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random babblings, flights of fancy, oh and the odd dollop of creative writing ....

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A Shout Out To My Ex

Why I am doing this now, almost three years after the breakup and two years since we last spoke, I don’t really know. I barely shed a tear when we ended, and the one or two that I did shed were mainly down to annoyance at myself, that I put up with your antics for so long.  But to be honest, it is more than time that some of this stuff went on record. You were so sweet and so lovely to me when we met, and I believe that was genuine at the time, and to this day I can’t understand how someone could change so utterly. Looking back, thought, the red flags were always there. Before we’d even met in person, you’d pulled back when I expressed nervousness about meeting. If I ever committed the cardinal sin of saying you sounded low, or unsure about us, or - heaven forbid! - asking for reassurance, it would result in a freeze-out that would last for days. You helped make our one-year anniversary extra memorable, for instance, by blanking me for three days over something trivial right after we’d had what I thought was a lovely couple of days away together to celebrate. If I ever had to change the slightest detail of a meet-up, a rescheduling or even just a slight delay in being able to get there, you’d try to call it all off. At least once you literally ended things with me because I said I couldn’t make a planned meet-up after all. You know what, I wish I’d just called your bluff and taken back my life much sooner. You publicly wrote what amounted to a love poem TO SOMEONE ELSE and seemed perplexed as to why I would have a problem with that. You ruined three meets for me, which is quite an accomplishment given that you were only on two of them.  You sneered at the town I grew up in, the town I love for all its faults. You ruined a fun evening in a fun place with nice people because you were homesick for fucking Chinawhite, or wherever else you deemed ‘good enough’ for you. If you want the truth, that weekend was the beginning of the end for me. First off you announced at the last minute you weren’t coming after all. Then you changed your mind back and I ended up wishing you hadn’t. You were so rude to some of my dearest friends, including the person who’d been kind enough to drive you there in the first place, and also the owner of the B&B where we stayed, someone I’ve been friends with since I was 16. You spent the evening after the meet giving me the silent treatment because someone flipped you the V on the street, like it was my fault because I’d apparently committed the unforgivable sin of stopping to speak to him in the first place. (Oh, by the way, you continued this theme delightfully the time you ripped me a new one for stopping in the street to sign a petition to stop a children’s acute care ward from closing: ‘You shouldn’t stop for these people,’ quote unquote.) You were still pulling your Princess Elsa act the next morning and I still didn’t walk, why? Because I was stupid enough to be concerned for you. You didn’t seem in a good place, but after the way you treated me you’re lucky I gave a damn about your feelings any more. I should have left you to stew in your sulk, and at the end of that weekend, when you superciliously announced, ‘I knew you wouldn’t go,’ I so wished that I had. I have so many regrets about almost every aspect of our relationship.  I regret that I didn’t care enough to get angry enough about the way I was treated. I made too many excuses for you, put up with way too much. But I mostly regret that I didn’t call you out more on the way you treated people I cared for. It was like if you knew someone was important to me, that was a reason to be shitty to them - and then you made ME out to be the insecure one. What a joke. You’d post the most horrible things online about MY FRIENDS and expect me to cheer you on, then sulk when I didn’t. You’d purposely stir up trouble and then get on Viber to me boasting about how you were ‘kicking some butt today’, no you weren’t. You were just being nasty for the sheer fun of being nasty. You almost drove more than one of my dearest friends away with your bizarre behaviour towards them. If you want the truth, I consider myself lucky they still speak to me. There were many, MANY occasions when I was ashamed to have anything to do with you. ‘The Defiant’? Don’t make me laugh. ‘The Psycho’ would have been closer to the mark. I had so much going on in my life, but any show of weakness - or, heaven forbid, tears - was treated dismissively, or, worse, with contempt. Everything had to be about you all the time; I wrote a post on here recently about how I always thought I’d know narcissism when I saw it, but failed to realise for four years straight that I was dating it, it will always be a puzzle to me how I didn’t see what was right in front of my eyes. It’s like you can’t bear any trace of human frailty around you, you can only cope with people who have larger-than-life, tougher-than-Teflon personalities with the ego to match. The rest of us - those who aren’t afraid to feel, and to admit we feel and admit we cry - well, you have a word for us, don’t you? That’s right: inexplicably, somehow WE are the cowards. And yet I let things drift on. Till finally the weekend when, in hindsight, I know I really should have told you where to stick it. It was already long overdue by that point. You flounced out of that meet on a whim, dramatically announcing that ‘this bi thing wasn’t for you.’ In hindsight I wish I’d let you go back to the hotel alone, stayed at the meet and enjoyed myself without you hanging around like a walking storm warning, but at the time I was stupid enough to care about what that meant for us, you’d become a habit by then, and my mind hadn’t yet caught up to the fact of how much better off I’d be without you. So we stood there, outside Candy Bar, the second time we’d stood outside a bar while you ruined my evening, and I let you have it, about what a bitch you were being, tears of anger streaming down my cheeks, and what did you do? You laughed in my face. And then when I walked off and left you to make your own way back, you were a bitch about that too. Did I ever get an apology for any of this? Not one that seemed even remotely sincere. (The saddest thing about that, by the way? Candy Bar was where we’d had our first kiss more than two years previously. Nice to see how much that memory meant to you.) In hindsight, I can see that you were ambivalent about me for pretty much most of the time we were (supposedly) together. That’s fine - it’s your prerogative, especially as I was similarly ambivalent about you - but I rue pretty much all the time and money I spent on our relationship. It was an expensive lesson in more ways than one. Eventually I became so indifferent to you that I couldn’t even bothered to end it. That’s how apathetic you made me. When a person never shows you their heart, never shows a modicum of fragility, of human-ness… over time, there’s something oddly repellent about that. I stopped thinking about you in a sexual way long before we ended. I didn’t even especially want to kiss you. I used to get bored sometimes when we were doing ‘stuff’ and start listening to the TV instead, do you know that? Your insensitivity towards me at times was quite the biggest anti-aphrodisiac going, you see.  I keep trying to remind myself how good it was in the beginning when you used to actually let me in on how you were feeling, when you let me know that you cared, deeply, and even needed me. But that was only one side to your persona, and it disappeared over time. You just turned total ice-queen bitch and I was left scratching my head trying to figure out why. At one time I cared enough to try to figure you out. I knew you suffered badly from premenstrual mood swings, and I sympathised, but I tolerated way too much in the name of that excuse. It ended up being easier not to call you out on stuff because you would retaliate by making the most personal and hurtful verbal attacks on me, my insecurities, my vulnerabilities, that I’d been stupid enough to reveal to you. If there was one of us that had a personality disorder, it certainly isn’t me. What you did to our relationship - to my feelings - was comparable to taking a beautifully handwritten love letter and scrawling obscenities all over it in marker felt. In the end my feelings just died, simple as that. Although you’d never have believed it, they were dead long before we ended. That was nicely done, by the way, via a random email in the middle of a busy work day - how were you to know all I would feel was relief? I could have been in bits for all you knew. But if I had been, and I’d told you so, I’d have been made to feel bad for that too. Everything is always someone else’s fault in your world, isn’t it? Your faith is so important to you, and you’re so convinced God loves you just as you are. Have you ever actually stopped to *look* at who you are? At how shabbily you treat people? And if you have, how on earth can you continue to call yourself a Christian? Oh well, that’s for your conscience to deal with now, I’m just glad to be out of the whole dysfunctional mess. Even after we broke up you still tried to mess with my head, tried to make me jealous that you were moving on, when all I felt by this point was relief. At the time you tried out your little game I was rather more concerned by the fact that my cat had narrowly escaped death after being hit by a car and how did you respond? A cursory comment about hoping she was OK, then radio silence, because I didn’t play your little game, did I. You ‘hit back’ by unfriending me on Facebook and I just wanted to laugh.  The only regret I have now is that you’ll never get to read this. You’ll never know what I really thought of you towards the end. You’ll probably never get wise and stop being such a bitch, either. So there we are, I finally said it.  

