Maybe

So. Maybe I was wrong. I honestly, truly believed that I wouldn't hear from Lullabies again.

But baseball...ugh, he gets me with baseball every single time. Fuck me.

But the facts still remain, I still feel don't feel anxious. I still wasn't excited to see his number pop up on my phone. He hasn't responded and unlike before, I don't care. I'm not checking my phone every five minutes...ok, seconds, every five seconds to see if he's responded. I'm not anticipating what he'll say next so I can come back with something equally clever. I'm not hoping our discussion about baseball will eventually lead to him asking me out. But fuuuuuck! I was just so caught up in being right about baseball, yet AGAIN, that it wasn't until after I hit 'send' that I felt a sense of regret creeping over me. Regret of the possibility of letting him open that big ol fucking can of bullshit he always seems to have.

But maybe, just maybe this wasn't a cheap ploy to get me to talk to him. Maybe this is the start to that whole Batman movie line about smiling at each other from across the room friendship thing I've been wanting. Maybe. Who knows. Perhaps my newly found sense of peace that he had finally let me go, is really just my peace of mind. Peace of mind that no matter what he throws my way, I will never again fall for him or his devil penis magic. 

Peace, Love & Baseball,

Privileged

For the longest time I was sad, bitter, angry, anxious and disappointed about things ending with Lullabies. I went from never believing in true love, to finding my soulmate, to realizing that I would have to let him go, within such a short period of time. I wish it would have lasted just a little longer.

But I'm not bitter anymore. I'm glad he loved me and thankful he taught me that I can be loved exactly as I am.

And with that, I'm no longer anxious. Suddenly out of nowhere, the anxiety I had with last week's text, lifted.  Letting him go was hard, it was even harder to do when he wouldn't let me go. But somehow I know, that he has.

While things between he and I didn't work out the way I would have liked them to have, I still believe that it all worked out exactly how it needed to. So for that, I will forever be grateful for the change he made in me. And so now my little black heart is just a little bit bigger and a little less black. Thank you Lullabies, I will always love you.

Peace, Love & Baseball,

Enough

I don't give a fuck what anyone says, I know Lullabies was the dude made for me. As gay as it sounds, it's like we have tethered souls or something equally gay as that. It's like this, I always know when that dude is thinking of me, looking for an excuse to talk to me. I can always just feel 'it'. Everyone laughs at me, dismisses me and tells me I'm crazy but then...BAM! Incoming text. Every. Single Time. It's like a discount Walmart version of Spidey Sense...you know, the whole 'with great power comes great responsibility' thing but more like, 'with great power comes a great big sack of bullshit'...who needs that?!? Obviously, I do...because life is a funny little bitch who likes giving it to me in the ass any chance she gets.

I had always said that I never wanted to live in a world where Lullabies existed and we weren't, at the very least, friends. But things change and people rearrange. I read an article today that said, "If two past lovers can remain friends, either they never were in love or they still are" I don't know where he and I lie. Maybe somewhere in between the two but what I do know is, that we can't be friends. In fact, I don't want him as a friend. He's a shitty fucking friend. While I love him and I always will, I just know that I'm tired of him and his bullshit. So when he texted me this past weekend, I wasn't surprised. However, unlike before, I didn't feel giddy when I saw his text pop up. I wanted to respond but not like I have in the past with a cute inside joke or some other witty remark. More than anything, I just wanted to tell him that he was a shitty friend and that there just wasn't any sense in texting me anymore. But I couldn't do that either. To me, it felt like telling him anything along those lines wouldn't be any type of fun and it would make me seem like...I don't know...manipulative? Desperate? Crazy ex-girlfriendish? Whatever. But on the other hand, I felt like ignoring him would come across as a game. Bitches always say, "Silence speaks volumes'. But I don't have volumes to say and I never want to be a bitch to his asshole. I just want him to figure his shit out, leave me out of the equation and if our paths ever cross again one day, I want that whole Batman movie line about smiling at each other from across the room thing. So while I was going back and forth over what to do, I had a revelation: I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck. Anymore. Yeah, it was weird how it hit me. To love someone with every fiber of my being, to know that this man was made for me but to still not give a fuck what he thinks or feels...totally surreal. So I decided on not texting him back. Why say anything? Or give a fuck how he interprets my silence when the bottom line is, I don't fucking care anymore. I never thought I'd be here but thankfully, I am. Now I can move the fuck on. FINALLY.

The thing is, the 'it' feeling hasn't gone away yet. So while I say that I don't care, I can't help but to wonder what his next move is and more importantly, what mine will be.

Peace, Love & Baseball,

 

Day One?

If there is one thing that Lullabies is totally consistent with, it's disappointment.

If there is one thing that I'm totally consistent with, its my inability to say no to that dick.

