammogram turns out to be nothing. Thanks.

So Much Stupidity, So Little Time

For one of the few times since I’ve been writing this blog I am tempted to censor myself due to the “audience” I’ve accumulated. I decided long ago that this blog was just for me to vent, to write out the ugliest and worst things that run through my head. That is what I do here. Yet now I find myself considering editing so I won’t sound so “weird” or “delusional” or “pathetic” or “odd” or whatever other word might come to mind in that vein. Oh well. Comments be damned. This is my blog, and I’ll blog the worst of it.

I alternate between wanting to maintain status quo with W and just telling him the whole thing and telling him to get out of the house. The truth is I don’t want to work on the marriage anymore. I’m fine with having him around but not with being in a marriage with him. There is part of me that just wants to tell him I’m tired of lies and cover stories and all that bullshit and here’s what I’ve done and what I’m going to be doing and decide for yourself what you want to do because of it. My fear if I do that is that I lose all control of the situation. I am such a control freak. God forbid I can’t have everything under my control. [rolls eyes at self]

I became a snoop this weekend and did something I have never done before. I checked W's cell phone's contact list just to see who was in there. I found that along with the people I would have expected (relatives, friends, me) there were two mystery entries -- one for "Kk" and one for "xyz" -- that made me curious. Interesting that he would mark them in such way that I wouldn't know who they are if I did happen to check. I have several numbers on my cell phone that would be quite interesting to W if he ever looked, and I've made no attempt to "hide" them but put real names to each and every one. While I don't really mind that he has a life behind my back, I do find it interesting that he tries to keep it a secret somehow. Such interesting games we play at our house. Yes indeed.

I desperately want BJ back. I do. I would do almost anything to get “us” back. Yes, I would even accept things that I’ve thought were unacceptable. I am pathetic and weak and delusional and all those other names you wish to throw at me. Damn, I wish I didn’t love BJ so much. I wish it were easier to move on from this, but it isn’t. It isn’t easy at all. So while I am moving on in some ways (acquiring a new FWB for example), in others I am not. I can’t seem to let go of the hope that somehow, in some way, BJ and I can find a way to make things work between us. Yes, I know that it is one-sided now. I know that he doesn’t want me the way I want him. Yes, I know. I know, and I know, and I know. And yes, I still keep beating my head against the brick wall.

Say what you will in the comments about all of this. Well, kind readers, I know you’ll pound me for it, but it is what it is. These are indeed the thoughts that rattle around inside my empty lil’ head. These are the thoughts that I dare not speak to anyone for I know that they are utterly ridiculous.

Question I’m Pondering

Facts:

A discussion is had between husband and wife prior to wife leaving for work in the morning.
During the discussion it is agreed that husband and wife will lunch together at home that day.
No particular time is specified for lunch, but most days wife arrives home for lunch, if she is lunching at home, somewhere between 12:15 and 12:45 in the afternoon.
When wife arrives just before 12:30 husband is not home.
Wife passes husband going the other way on the road as she returns to work at 1:20.
No calls, emails, or any form of communication were received by wife from husband at any time during the day.



Question:

At what time should husband expect wife to commence instilling great bodily harm on him?

Can't Keep a Good Woman Down

Have a lead on a new FWB. He's a couple of years younger than I, and he's 6' 6". OMG, I adore tall men. May be meeting him in person next week. We'll see. Starting to feel better. Nothing better than some NSA fun to cheer a girl up! Nice to have something to look forward to.

Unwritten

Dreams from the Weekend, Part Deux

A somewhat different theme than the prior dream but still based in the workplace.

I am changing jobs (okay same so far), but I am still at the old job finishing up my last couple of weeks there. I am spending time trying to get everything organized for whoever takes my place. I spend some time with the A/P clerk (in real life the A/P clerk I worked with several jobs ago) showing her what I did with the one checking account that I had always monitored.

As I am discussing my job change with coworkers I am becoming aware that there are three men in the office who are attracted to me, and all three are asking me at various times to go on dates with them. The first of the three is Dale (not his name in real life, but someone with whom I worked 25 years ago and had a crush on at that time though he wasn’t interested in me in the slightest), and he is persistently asking me to please go on a date with him. The second of the three is Drew Carey (yes, the one on TV) who is apparently my boss but now that I’m leaving he feels free to express his feelings and invites me to lunch. The third is Joe (not his name in real life, but someone with whom I worked, and whom I supervised, about five years ago) who tells me he is splitting from his wife and has always been attracted to me.