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

The Storm Is Abating (Slowly)

The past week has brought me some of the greatest pain I think I will ever feel. To realise, finally, once and for all, how deeply I really do love you… someone who will always be unavailable to me… someone I shouldn’t love, not only because my heart is committed elsewhere to someone I honestly do love, and want to learn to fall in love with again (despite how all this looks written down) but because yours is too… and to realise at the same time that you do still want me too - that by your own admission you know you could have loved me too, in a different reality - but that your heart has chosen to keep loving her, stay committed to her, do the right thing in keeping the barriers in place and not letting anyone else in… is a pain beyond words. Knowing you have made your choice in who to love, that you’re sticking with that choice, and that you are never going to let me in however many times you tell me you wish it had been different too… that has only made me love you even more, for your integrity and your commitment to her and your determination to do the right thing, despite the temptation you have admitted to feeling towards me. And the guilt and pain and all-round turmoil this all has brought me… not only over losing you, but over my emotional disloyalty to the partner I do love, who I know loves me and does so many good things for me… well, I have to be honest and say I asked for this whole mess. I know I did, and I only have myself to blame, that I’m paying the price that I am paying now. Some would say it’s not even high enough.   Karma bites.   I think I put on a pretty good act, last night, of acting un-fazed by what we discussed. The truth is I’m hurting like crazy, but at the same time last night made me realise something. I really wasn’t sure about seeing you again (and seeing you with her, at that) so soon after we talked - I didn’t know how I’d feel, or how you’d behave around me… whether things would be awkward… I have to say that on the surface of things it wasn’t awkward at all. You were your usual self as far as our friendship goes. You sat next to me, as usual. You didn’t keep your distance, either physically or in terms of how you interacted with me. You were as silly and as random and as warm as you always are. We chatted on our own for a good while, the way we do. We traded a bit of smut and innuendo, the way we do. And despite everything, being around you warmed me inside the way it always does, made me smile inside and out the way it always does.   My heart may be shattered, but remarkably, our friendship appears to be intact.   That realisation, together with the way you were with me last week, really did bring it home to me that, despite my anguish right now and despite everything we can’t be to each other, there is a friendship at the core of all this, and it’s very real, very strong and - judging by how you reacted last week to the prospect of losing it - as crucial to you as it is to me. We both know what we are to each other as friends - that part has always been as easy as breathing. We laugh together. We share. We connect. We make those little observations that we know we will both ‘get’, because we are so in tune. We still have - even if it’s only on a platonic basis - that little world of ‘us’ which makes perfect sense to us, even if no one else gets it, even our partners. We connect, as human beings, on a level that’s simply impossible to deny.   This realisation calmed me, just a little, but it’s a start. There’s still a storm raging inside me, but in realising that the connection we have built together has been far from a waste of time, I’ve felt some hope at last that the storm might abate in time, that I might be able to salvage something from the wreckage. There is something here worth rescuing, if we can, when I’ve had the time and space I need, and if I can ever muster up the inner strength to re-connect with you on a level that is purely platonic, bypassing all the attraction and emotion and frustration I know we have both felt towards each other in the past.   I love you. I love you with an intensity I’m not sure I’ve ever felt for another human being in my entire life. And I am grieving, deeply, messily, over the knowledge that although I know you love me too, it's purely as a friend. You’re committed to someone else and not in a place where you can love me the way I love you, even though I know that in another reality you could - and, by your own admission, would - have done. So don’t get me wrong. I still need that time, that distance away from you, that head space in order to adjust, to get over you, to recover from this love and try to figure out a way not to feel it any more, as impossible as it seems right now.   I won’t be there when you marry her. I hope that by then I will mostly be over this, but I honestly don’t know. Even if I am over it, it will still be too strange. Right now there are only a couple of things I do know. One is that I need time, space, distance, as much as that sounds like I’m reducing our friendship to something that sounds like a paper on quantum physics. But you’re planning to propose to her soon and I can’t be around you again until I reach a place where I can live with that without feeling like my heart is going to shatter into filaments.   The other thing I know is that you are a true friend, and I honestly, passionately hope that I can come out the other side of this and find myself in a place where I can come back to our friendship and all the good things it holds. I don’t know if I will ever be able to reach that point, but I want to try.   It’s such a cliche that friends are like stars… that you can’t always see them but you know they’re there. But a lot of cliches get to be cliches precisely because they are true. W, you are my star and I love you more than I can even put into words. I have to find a way to fall out of love with you, but I am your star too and I will always be here shining for you.   Even if my skies are too dark right now for you to see me for a while.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

