No one’s priority

He said he was sorry for not being able to show up.  He wasn’t able to get away.  He is married and he has small children.  Did I fall in love, or is it lust with this man? I was drawn in by the soft gentleness he exhibits with his children. He is so kind and loving; I wanted to feel that kind of love, I wanted to be one of them.  And for once, feel that kind of attention. But life is way more complicated than that. I told him not to worry about it. I never want to add stress to his life. In fact I never want to add stress to anyone’s life. I have been accepting apologies and enabling people my whole life, allowing those who are close to me to hurt me. I had an epiphany that day when he said he was sorry as he often had said before. The epiphany is that I am willing to be seconds or even thirds because I have never been anyone’s priority.

That makes me an amazing wife, since my husband can put work, the kids, his parents…anything ahead of my needs. How easy and carefree for him, to have his personal attendant, who requires nothing back. Oh, and the kids, the ones I pretty much raised alone, since dad was so busy at building his ego with the accolades of his job. Well, any parent knows raising children is thankless. I don’t really even want them to make me their priority anyway, but if their dad would have shown some to me, maybe they would know how to care about me, not just want something from me. But it doesn’t matter, because they are grown now and they are givers like I am. I hope they find givers back.

I suppose I can thank my parents in some way for the role I have played.Stuck between the beloved older sister and pampered little brother, I was the classic over achieving, peace keeping, ”please look at me” middle child. After a while you start believing there really is nothing you can do that IS good enough. Not the good grades, not the starring role in the school play, which no one came to see, not even marrying the man they wanted me to marry. Then the cycle of family life began. The kids, the job, the house, the bills.  I was in it, good!  So I did it, I did what all I had to do. This was most everything. She is so capable!

Fast forward and the kids are grown, but nothing else has changed. The result of being no one’s priority is a desperate loneliness with which I have a hard time putting onto the page. The feeling is so strong, at times, it consumes me. My only escape from it is to distract from it, such as in the form of my sweet friend, who when he is not being a dad, is often times texting me with indecent thoughts. For hours we chat, and speak about nothing. The rare times we can see each other, we hardly say a word, and the energy consumes us both, with quiet inhales and intense holds of tangled arms and silent breaths. I am filling his void, just like he fills mine.

Why do I let him? You would not ask if you had understood the desperation I feel. One is willing to take a corner of moldy bread when they are starving.

Holding on to nothing

Why did I choose you?  Was there something in the way you ignore me that makes me want you more?

Is it the hurt that I crave? Am I so desperate to feel, that I am willing to take your punch in my heart.

I keep coming back and you welcome me in. Like a sticky web of the long arms and legged spider calling me in and trapping me in your tangled mess. The game you play, do you know you are playing it? Do you know I am caught into it? Of course you do, and you enjoy it, laughing inside at how I crave you.  Feeling the rush of knowing I can’t stay away all the while knowing how weak you really are, knowing, you are not deserving of my affections, hurting your own life by dangling me in your heart, frustrated that I reside in there.  Cancel me out, blow it out of your mind, the way I smell and the way I touch you. No…you can’t…because it is my sinister desire to own you like you own me…..try it again, I know you have tried……pull away and see how long you can go….can you forget me while the hint of my skin continues to haunt you…..?

 

Can’t find a replacement

…and it sucks. I cheated on the almost-ex with two different men, because he didn’t give me the attention that I needed. Just ONCE, I wanted to be at the top of the list. I never was with him. So, I cheated, and I felt alive again, even if it was just for a short weekend away with the first guy.

I miss him terribly. I screwed up. I didn’t actually “lie” to him, but I was not 100% forthcoming in the information I chose to share, or not. He was my friend. We talked, ALOT. I miss that. I miss his gorgeously chiseled face. I miss his height. I miss his gorgeous blue eyes. I even miss sending him the dorky “good morning, have a nice day” texts as I was walking into work every day. I miss the way that he paid attention to me. He listened to me and made me feel like what I had to say mattered. Even though that weekend was three years ago, there isn’t a single day that passes that I don’t think about him.

I just want to know WHY he stopped responding to me? Why did it have to end with him ignoring me from across the country. We talked about me moving out there to be with him. We discussed schools for my kids. It seemed like he was my true soul mate. And now, I sit alone–drinking away the emptiness, wondering what could have been if I had been 100% honest with him.

Reflections of a young, strained marriage

I’m not sure what I expected out of my marriage.  Fireworks?  Love? Romance 24/7?  I may have gotten love, but not the other two. I get down on myself for possibly knowing (albeit subconsciously) before we got married that I wouldn’t have fireworks and romance, but willfully chose to ignore it under the guise of possibly being happy/living “happily ever after.” I blame myself. I blame myself for our sexless, strained relationship. I get angry with myself for not being clearer to myself on what I wanted out of a husband and honestly evaluating him more closely. I criticize myself for not opening up my eyes wider and realizing the situation.