At first, I rebuff all of their advances. As time goes on though, I decide why shouldn’t I give it a try with the two who interest me (Dale and Drew) so the first thing I do is accept Drew’s offer of lunch. He can’t have lunch that particular day as he and Joe are already scheduled to have lunch that day, but he asks if I would go the next day. I say yes. Shortly thereafter, Joe’s dad arrives and calls letting Joe know that he is in town and wants to take him to lunch. Joe isn’t quite sure what to do, but Drew says go ahead and go. Drew and I then leave for lunch together. Outside the building, Joe’s dad is being obnoxiously loud and making crude jokes obviously embarrassing Joe particularly since he sees Drew and I walking out of the building.

And then the alarm went off ending my date with Drew Carey before it ever really began. I tried hitting the snooze button and recapturing the dream, but it was gone. Sigh. . . I really wanted to find out how that date went.

I’m probably the only woman in America with a huge crush on Drew Carey.

Recurring Thought

You know what really pisses me off?

He wouldn’t cut back on his beer consumption for me, but he will entirely give it up for lap band surgery. How fucking messed up is that?!?

Sorry, obsessing again. . . or yet. . . whatever.

Two Dreams from Last Weekend

Dream #1

I am changing jobs (dreamed that before, many times lately). I need to be at the new job at 8:30 a.m. on Monday, October 8 (oh yes, the dream was just that specific). The new job is in a large building, very tall. I leave with what I think is plenty of time to arrive by 8:30. However, I can’t find my car in the parking lot where I’m staying, and this delays me some. I finally find my car but am further delayed by the snow that has begun to fall and make the streets somewhat slippery. I arrive at the parking lot at the new job. After a bit of a struggle to find an empty spot I park and go inside. For some reason, N is with me, and he is keeping up a fairly constant chatter of criticism of every difficulty I am having in my day.

We head to the bank of elevators (another common theme in dreams lately), and have difficulty interpreting which one we need. Unfortunately, I left my piece of lavender colored paper with the information on it and can’t quite remember the correct floor. I know I am to report to HR which is on a different floor from where I will work but can’t remember for sure. I strain to remember and think that it is the fourth floor so we get on an elevator that I think should take us to the fourth floor, but somehow it doesn’t. We end up getting off on the second floor instead. We walk around amid the cacophony of a casino located here, and I see an information desk at the other end so I head there.

The woman at the information desk is very nice as I explain that it is my first day at XYZ Insurance Company (actually it was a real life regional insurance company with which I am familiar but have never worked). Immediately, she sprang to action and gave me a form to complete along with a key. I stopped her and explained that I was supposed to be at HR at 8:30 (it was now almost 9:30!), but she insisted I should go ahead and fill out the form. Once the form is completed, she tells me that HR is on the 24th floor (so I had been wrong about the floor) and that we should take one of the elevators at the other end of the building to get there.

We walk to the other end of the building and look through a confusing maze of elevators. Finally, we choose one that appears to go to the 24th floor. I can’t find the button for the 24th floor, and I get pushed to the back of the elevator before I can figure anything out. We end up getting off on a different floor (I don’t remember which one) that also has a casino on one end but the other is a shopping mall. I feel hopelessly lost. W shows up and I cry on his shoulder and beg him to help me find my way. It is now 10:30, and I’m sure my new job is in extreme jeopardy. He tells me to slow down and tell him everything, and that he will try to help me.

Then I woke up.


Okay, two dreams is too long for one post. You’ll have to wait for the other one.

How’s My Day Going?

• W tells me this morning N’s teacher will be calling tonight around 8:00 to talk to both of us but that she didn’t say what the topic is. Shit. . .


• W had his annual physical this morning. He tells me the doctor said he’s doing very well and should live to be 100. Shit. . .


• W brings home lunch for himself from the local deli but nothing for me. He said he didn’t think about getting me anything even though he knows I come home for lunch almost every day. Shit. . .


• I am as horny as I’ve been in a long time, but when I thought about the possibility of asking W to help me with that all it did was turn my stomach. Shit. . .


• As nice as it is to have a social group of bi women, it is damned frustrating sitting on the sidelines hearing about relationships blooming while those women in whom I am interested just want to be friends. Shit. . .

Other than that, everything is peachy keen. Thanks for asking.

Celibacy Sucks

That is all.