Just Need To Vent

(kind of a run-on from my 'say anything' just now... some stuff I didn't want to put out there quite so publicly, but which is majorly sticking in my throat right now...) -- DH, you and I have not had full sex since 2007 thanks to your refusal to seek any medical help at all for the issues your diabetes cause in the bedroom department. Right now, due to a combination of that and the issues caused by lack of confidence, sex-wise, on your part over things you could perfectly well change, but by your own admission can't be bothered to, I've given up all hope of ever having full sex with you again. We are so limited in what we do in the bedroom that I've started not to feel it's worth bothering at all and, because I'm still expected to be faithful and desire no one else, I feel I could very well be looking at a virtually celibate future. Your inertia is infecting me and it's going to kill our marriage if we don't do something about it.   It ain't easy being monogamous under these circumstances, you know, and again I'm not sure how guilty I really need to feel about temptations towards other people when you won't even just try. It would make all the difference in the world if you just tried, even if the outcome wasn't successful. You know I am never anything other than supportive and understanding, and if you'd try, at least I'd feel like I was worth the effort. You can't help your diabetes, but you could easily do something about your 'don't-care' attitude towards me and you, and you refuse to. (You yourself raised the possibility of Viagra, but have you done a blessed thing about it? Nnnnope.) I know you're not depressed, in fact by your own acknowledgement you're pretty damn happy, but you just seem to think that the mere fact of you - the mere existence of you - should be enough to set me panting with lust, that what's on the inside should be all that counts, that outward appearances should be wholly irrelevant. That's not how these things work.   I feel like a bad person for even thinking this, and I know I have my faults too and I am really not trying to throw all the blame on to you. But if someone else's partner, by his own admission, can make an effort when he knows he's going to be in my company, and my own husband won't, I'm afraid it does put certain aspects of our marriage into rather sharp perspective.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

A Straw In My Cider

It was such a silly little thing, but that's exactly why it was so perfect. When you placed a half of cider in front of me, which you for some reason best known to yourself had decided to accessorise with a blue straw, I knew for certain our friendship hadn't changed a bit.   And the moment when I turned and looked at you like you were crazy (like you knew I would) and you burst out laughing at my expression (like I knew you would) was just the best feeling ever, because that was the moment when I finally allowed myself to exhale after a week of emotionally holding my breath, of simultaneously smiling inside and kicking myself, of waiting and wondering and hoping and fearing and - that thing I'm best known for - over-thinking.   A week is a mighty long time inside my head sometimes. And that week, when I had no opportunity to see you or speak to you, when I couldn't possibly know how you were 'processing' all the things we had said to each other, felt more like a year to me. I'd been so scared - that I might have to wait much longer to see you and find out if we were still OK as friends or if I'd wrecked the friendship by initiating the conversation I did. That I'd see you and you'd be awkward, distant, formal, everything you never are with me - I think my heart would have broken a little if you'd been that way with me. That you might even have decided to walk away altogether for a while. The relief I felt when I walked by and saw your car - then you getting out of it - then the usual smile coming immediately to your face as you saw me - was like a dozen party poppers going off all at once in my heart, in spite of the fact that last week we closed the door on any thoughts of 'us', despite the fact that I knew that door was still closed. Because suddenly I knew that while the door may be closed, we were still friends in just the same old easy way we have always been. No awkwardness. No need for silly avoidance - I was reassured of that the moment you chose the seat next to mine, as you nearly always do, then grabbed my chair and pulled it right up against yours so you could rest your arm against mine because 'your arms were cold' - and I was further reassured by your eagerness to cast yourself in the role you did that night. (And how much am I looking forward to that? A lot. )   Don't get me wrong, I haven't stopped wanting you, I don't think that is even possible. Certainly not any time soon. But at least now I know the path is clear for me to come to terms with what we agreed in my own time, in my own way, as you are doubtless doing too, and without any of the awkwardness I had so feared. When we were chatting in the pub and you let your eyes find mine, head-on, directly, the way you always do, I knew that it was still there for you too. I knew it from the way our eyes were doing that thing they always do, of somehow managing to carry on a completely different conversation to the one our mouths were having. But that's OK. This isn't going to go away overnight, or at least not while we continue to see each other most weeks, to spend so much time talking one on one, but that's OK too because I know that all feelings aside, you don't want to let the friendship we have die away any more than I do. I am going to miss you so much when you go on holiday, but that won't be so bad now I know we are still friends the way we always have been, and to be honest I think it'll probably help both of us to put our heads in order.   And as much as it may be that you and I are doing ourselves no favours at all by allowing this friendship to continue on such close terms - and as much as we may be kidding ourselves that the 'danger', so to speak, has passed, when the attraction is still so clear and present between us - the pain I had been feeling at the thought that you may be lost to me as a friend tells me that you still have a really important role to play in my life. And I can't tell you how happy I am that you still want to play that role.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

Hey Everybody, Roll Up, Meet The Wicked Stepmother!