I had plans to see Lullabies on Wednesday night, the night before his birthday. I had every intention of walking in, pushing him down on the sofa, give him my signature porn star blow job and walk out. You know, go out with guns a blazin'. But true to form, he cancelled. Some bullshit about having a bad day at work and not wanting to be around people. What. The. Fuck. Ever.

So I went to the bar to have a drink, wait for the sun to go down and drop off Lullabies' birthday gift at the door.

Everything went as planned until that fucker texted me that I should have knocked. He says he wants to be left alone, until I'm close and then he wants me there?!? I didn't buckle. I didn't go back. But before I pat myself on the back, it had everything to do with the fact that I had a flat tire. Had my tire not been flat, I probably would have gone back...and fucked him senseless.

While I was determined to leave him alone on Wednesday, the absence of his dick in me as planned, made it impossible.

I was confident that playing golf on Thursday would distract me. But it didn't. I went over there. We talked, laughed, goofed around, had sex, cuddled and fell asleep. Bullshit.

As much as I failed on my first day, two things happened. First, I woke up at 3am and left. I didn't stay cuddled up with him like he wanted me to. Second, he said 2 very fucked up things to me.

The first was him being relieved that I had decided to give up dating and the other I can't remember, except that it was really bad...but not bad enough for me to not fuck the living shit out of him.

He didn't get the porn star blow job I was originally going to give him but I still fucked him every which way but loose. *shrug* What can I say? I'm a really weak and horny woman.

Yesterday he texted me about the night before. I should have known something was up. He was inquisitive about the night before. He wasn't joking or reminiscing about the night before like he normally does.

Last night I saw Magic Mike and the only thing I wanted after watching that movie, was his dick in and around me. But I didn't text him. I didn't fuck him. I texted him right before the movie started goofing on him about an inside joke. After 2 hours and ten fucking glorious minutes of Magic Mike, that mother fucker hadn't texted back.

So I started thinking. This is what he does. He gets close just to pull away. He's the one with the kissing and the cuddling and the jealousy...not me. He's the one always pushing shit forward just to push me the fuck away.

Who needs this bullshit? Who needs someone who only texts when he's drunk? Not this bitch. So I blocked him.

Today I woke up angry.

I woke up fed up.

Today, he can go suck his own dick.

Fuck Lullabies.

Peace, Love & Baseball,

...It's Time

Fucking Guero, my older son. So stupid, yet so insightful when it comes to me.

When he was 13 and I was losing my shit over Fuckface, he calmly looked at me and said, "Mom. He's playing you. Why do you let him do that to you?" How fucked up is that? How shitty is it when your 13 year old son knows you're being played...and you can't? At that moment I realized that kids know you just as well as you know them. Now if only he can get his shit together and move the fuck up out of my house.

When I decided it was time for Guero to meet Lullabies, I asked him how he felt about it. He told me that he didn't want to meet him. I was shocked. He's never really cared about who I date. He's not protective of me like my younger son, Sir Shits A Lot. SSAL, is CRAZY protective of me. HE'S the one I worry about introducing to new men in my life. Anyhow, when I asked Guero why he didn't want to meet Lullabies, a man that I really thought I was going to marry, he told me, "I don't want to meet another guy who's going to fuck you over and make you cry. I don't need to be able to picture the face of the man that broke my mom's heart. No thanks." 

At first I was offended. Then flattered. Then dismissive. I was sure that Lullabies and I were the real thing. Little did I know. 

My mom is a Jehovah's Witness. As a kid I wasn't allowed to celebrate holidays. Now that I'm an adult certain holidays are a big fucking deal to me. St. Patrick's Day, Halloween, the 4th of July, my birthday. Yes. Yes,  I do consider my birthday a fucking holiday. Get over it.

I am KNOWN to randomly text people a count down to my birthday. You can count on me to let anyone and everyone willing to listen know it's my birthday. I'm like a 4 year every fucking year. Except this year.

This year, I thought I was going to have a boyfriend. This year I thought I was going to have Lullabies. So fucking stupid of me to think. 

I'm going to be 38 this year. I've never struggled with getting older. In fact it's been the opposite. I couldn't wait to get older. I couldn't wait for the people I work with to stop dismissing me as a child in the work place. 

But as my birthday is rapidly approaching, I can' help but to wonder where in the hell has my life gone. I've worked hard making my career. I've made a lot money in my life time. I've hit milestones that many people older than me haven't. I've partied my ass off. I've been adored by men. I've had the time of my life so why am I reflecting and wondering what the fuck happened to me. 

Easy. While I am adored by many, I am not loved by one. I've had so many men propose to me over the years. Good men at that. In my 20's, I thought I had time to settle down later in life. In my early 30's, I came to the conclusion that I would never find a man that would ever love me for who I am. That my life would be a string of affairs that suited my life at that particular moment. I was fine with that reality. Then HE came along. Fucking Lullabies. And now, now that I no longer have him loving me, I feel empty. 