My husband makes me laugh almost every day, but there’s no physicality to us.  I have to solicit hugs and kisses. I’ve done it so much I’m starting to seriously resent it and not care if I get a good night/good bye kiss, hug, etc. anymore.  We’ve been married for almost a year and have had sex once in the last 4 months. I wonder if the spark is gone, if he’s not attracted to me anymore, if it’s something I’ve done. If it’s none of these things, which may be even worse. If he just didn’t have a reason. Just a lost desire. I’ve tried well over a dozen times to initiate intimacy with no success. It’s started to wear on me. It hasn’t started; it HAS worn me down.

Is this my fate? Will I be in this relationship limbo for the rest of my life? Will I end up divorced and just a statistic? I don’t want to hurt anyone, but at what point do I realize I’m hurting myself too much? If I had to rate the percentage of the time I am happy it would be less than half. I either am worried about my husband (what he’s thinking, feeling, doing, etc) or concerned with my actions and what he’ll think of them, or the like.

Am I legally bound to live with regrets for the rest of my life? Should I have made a different decision? Is this REALLY what life is supposed to be like? Walking on eggshells and hating myself for it and the reasons behind it? Me cow-towing to his every request and whim, hoping and praying it will make him like me more? What kind of sixth grade logic is that? That’s like doing your classmate’s homework hoping they’ll notice you or ask you to the dance afterwards. It doesn’t happen. Why can’t I remember that when I’m an emotional wreck? Why can’t I just take care of myself first and best? Why can’t he be more responsive when I try to address our problems?

In an effort of self-preservation, I’m wondering about the possibility of seeking physical gratification elsewhere. My husband has once joked that if I’m so sexually needy maybe I should hire someone to take care of my needs. I think he was joking. Sometimes I think he wasn’t, though. However, joking or not, the situation has recently presented itself. An old flame. One of those “we almost had sex but never did” partners. If we would have had one more time together it probably would have gotten that far. However, he’s not “the one that got away.” Just someone I was/am fiercely attracted to (and he to me) but never went “all the way.” We were never devoted to one another, it was a fleeting relationship of convenience, but a powerful one. More serious, long-term relationships and statuses got in the way of pursuing something further than just making out, unfortunately. He made a last plea to me in the months leading up to my wedding last year: asking me if there was any chance I wasn’t going to get married, if there was some room for him in my life before I did, that he’d be willing to travel to me if I could spend even one night with him. I easily wrote him off and said no. I hadn’t thought of him much since the wedding until he emailed me about 10 days ago. Several flirtatious emails later, we have a date set to meet. We don’t live in the same city (or time zone) but he is making a special trip to where I live for one day only. After all, we only need one day.

I’m trying to rationalize if sleeping with him will make me feel better about my life. Will it fill one of my voids? I feel like I have so many and I’m desperate to plug them. I just want to feel better. Will meeting this person, whom I don’t know very well but feel semi-strongly toward, make me partially whole? Will it make me less resentful to my husband for neglecting me? Will it make the lack of sex and excitement more palatable? Will it make it OK?  Is it worth risking? Is there in fact any risk involved? He really has no risk, his wife (he also is a newlywed, but only of two months) will never know, she has no potential of “catching” him. He’s away on business, something he regularly does. It won’t raise any alarm bells with her. But with me, there are hazards.

What will I tell my husband? I can’t exactly tell him “hey hon, I’m fed up with your bullshit and lack of any sex drive or feelings towards me, so I’m going to go spend a (what definitely promises to be) blissful Friday with this man who is physically superior to you in almost every way?” Instead, I’m already coming up with a lie. A situation that won’t raise eyebrows and that’s plausible enough to get me a day to myself without any contact for 8-10 hours. I want to be selfish, something I’m never afforded. I want to enjoy myself. I want to be pampered and appreciated. I want to be touched. What I don’t want is to be reminded I’m in a crappy marriage with no possibility of children (a whole ‘nother issue, for sure) with no hope of anything changing. And if I do get caught, what will the repercussions be? If you neglect someone for nearly a year, what can you honestly expect to happen? For them to stop what feels natural to them and deprive them of physical pleasure?

And no, this isn’t just about sex. It’s about the emotionally gratifying responses that sex brings. I’ve been in a better mood since I started emailing with my “friend” than I have been in the past two months. When we finally set a date I was ecstatic. I bounced around all day with anticipation and excitement. Our date is in two weeks and I fully expect to be in a happy mood until then. After all, half of the joy of any big event is the anticipation leading up to it. I’m thinking of what I’ll wear to meet him, how I’ll do my hair, if I should get it cut, etc. I feel giddy, something I haven’t felt since before I got married.