It was the Best of Times, It was the Worst of Times

It is clearly my fault. I mean I am, after all, the one who started it. I have no one here to blame but me. I gave myself a couple of hours of hope only to have it dashed . . . again. It started as just an innocent little note of celebration, but I unfortunately had to run it off into the ditch.

Email exchange between myself and BJ yesterday:

My number came up on the waiting list for Illini basketball tickets.

I AM AN ILLINI BASKETBALL SEASON TICKETHOLDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fanning myself just a bit, trying to compose myself. . .

(At this point, I’m happy as can be, just wanting to share with everyone my joy at having one dream come true.)

OMG, that is wonderful! I am so happy for you! I know it's been a lifelong dream of yours. Congratulations!!

(Aww, isn’t that nice? It’s good to know he can still be happy for me when good things happen.)

Thank you. I am beside myself with excitement. OMG!! I should calm down in a day or two.

There’s only one thing missing from my life now. . .

(Okay, good response until that last line. WTF was I thinking throwing out that last line? Oh yeah, trying to see if I could get anything back. That’s right. {slaps self in forehead})

That means you'll be able to see all the home games in person. Talk about being in heaven.

Missing? What would that be?

(Does he really not know, or is he hoping it’s what I meant?)

You

(Short and sweet. Let’s see where this goes.)

That can be arranged.

(My heart begins to sing! That can be arranged? It can? I can have him in my life? We can come to terms somehow, or at least work in that direction? Wait a minute. What if there is a wink at the end of that sentence, just his flirtatious nature? Whoa. Better not get too excited here.)

Now, there you go getting my hopes up again. You see, I read that and I think that maybe something has changed. But nothing has changed. I’m sorry I took this exchange from lighthearted to serious now. I should’ve stuck with basketball.

(Okay laid it on the line. Thrown out the challenge. Tell me something has changed. Tell me. Tell me dammit! TELL ME!)

I'm sorry. You're right. Nothing has changed at the moment.

(Shit. I am an idiot. Such an idiot. Anytime something seems too good to be true it probably is. Maybe I better call the ticket office and make sure I really am a season ticket holder. Maybe that isn’t real either. Ha, ha. No, they charged $1,100 to my credit card. That’s about as real as it gets.)

If I were thicker skinned the above exchange might not have affected me so much. As it is, I interpreted “That can be arranged” as being an olive branch of compromise extended my way. Until I got his last reply some two hours later I started opening my heart to him again. I started to think that maybe, just maybe, we were about to head in a different direction. Of course that didn’t happen, and it was silly of me to think it could. It just isn’t good to keep making myself vulnerable. Not good at all. . .

And now, even though I’m trying to still be happy about the basketball ticket thing, it just doesn’t seem all that important anymore. . .

I'm Here

After missing for a few days from blogland, I am here. It was a busy weekend in the real world causing me to abandon Trueself's world for a while.

We've spent a long weekend celebrating N's birthday. We went to my parents' house last Thursday night and stayed through Saturday. On Friday, we celebrated with the traditional birthday cake and homemade ice cream, but only after W and I snuck off for a couple of hours to buy N his birthday present. Apparently, N was the only child on earth without a video game system. We've heard this for a couple of years now, and held strong until now. So now N is the proud (very proud) owner of a Playstation 2. He was shocked. I think he thought it was hopeless that he would ever talk us into such an extravagance. I was told repeatedly throughout the weekend how much he loves me. Yeah, I earned a few Mom Points this weekend. That isn't why I bought it though. No, I bought it as I explained to him because I have been so proud of his behavior lately. He has been a much more pleasant child to be around. I told him particularly the things he has done lately that have impressed me and encouraged him to keep it up.

After returning home Saturday evening, we spent Sunday about as busy as we could have been. We started by going to Sunday School, then on to two soccer games where N's team won both! We got home around around 3:30 so that I could bake N a birthday cake plus 3 dozen cupcakes for him to take to school on Tuesday (they have Monday off) to celebrate his birthday. W set up the Playstation for N while N and I were baking. By the time the cakes were baked and I made a quick grocery store run, N's best friend arrived for a birthday sleepover. We ordered pizza for dinner and let the kids play with the Playstation until it arrived. Finally, a bit of a break to sit down. Uh, no, it was time to frost and decorate the birthday cake so I did that, and then got a short break until the pizza arrived. I left the cupcakes to be frosted today after I get home from work.