Ugh. Here we go again. I know I am useless at mentally sticking to my guns over all this business of never being consulted over the timing, frequency or duration of stepdaughter's visits, and it is a little bit pathetic at my age that I worry so much about disappointing others in this domestic set-up when they clearly don't care if they disappoint me. I just really struggle with some aspects of assertiveness as it seems to be so easy for others to manipulate me into feeling I'm being unreasonable. The situation: Wednesdays are supposed to be DH's and my night for 'couple time'. It's not 100% set in stone, but pretty much, and has been for a few years now. Occasionally, if one or other of us needs to be doing something on a Wednesday, we will switch it to another evening, but we make sure we have an evening just for us. Recently, with stepdaughter being unemployed and her studies over (she's 21, for those who don't know), she has been asking to come Wednesdays when she is here for her every-other-weekend visits because she either needs, or wants, to go home on the Saturday for some reason. (DH still goes to work on weekdays if she is here in the week, incidentally, meaning SD is hanging around here with nothing to do during the daytime while I work, so I don’t even see much value, to anyone, in her being here on weekdays.) I think I am being considered bitch of the century because I have started to say no to this, that Wednesdays are for DH and me and that is all there is to it. DH, to his credit, actually *checked* with me this time before saying yes to her, which is possibly an all-time first and which I really do appreciate, but I've stuck to my 'no.' The way I see it, SD has CHOSEN that she wants to be back home this Saturday to go to a comedy festival, that means it is not unreasonable for her, as a young adult now, to have to accept that that means she gets less time here this time around - them's the breaks, she wants to change things about, she needs to accept the downside of her choice. I think I am being reasonable - DH has accepted my decision, a little sulkily, but he's entitled to his feelings. He's now trying to throw into the mix that I'm 'happy enough to shift the dates around when it suits me' which is not entirely a fair accusation - granted, *both* of us sometimes do that (or some nights DH will watch football regardless of the fact that it's 'us night') but to me that's actually beside the point. The point, for me, is that now SD is 21 and STILL coming EOW, I am prepared to stand up and say I don't have to justify myself. It's not like I'm trying to stop the visits happening - I don't have the right to do that. But this is my life too, and DH, and myself, should GET to shift dates around in our own frickin' schedule from time to time if we need to, without having to justify ourselves to SD (and without my having to justify myself to DH) when *she's* the one wanting to change the plan at short notice for reasons that benefit only her. I shouldn't have to apologise, explain or be made to feel guilty for saying that Wednesdays are for me and DH, that as far as SD is concerned that's the end of the matter (barring anything crucial that might happen that would make it absolutely essential for her to be here on a Wednesday) and that no, it's not OK for her to come. So why am I sitting here feeling like I could out-ogre Shrek in the ogre stakes?? He also subtly made me sound like the villain of the piece when he called SD back to tell her no, but I can live with that as I realise he's disappointed. But, damn it, because he’ll be at work Thursday anyway he's only losing a few hours with her, and if I say yes this time - now SD has been TOLD Wednesdays are supposed for me and DH and has STILL asked to come - she's going to take that as 'fk says Wednesdays are for her and Dad, but I'm going to ask anyway, because she'll probably say yes anyway.' So I really felt the need to stand firm here. Surely this isn't so terrible of me, in light of SD's age and the fact that she's still here EOW anyway? I know DH feels he doesn't want to 'lose' any time with her now given that when she's working she'll have less time to visit - I just don't see why I should be penalised for other people's whims, and I feel I need to actually start having some control here and not to have to keep bowing to those whims. Just needed to get this off my chest. I just never envisaged my life still being like this, so far down the line, now SD is (supposedly) a grown-up. I fully accept/respect that he has a daughter and that she has to always be a strong priority. But I am sick, sick, sick of having to choose between being bottom of the list every time or being seen as the Wicked Witch of the West if I choose to assert my own priorities. Sigh.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