If I do cheat on my husband and it does satisfy part of whatever’s missing inside me, what happens when it’s a long time until I get it again? Will I delve into a deeper depression? Will this tryst become a “gateway drug” of sorts and just make me want more the next time? Where does it stop? Should I even worry about it?

picture courtesy of Google Images

How I became a better wife

A few weeks ago you may have read a post about a woman who was torn between her loving husband and her unresolved feelings for her ex-boyfriend.

That was me.

I’d like to say that I did the responsible thing and politely cut off all ties with the ex. That’s not what happened. Not even close, actually. About a week after my anonymous pseudo-cry-for-help, the casual conversation with said ex-boyfriend escalated to a casual hang out (with witnesses, of course). We talked, trying to catch up after so many years. I guess the other friends felt like they were intruding, because they excused themselves to go buy a drink or have a smoke, or maybe both. With no one around, talking quickly turned to flirting. It felt nice to be flirted with.

Our friends came back and suddenly we were sitting farther apart, just talking. It was like a game, almost. Acting innocent when they were around, getting a little closer while they weren’t. The loud atmosphere gave me the excuse to talk into his ear so he could hear me, my hand resting on his shoulder. My friend said she had to head home because she had work early in the morning. I wasn’t ready yet. There was so much more I wanted to say. I mentioned that he would give me a ride.

She saw right through me, “What are you doing? This is a stupid idea.”

“We’re just catching up. Just friends. Come on, you know me. I wouldn’t do anything stupid.”

She was mad, and rightly so. But she reluctantly left me there with him. It wasn’t long before we decided to head out as well. I’d like to say that he dropped me off at home and we went our separate ways, but that’s not what happened at all. Not even close.

Before you jump to conclusions, nothing adulterous happened between him and me that night, or any night for that matter. But we both wanted to, and you could cut the tension with a knife. We sat there, cuddling in the sort of laying/sitting position we used to do all those years ago. He asked me what I was doing, and I told him I didn’t know. He told me he didn’t want me to do something that I would regret. I have a family, a lot to lose. He didn’t, but he just couldn’t do that to me. He took me home, and that was that. I actually haven’t talked to him since.

I went home and thought and slept, and thought some more. I almost did something really stupid. Something that could have ruined the life I built with my husband. But it did something to me. Even though he didn’t do or change anything, I saw my husband in a different way. He was the man who stood in front of me all those years ago and agreed to stand beside me, for better or worse. Not the boy who took the easy way out when things got tough. He loves me, and I love him. He fathered my children, and is the most amazing dad I know. No one could replace him, and I am doing my best to show him that.

70′s chick

I was in my car when I got his call.  A teenage sweethart from the early 70′s. He had the long hair and beard, jacked up car, and rode a motorcycle. You know–the type that your parent did not want their sun-soaked daughter to go with.  Something was very different about him. He was from a broken home and my home was in perfect order.  He was the first boy I dated that had a car. My parents learned to like him.  They always told me that he had taught them something.  It was not what you looked like on the outside but how kind your heart was.  He had a kind heart. But that was the 70′s, and eventually I moved on.

My daddy was diagnosed with colon cancer and not going to take treatments.  But one day when I was visiting, he asked about this guy I used to date. He could not recall his name (Daddy is 81 years old).  I knew who he was talking about.  I contacted his wife on Facebook and soon got a reply. He called and spoke with my daddy.  During that conversation he asked about me and my life. He asked if it would be okay if he called to say hello to me.  It had been 40 years or more since we had talked or seen one another.  I got the call on a Tuesday afternoon in my car.  We talked and talked. We had a history, time had marched on for both of us, we both had families, sick parents and had shared our first sexual experience with each other in the backseat of a Mustang. You never forget stuff like that. I even asked his wife (also via Facebook) if it was ok that we spoke on the phone.  Oh yes, no trust issues with us is what she told me.  We spoke and texted four or five times daily.  I loved it.  I felt feelings I had not felt in years.  I felt fifteen again.

During one of our conversations sex came up. We joked about the Mustang and how we managed to do what we did. He then told me he wanted to hold my face in his hands and kiss my lips tenderly. My heart melted.  I wanted to hear more. I too wanted to hold him and kiss him too–to take away all his doubts I felt he was encountering.  About six weeks later he called to tell me he was feeling guilty  and felt he was cheating on his wife.  He told me he was alot of things but was not a cheater. After he said those words to me I waited about fifteen seconds and I hung up the phone.  I have not heard from him since. I miss my day-to-day contact with him. I do not know what happened.  I am left with such confusion and I am the one with self doubt. My heart is broken. My husband suspects nothing.