N and his best friend get along so well together. It is great to see them together. They had a great time, and I'm sure that will continue until this afternoon when his friend's mom picks him up. I have to go to work today, but I've left W with strict instructions to be easy on the boys and let them have reasonable fun. It is a birthday celebration after all.

So yes, if you've counted it up N is enjoying one of the longest birthday celebrations ever recorded, starting Friday and not fully ending until Tuesday, five days.

Lucky kid.

Tired mom. (but at least it kept my mind off my relationship woes for a bit)

How Do I Not Care?

In spite of whatever issues are between us, and make it impossible for us to be together, I just cannot not care about BJ. I do care. I care very much. I want him to be happy, and to be healthy, and to have a life that is pleasing to him. I can’t just stop loving the man.

Sometimes I hate that compassionate streak in myself. Sometimes I wish I could look at things more coldly and analytically and make decisions based on logic and analysis of the data and not let my squishy compassionate feelings and emotions get in the way.

I am a nurturer, a caretaker, someone who wants to help however I can help. Tough love ain’t my bag.

And all of this drivel is just leading up to a bigtime confession here. Although I am 100% absolutely without a doubt against the whole idea of the procedure, I am going to be there for BJ when he has it done and stay with him a few days after to make sure he is okay. Why? Because I care. Because I love him and want him to be well cared for, and I don’t want anyone else but me to be the one caring for him. Because I would wish that there would be one person somewhere out there in the world who would do the same for me.

I really am no good at this not caring stuff, am I?

Heartbreaking

W, as seen through my eyes last night during counseling:

He is aging, and he doesn’t like it.
When pushed he is forced to admit that his driving skills are inadequate to continue driving on a regular basis.
He feels defeated. . .
And useless. . .
And scared. . .
He’s afraid that his life is nearly over.
He is afraid that he is going to be abandoned, discarded like an old shoe, by me.

It is heartbreaking.

And yet I can’t bring myself to say the words that would comfort him most.
I can’t tell him that I will stay at his side forever.
Not that I won’t.
I may.
I just can’t bring myself to commit to that.
Even though that is exactly the commitment I made over 19 years ago.
“In sickness and in health”
“In good times and in bad”
“Until death us do part”

Heartbreaking.

A Plethora of Quiz Results

You Are Apple Cider

Smooth and comforting. But downright nasty when cold.

What Part of Fall Are You?

You Are Not Scary

Everyone loves you. Isn't that sweet?

How Scary Are You?

What Your Pizza Reveals

Your appetite is pretty average. You don't go overboard - but you don't deprive yourself either. You consider pizza to be bread... very good bread. You fit in best in the Midwest part of the US. You like food that's traditional and well crafted. You aren't impressed with "gourmet" foods. You are generous, outgoing, and considerate with your choices. You are cultured and intellectual. You should consider traveling to Vienna. The stereotype that best fits you is hippie. You knew it was coming.

What Does Your Pizza Say About You?

Love Lies Bleeding

I'm in a demanding mood so I want you to follow directions with this post. Oh, don't try to get out of it now. You showed up, you're here, you will do as I say now. So click on this video and ignore the video. Listen to the music as you read the post. It's a long song (actually two songs together) so read slowly, savor what you read, and if necessary read it a second time. Read it in the tone set by the mood of the music.



Remember that anger phase?

It is alive and well and . . . well . . . angry.

I wish to shout from the rooftops:
Does he not realize what he has given up?
Does he not realize that with but a few compromises on both our parts he could have had exactly what he whines incessantly on his blog about not having?
What the fuck is wrong with the man?
Does he not realize the wonderfulness that is me?

For all my self-deprecating humor, deep down I do know that I am fabulous on a level very few people understand. Obviously he is not one of those few.

Look out world. Trueself is about to be back out on the prowl, claws at the ready.

And what of W?

Well, what of him?

I have come around to simply announcing to him when I will be going out with friends. I do not share which friends, or where we are going, or anything of the sort. I simply come and go as I please, and he continues doing what he has always done, meaning that he comes and goes as he pleases too. Two separate lives lived in one house with occasional shared meals and trips. That’s all there is to that. You can’t tell me that is so awfully different from other marriages, not all other marriages, but certainly some and I suspect many.

I’ve certainly had the example set for me in my parents’ own marriage, as well as one set of grandparents and various aunts and uncles. Apparently wanting to be together is not nearly as important as staying together in spite of whatever happens. At least that’s the ideal held up as the golden grail in my family. There isn’t anything much worse than divorce in my family. Well, unless you count unfaithfulness leading to divorce.