I know he's not the one for me. I know the one that is meant for me won't leave me. I even know that if he came back, I would' take him back but that doesn't stop me from missing him...ok, honestly? Obsessing, it doesn't stop me from obsessing over him. I know he will always have a special place in my heart. I know he and I will always be friends. But I know I can't be that now. It just hurts so fucking much. 

So I made the decision tonight that he can't have my 38th year. I won't let him make me sad. I won't let him make me cry. I won't allow myself to secretly hold on to the hope that I bury, and even hide from myself, deep down in me. So I told him tonight that I hope he finds his happiness, that I wish him nothing but the best, that no one has ever made me laugh the way he did and I blocked him. 

I know it's for the best. I know it is because it hurts. But I guess it's better to take my hurt in one lump sum and get it over with than to take it in pieces over the next whoever knows how many years it'll take me to let go of him.

Leaving someone I love is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. And after my ex husband, I never thought I'd ever have to do this again. 

I wish I could say 'fuck love' but I know love is the one thing I really want, so I won't.

Peace, Love & Baseball,

*Sigh*

Seriously.

I'm not angry. I'm not butt hurt.

I thought he was different. I thought we were different.

I think I'm disappointed. I wish I could be angry. Angry is familiar. I can do angry. But disappointment, eh...? Disappointment is just an emotional hang over of hope and faith. Two things I RARELY allow myself to indulge in. What do you do with disappointment? Swallow two reality pills and sleep it off?

It's super disappointing to see that this "great connection" I thought he and I shared has been reduced to nothing more than sex. Fantastic mind blowing sex but sex just the same. My boss once told me that when someone shows you their ass, you better believe it. When I walked away from him and he didn't fight for me I guess that was him showing me his ass. And this, well, I guess it's nothing more than him showing me he IS an ass. So what's a girl to do? Not a damn thing...except try not to choke on my two very large pills of reality.

Peace, Love & Baseball,

Texts From the Ex

"Hi." - Me

"Uh, hi." - Lullabies

"How have you been?" - Me

"I've been good. What happened?" - Lullabies

"Happened?" - Me

"Yeah. You disappeared." - Lullabies

'Ugh. Oh. That." - Me

"?" - Lullabies

"I was hoping to avoid this conversation but if you really want to know, I'll tell you." - Me

"I wouldn't of asked if I didn't want to know." - Lullabies

"Ugh. Ok. You asked..." - Me

"When we were together it was you who would ask to see me everyday. It was you who asked for me to keep things at your place. It was you who went out of his way to make things comfortable for me in your home. I didn't ask anything of you. It was you who pulled away because it was "too much." I understood. I got it. So we became friends. I left you alone. I stopped inviting you to things. I started dating. We texted every day. We had sex. Things were fine until you pulled away again. I could only assume our friendship had become "too much." I could no longer deny that it was me that was "too much." Here I had given you everything you wanted and yet it was still "too much." So it stopped being fun. It didn't feel good anymore. Then suddenly, from one moment to the next, everything changed. I had a dream about you and in my dream you were familiar but we weren't. It was weird. From the day we started talking, I could see you always being in my life. Then when we got together,  I could see you being my life. I saw us married, having fantastic sex, always laughing until we couldn't breath, always geeking out together. But then after that dream, I could no longer see you in my life. It was clear to me my life is not supposed to be you. So I do what I do, I stopped." - Me

"It wasn't you." - Lullabies

"That's not important." - Me

"You couldn't at least say something?" - Lullabies

"Ha! No you sweet silly man. I warned you from day one. When I'm finally done, I'm done. No need for a talk or all the dramatics that come with it. It may take a while but when I'm ready to leave, I leave." - Me.

"But there was no warning. No explanation." - Lullabies

"Where you confused? Like seriously confused? Where you at home scratching your head wondering why I wouldn't respond?? Surely you are smarter than that. Surely you must know I am smarter than that. You made it clear I was not welcomed here. So I left. It was time to go.  Don't left your ego "confuse" you. Don't let it convince you I was were you wanted to be. And don't think for a second I'm going to let your ego confuse me into being drawn back to you." - Me

Peace, Love & Baseball,

Defining Moments

Most people like defining moments. They say they make you stronger. They show you what you're made of. I could give a fuck about defining moments. I don't want to know what I'm made of. I don't what to know if I'm strong. Ignorance is bliss for a fucking reason. Maybe that's just me. I would rather not have that sick, twisted feeling in the pit of my stomach when something I thought would work out one way, doesn't. Who needs that??? Well, I guess I do.