How could he leave me when he wasn’t even here?  I miss him.

Crying to be open

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eyes crying to be open.

Inhale the sweetness of this life.
However short, however long.
Keep me in this place called home.
However short, however long.

Waking daily to the push.
A pace too harsh of this sad shell.
Feeble may be what you make me.
Test me now or when in hell.

Show your face you silent coward.
Lay me in the fog and mire.
Strip me of my laugh and heart.
My soul is filled with awe from tire.

Shredded paper of my living.
Dragging one foot in the sand.
Limbs are dangling thick and heavy.
Yet, my eyes are crying to be open.

Crying to be open………….”

Rest in peace

Dear Dad,

I hope that you are finally at peace. It has been 40 years since you took a shotgun, placed it between your legs and pulled the trigger with your toes.

I can’t say that I was bereaved. I didn’t feel much of anything except great relief that you would no longer be there to torment me. I was glad that you were dead. I found in you nothing that was redeemable. You were the terror in my life. You were the fear I lived with every single day.

Now, that 40 years have passed, I have come to the place where I am seeing for the first time some of the good things you gave to me. There are some good memories that I can grab on to and dream that you loved me.

I remember the swing set that you built for me and my sister. It was a masterpiece. There is a picture of me pushing “B” on the swing and there was delight in both of our faces.

I remember a trip that you took to Wyoming to hunt for deer. You brought me a beautiful necklace and to this day I can still see the image within it.

I remember the tee-pee you created and had mother sew for us. It was made from old car seat covers. We had fun playing in it and pretending that we were Native American princesses.

I remember the one and only birthday card you ever sent to me and you signed it “Love Dad.” You must have loved me! I never knew.

So, dad, I do hope that you have found peace because I have finally found the peace that I’ve been searching for.

 

Caught between

I’ve always prided myself on being a level-headed kind of person. I’ve always made the best decision I could, never letting things get too out of control. I’m not a big fan of drinking because I like to keep a clear head. So why would I let that go out the window? I’ve been faithfully committed to my husband for over 7 years now. We have the most beautiful children who look nothing like me and everything like him. We have an amazing relationship, and I really have nothing to complain about. He treats me well, he overlooks all of my flaws, my neurosis, and even my indecisiveness. He’s great, really he is.

In comes the ex-boyfriend. I’ve been in touch with this particular ex for a few years now. We even reconnected and hung out a few years ago. Nothing weird or awkward, just two friends hanging out. My husband, not the jealous type, had no issues with it.

I don’t know what changed in those few years, but the most recent time I saw him it was like someone reached into my chest and ripped out my heart. Butterflies, blushing cheeks, the works. Worse than that, we also had a great relationship. It was cut short when one of us had to move away and we weren’t strong enough to handle the distance. It was never resolved. And now almost 10 years later, it needs to be. And quick. I know how this goes. I have children and a husband and I love them and would never do anything to hurt them. But it feels like I’m being pulled in two directions. Unfortunately, I’m not the only one who feels this way. This needs to be resolved. Now.

I don’t know what to do.

I know what to do.

But I don’t want to.

I kind of want to mess up for once in my life, but I know that’s a bad idea. I always read people’s stories about cheating and I immediately judge them. How could they do that? What is wrong with them? Isn’t marriage sacred anymore? I’m sorry for judging you. I was naive, and now I know how you feel.

Going in circles

I’m having one of those days when I don’t know what to do with myself. There are a number of things I could be doing, but I just sit and play games on the computer or keep checking my e-mails hoping to hear from someone. For the past several days I have kept myself busy knitting, reading, working with clay and trying to draw. I have myself going in circles. I feel that I am being blind-sided with a big circle of nothing. I would like to work with the clay, but am afraid that I will make a mess and I don’t know what to make anyway. I would like to draw, but my fear of it not being perfect keeps me from doing it. FEAR, the word that stops me from doing anything that I would like to do. My perception that whatever I do has to be perfect the first time stops me in my tracks.I keep waiting for inspiration, a vision of something I could paint, draw or make out of clay. There is nothing and I’m afraid to find out if there is.

So, the only thing I can think of right now is to write and say what is going on in my head. Writing can sometimes break loose the block of fear and allow me to “just do it.” I feel anxious and restless. I want to do something but I want to be able to finish it and I think it is too late in the day to start anything. I don’t want to be interrupted. In my mind, everything has to be perfect for me to even begin a project. This is another block I put in my way before I can do anything. Maybe I really don’t want to do anything and I am just looking for excuses not to start.

Have you ever had a day like this?