About A Boy

So, gc... I finally got to have that talk with you and now I don't know how to feel. To hear you confirm what I knew anyway - to have a conversation with you which basically consisted of both of us admitting to having feelings for each other - speaking totally openly about it at last - but for that to lead into both of us being so unequivocal about the fact that we can't act on those feelings... well, that was the emotional rollercoaster to end all rollercoasters. And my heart's still lurching about all over the place more than three hours later.   I guess the adult/realistic/sensible part of me decided to finally put in a belated appearance tonight. And that part of me knows that was the right way for the conversation to go. That I respected you more for hearing you voice the 'right' sentiments, that if anything it actually made me love you more, that you didn't let our words take us down a path that in the end we are probably both too nice, and too decent, to go down. But that's my head talking. My heart still craves you, though I didn't - won't - tell you that, and there's a hollowness deep inside me right now from the absence of you. From the fact that that absence has now been given words, just as our feelings have, and I can't kid myself any more.   Going by what has been said tonight I think we both know that on some level we belong together, even though we can't be. And although tonight brought with it a sort of resolution, an end at least to all the wondering, I just wish the sound of that door clanging shut - that door we closed tonight, between us, with the things we both said - wasn't ringing so loudly in my ears.   Provided you don't do that guy thing of getting all freaked out and unnerved because emotions have been aired I actually think you and I stand a good chance of always being really close and dear friends, and that's a wonderful thing. What I will never tell you is that the fact of that door being closed isn't enough to stop me loving you. I think I probably always will.   And I don't know how to even begin to come to terms with something like that.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