There have been so many "defining moments" that have clearly defined what Michigan doesn't feel for me. But again, I'm forever a slave to the "what ifs" defying all reason in doing what I know is right for me. I most recently decided to call it quits and give Michigan the boot when he left me high and dry for a trip we had planned 2 months ago to go to Kansas City to see the San Francisco Giants play. He canceled a day and a half before we were supposed to leave. Anyone who knows me, knows I am a diehard Giants fan. Every time I see them step out onto the field, it's like seeing Paul McCartney for the first time. I tear up, I get goose bumps and I suddenly come down with a case of tourettes screaming in excitement. I grew up in the 'Stick. I used to see my boys in orange in black several times a month, every month, through out the season. I've been fortunate.  For as long as I've been watching them, they have never sucked. We've been to 4 World Series' and out of those 4 we've won 2. Not bad. Unfortunately, I was a complete and total dick growing up. I, for no reason, decided to hate my dad. I did lots of things to rub my disdain for my dad in his face. My crowning jewel was to pretend to be a Dodgers fan. Talk about a scorching knife right to the heart. As a kid, I wouldn't allow to myself to outwardly express my love for my team. I am a woman of little regrets, but not taking advantage of being amongst my fellow fans and pretending to be a Dodger fan just to spite my dad is my biggest regret. Now that I'm an adult and see the error of my ways, I tragically live in fucking Tex-ASS. I'm not even close enough to take a weekend road trip to see them play. So when I do see my team, it's absolutely special and I cherish it. Michigan knows this. He knows what this trip meant to me. Michigan had an epiphany two weeks before our trip. His best friend died of leukemia two years ago and recently had another friend diagnosed with ALS. Faced with his mortality he came to me and told me that he needed to make changes in his life. That he finally understood that we only live once and he recognizes that he has fallen into a rut of just working and golfing. He said that after his mom passed away that he took it upon himself to put his life on hold to make sure that his dad was ok but just when he was ready to start doing things for himself, his dad had a triple bypass and gall bladder surgery. But now, he sees that he needs to live his life and do what makes him happy and supposedly, I make him happy. He said he knew he needed to make an effort to see me. An effort to show me how much he cares for me. I bought it. Hook. Line. And mother fucking sinker. 

He canceled because supposedly his assistant fell. Her tumble was so bad that she was looking at the possibility of surgery. He was waiting on X-rays and MRIs for confirmation. But even if she hadn't fell, he was working on an appointment with a builder on a big project he was trying to land. I don't know about you but I smell good ol' fashioned BULL-MOTHERFUCKING-SHIT. But why argue? Why call him out on it? At the end of the day, he doesn't want to go with me. Knowing why he doesn't isn't important. I know what I need to know.  But is anything ever really that simple? Nope. Not for me. I have a taste for complicated bullshit. For Michigan is one of my customers. Yup, he and my boss are tight. In fact, my boss asked Michigan if he knew anyone in Tex-ASS who would be good in my current position. Michigan without hesitation recommended me. When I travel and party on business trips with my boss, Michigan knows every fucking detail. He is even given any photographs documenting our adventures. So writing Michigan off isn't as easy as it should be. Fuck me for breaking my one cardinal rule, to NEVER pick up my meat where I get my bread. In the 17 years I have been in this industry, I have never ever even once considered giving my number to anyone, much less date anyone. Why do I do this to myself?!? Knowing I had a fine line to walk, I told Michigan that I could remain friends with him if he refrained from talking about what he and I had. How could I have ever expected a man who left me high and dry for a trip that meant the world to me, a man who has done nothing but show me apathy for the past 7 months, to respect my wishes??? 

The brother of the friend who died of leukemia invited Michigan to go to Vegas with he and his wife to get away since Michigan is struggling with his mortality. Michigan asked me what I thought. I told him that he should go because we only live once. That opportunities are fleeting and he needed to take them when he had them. He joked about stopping in Tex-ASS on his way to Nevada. At the time I believed I'd be ok with him going. I didn't even question it. I didn't think it would matter to me. But god damn those defining moments. Those fucking moments that check your gut...and fuck you up. Today, after him texting me only to ignore me all of yesterday, he tells me that he decided to go to Vegas. BAM! Defining moment, in the form of a roundhouse kick right to my mother fucking face. When I read his text, it felt like he kicked me in the stomach. This mother fucker couldn't go on a trip he had planned with me for 2 months, yet he can go on a last minute trip to Vegas??? I can't even begin to imagine what a last minute ticket from Michigan to Vegas is. And then suddenly it hit me. I don't want to be friendly with this guy. Being friendly with this guy just gives him more opportunities to shit on me. To shit on me like it's nothing. Like it's my lot in life. So what to do? Do I trust what he said in the beginning when he promised me that if things didn't work out, that he wouldn't fuck with my career or do I suck it up, take my medicine and walk that line? 

I find myself, again, torn between what I know I need to do and what I want to do. I guess what I need is another defining moment...another gut check to show me what I'm made of, to let me know how strong I really am. Fuck defining moments. 

Peace, Love & Baseball,