Why upset the apple cart if I can carve out the freedom I need to play when I want to play? It isn’t as if I’m going to open my heart to anyone else again. Not on your life, not for a long time to come, not until N is grown and on his own. By then chances are W will have passed away, and there will be nothing to come between me and loving a man or woman and being loved in return. I’ll be able to retire by then and not be tied down to anyone or anything, and then I can live again. I just have to survive until then, and I can. I’m strong. I’ll continue to fight the battles for W to treat N as a son should be treated. I’ll continue to hold the “family” we have together. In the meantime, I’ll just go out with various and sundry people to have various and sundry fun, just enough to put the occasional smile on my face. Love will be an emotion to be packed away in a box on a high shelf and saved for possible use later. I’m tired of loving and can’t seem to find anyone who will love me the way I desire to be loved so better to stash it away for now. Ratchet down the emotions if I can to live an even and peaceful existence without the swings of the highs and the lows that go with unabated feelings.

So yes indeed, watch out world. One heartless, cold bitch on the prowl headed towards you, taking what I can get while I can get it.

Yeah right I talk a good game, but it’s all talk. I’ll feel better soon and be back to my old self. I can only dream of the above. I’m sure the reality will be much different, but right now it’s the anger speaking. It’s the anger from which I can’t free myself right now that is throwing it’s might around causing temper tantrums in all directions like debris from a tornado blowing through a trailer park.

Okay, now that you've read the post finish listening to the first piece. Once it is finished play the one below.



Now you've experienced the mood swings that are occurring within me multiple times per day. Welcome to Trueself's World.

Chronic Weakness and Ambivalence

In a moment of weakness, I text messaged BJ on Saturday morning. I was sitting in the restroom of the restaurant where the family and I had just had breakfast on our way to watching the Illini beat Penn State (the Illini so rock this year!). I had been pining away for him all morning, and given that he and I had also eaten in this particular restaurant at some point made my longing for him so much stronger. So I sent the following message:

“I miss you. Can we talk later today?”

I wanted to talk to him on the phone, to hear his voice, to connect with him. I knew I couldn’t call him right away but thought that maybe at some point after the game was over I could find a bit of privacy and make the call. I also didn’t expect him to text me back immediately. For one thing, it was early enough he might not even be up yet. For another, I thought he might want to consider his answer to me prior to answering. I was also prepared not to receive any answer at all. That would have quite clearly answered the question too.

Later in the day, though, as I was sitting in the stadium enjoying the Illini’s performance over Penn State I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket. I assumed it was BJ’s response. I wanted to read it immediately. I didn’t want to read it at all. Such is the life of the chronically ambivalent. I did not read it immediately. I waited until much later in the game, at a point when it seemed that the Illini might actually pull out a win or at least not lose by a great margin against a nationally ranked team. I opened my phone with some trepidation and looked to see the following message:

“Yes we can talk. I miss you too.”

My heart sang! He misses me too! I started to think about calling him and what I would say, and then I thought about what he would say. Soon enough I realized that if I were to call him that we would replay the same conversation we’ve had a few times before in recent weeks. We would end up in the same place, and my heart would still be broken but with the wound reopened and generously salted. So what was the point of calling? No point. None at all. He can’t be for me the person that I need. I am not the person that he wants. Why put myself through it again? Why rehash old hash?

But as the chronically ambivalent often do I waffled. Maybe I wouldn’t call him on Saturday, but maybe on Sunday (Oh, like that would make any difference at all to the content of the conversation or the outcome? Ha!) I could call. After all, his Hawkeyes lost on Saturday to a team the Illini had already beaten, no less. How could I resist the opportunity to gloat? Maybe we could just have a lighthearted football talk without the relationship stuff. Yesterday, several times throughout the day I considered calling. Each time I talked myself out of it. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t talk to him without bringing the relationship stuff into it. I know me. No way was that going to happen. Eventually, late last night I sent him an email apologizing for the text message on Saturday and explaining why I never called.

How many more times will I succumb to my moments of weakness?

And even more importantly, will the Illini actually become a real football team for the first time in years and make it to a bowl game? And if I focus my energies on Illini athletics rather than interpersonal relationships will it lead to more contentment and satisfaction or will that also lead to eventual heartbreak?