Creeping Ivy

‘I can see me with you.'   It’s funny how some words just stay in your head once they’ve been spoken. I haven’t been able to shake off these words since they were said to me just over two months ago.   His presence in my life, and what it means, has felt like ivy insinuating itself between the bricks of a house, looking innocuous enough - quite pretty, even - but day by day slowly crumbling the cement of the walls they are holding together. Emotionally I can feel the structure changing shape, re-casting itself in a different pattern whose shape I can’t determine yet, and I don't know what the hell I am supposed to do to stop it, or to drag things back into their old formation.   I know I’ve been quiet on here for a long time, and part of the reason for that quietness has been that I’ve felt that some of the things preoccupying me lately aren’t very ‘relevant’ on this forum. Yes, I’m still bi, that hasn’t changed. But in spite of knowing I am still bi I feel somewhat 'off-topic’ on here lately, so to speak, because of my preoccupation with a man. A man who isn’t my husband, who IS someone I now consider a very good friend, but someone who has rocked me to my very core and caused me to question literally everything. A man I have fallen in love with. (I’m hoping that if I start acknowledging that to myself it might somehow start to become less true, though I don’t hold out much hope.)   Yep, the ‘guy crush’ saga rumbles on, except that by now my feelings have crescendoed into far more than a crush. *wry smile* I want to ask that if anyone is to comment on this, they don’t judge me or tell me off, please, as I need a ‘safe' space to put this. There may be all sorts of wrong going on in my head, but I haven’t acted upon what I am feeling, and neither has he. We do love our partners, and respect each other’s partners, and when all’s said and done I don’t think running off into the sunset is even a possibility, it would be way too complicated, painful for everyone concerned, and downright risky. But it’s been impossible lately to ignore this feeling of rightness that I experience whenever I’m around him, something he seems to be experiencing too. It’s impossible to shake the feeling that maybe we have been each other’s missing puzzle pieces all along, and have met too late to do anything about it. And, yes, as bad as it sounds when we are both partnered to other people, that gets frustrating sometimes.   We've always got along incredibly well - we just 'get' each other, probably because we are both a little eccentric and silly but it’s been just over a year now since I thought I was beginning to sense a spark of something else between us. Since he seemed to start looking more intently at me, seeing me. Seeming to look right into my soul at times. Since his smile became just a little warmer. Since he started using just about any excuse he could come up with to be around me. A year that has been good for me in some ways and bad in others, a year of soul-searching, of trying to be the best me I could possibly be, of putting my best foot forward and my morals on the back burner.   My marriage has always been patchy, everyone who reads my posts on here must know that, and parts of it are downright dysfunctional. But this isn’t a perfect world. I do love my husband, I don’t want to see him hurt, and there are other practicalities in my life that mean I pretty much am committed to staying where I am. I have a hell of a lot to be thankful for in my life, a lot that is going right, a lot that brings me happiness. And I don’t want to be a spoilt brat demanding a Flake in my ice cream as well as raspberry sauce, which is how I must sound.   But …   … and my heart keeps snagging on that 'but'. I can be moving smoothly through life (or as smoothly as I ever seem to manage, anyway ) and then all of a sudden my mind will ‘catch' on something gc says or does, and my whole being will snap back to him whether I want it to or not. The connection is simply too strong to ignore, try as I might.   His actually putting it into words a few months back was a turning point for me, because up until then a part of me had wondered if maybe I had dreamt this all up in my head. (When you’ve been taught/told all your life that your own inner perceptions are not valid, this kind of thing can happen.) But hearing that he too felt that connection between us, that he too thought we were similar people, that he too had noticed how well we just seem to ‘get' each other even though he’s madly extrovert and I’m quieter and somewhat shy ... that too could have just spelled friendship ... if it hadn't been for the other things he said to me that night, the compliments he paid me, the way he looked at me, the way he held me when we hugged goodbye. I wanted him - emotionally and physically - so much in that moment that it kept me awake most of the night after he’d gone home, and although he’d gone home by his girlfriend's side I could tell he wanted me too. I knew 'it' was there for him just as it was for me.   It’d be healthier and more sensible if this could be given a chance to die down, I know. But since when did I ever take the healthy/sensible route? Week in, week out, of shared social activities that keep bringing us together. Feelings dipping and cresting like a ride on a rollercoaster. More little looks, more subtle flirts, more ‘moments’ passing between him and me. Emotions building up inside me - and, I sense, in him too - that can’t be shaken. And then another get-together, and DH is missing from my side, and I’m angry enough at DH to tell gc the whole truth about his absence. And gc floors me, not only with his ire at my missing spouse, but by telling me he doesn't know what DH is playing at, that if he (gc) was with me he'd be out with me all the time... and that he (gc) can picture himself and me together.   'I can see me with you.'   To which I just about manage to nod dumbly, and the conversation meanders off someplace else, and then he comes back to it. He speaks about his relationship in a way that hints that perhaps he feels he has 'settled' rather than found the love of his life. He pushes the thought of me and him further: ‘I can see us together, I really can.’ At which point I just about manage to nod again and admit, rightly or wrongly, that I can too. Since then I've not stopped wishing I'd said more, but what little common sense I have left seemed to kick in and stop me, and realistically it’s probably better all round that I didn’t say what was in my heart at that moment.   I can try to tell myself this is just a crush. I can try to tell myself it’s just a friendship with a spark, that I just fancy him, that it’s just because man-wise I’ve been in a sexual near-drought for ages now. I can’t kid myself, though, and I've given up even trying. When gc is around the rest of the world seems to dwindle down to nothing, leaving only him and me. When I’m not around him, the thought of him is never far from my mind.   When I see him look momentarily (and very uncharacteristically) shy around me, seeming as unsure as I am how to handle this energy that hums between us, I know I’m in love with him. When his life’s not going smoothly, when his jokey exterior deserts him and he looks tired and vulnerable and I just want to hold him, I know I’m in love with him. When our eyes meet in a way that makes me feel as though we're looking right into the depths of each other, I know I’m in love with him.   I think maybe he is doing better than I am at holding these feelings at bay, keeping the creep of the ivy in check, not letting the structure crumble - but I know he does have those feelings. He’s attracted to me. He finds me interesting. He likes my intelligence. He thinks we'd have made a good couple. He does love me as a friend. He’s told me these things enough times - so why do I still have this feeling that there is some great unknown lurking beneath all of this, and why do I have this compulsion to grab it and drag it to the surface, expose it to the light of day, even though I know it might not survive that?   I want us to be together and we can't be. It's as simple and as horribly complicated as that.   Because as much as I want us to be together, and aside from the fact that I don't think either of us could stand to cause our partners the kind of hurt this would cause... I don’t want to lose the life I have now, and I suspect it’s the same for him too. The stakes are simply too high.   I wish we could just clone ourselves, split off into some kind of parallel universe that would allow us to be in two places at once. But life isn’t a science-fiction novel. All there is is the here, the now, and the facts. Facts that keep leading me to the same unwelcome thought.   If you don’t kill ivy at the root, in time it comes creeping back. I feel that the only way we could shake this would be to do just that. Kill the friendship - or dilute it, at any rate - cut or at least loosen this connection before it leads us into something we can’t control, before it wrecks us. The trouble is that I can't bring myself to set the ball rolling that way. I don't want to. It's that simple and that selfish, and it doesn't make me feel good about myself.   I can’t seem to come up with a neat conclusion to this post, and I think that’s because I am so unable to predict what lies ahead. But I suspect that sooner or later this will turn out to be a dead end. That at some point I will either crash painfully into a wall, or simply find I lose the inclination to follow the trail any more. I still can’t shake this sense that there’s a pot of gold at the centre of the maze if only I could find it, but the maze is too tangled and hazardous to navigate. There are too few signposts, too many dragons along the way, and too little sustenance for the journey, and at the end of it all that pot of gold could turn out to be nothing but a mirage. All I can do is take step after cautious step forward and hope for the best.   The question is, will I be able to find my way out again?

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

Blah

Kind of down today. Overwork and lack of sleep aren't helping ... I'm physically and mentally exhausted. Missing someone. Not sure quite where I'm at in my marriage, and worn out from dealing with the guy crush emotions ... right this second I just wish all that would go away TBH. It's too hard wanting someone I'm not supposed to want, even harder suspecting they feel the same, but knowing nothing can happen. I just wish I could switch off my emotions for a while, it's so exhausting to keep feeling, every second of every damn day. Some days I really wish I wasn't like that. Should get back to work, flat out today, but just needed to put that somewhere.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

That Was The Week That Was ...

There's an incredible mixture of emotions jostling for position inside me at the moment ... but it's all good. :ok:   I knew he liked me and this week has proved it ... without anything 'over the line' having taken place, he's given me so many little signs of it that it's indisputable. At the same time, events have panned out in a way that has also given me a subtle reminder of the boundary lines, a much-needed reality check ... a reminder that both of us belong to someone else and that the lines can't be crossed. But like I say, I knew he liked me and this week has proved it. Call me shallow, but my ego is liking that a lot, boundaries or no boundaries.   And in a funny twist ... it's never been clearer to me that in spite of being a crush he's also a friend. Not just an acquaintance but a friend, someone who cares, who likes to be around me just because I am me. Not that I'm short of friends who do, but being able to count him as one is something I really value. It's a bloody strange combination of circumstances, and even writing this down I can 'hear' that I sound in denial about my feelings, but it's not like that. I'm facing up to them more than I ever have before. It's more that I've come to realise I value him as a friend enough to be able to make my peace with this never being more than a flirty friendship. I can actually see him being in my life as a friend for some time to come, and that thought makes me happy.   The weirdest thing of all, which I can't quite make sense of, is that in spite of totally meaning what I just wrote, I've finally faced up to the fact that I'm not just crushing on him, I've fallen for him. He still makes my head spin, quickens my heart, and has the ability to reach me with just a smile in a way that makes me feel I've been touched in the most intimate of ways. And if I was single and he was single I would go to him in a heartbeat. But for some reason that is so strange I can't comprehend it, I am fine now with the fact that things aren't that way, are never going to be that way. I no longer feel I am a slave to this crush, these feelings, whatever I may choose to call this force that draws me to him. I no longer feel it could wreck me if it got the chance.   It's as though, having fallen, I can now start to get to my feet, dust myself off and get real. And feel happy to have gained a friend - yes, one who has more than a friendly appreciation for me, and I for him, but a friend nonetheless.   It's contradictory, it's illogical and I'm not going to even claim to understand it or attempt to defend it. But ... there it is.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

Just Need To Vent

I feel bad that I'm here venting about DH's utter laziness around the house yet again, but it's grating on me more than ever lately. I don't think it's ever going to stop irking me the way that whenever he has some unexpected free time he immediately presumes I'm going to drop everything and sit gawping at the TV with him, like whatever things I might need to do just magically vanish. Admittedly he's almost always fine with a 'no', but that's not the point. I know I should want to spend time with him and I do, just not all the time. It's all very well and good for him to treat all non-work time as 'playtime', but he wouldn't care if this place turned into something out of How Clean Is Your House?, and however much he might think it's supportive of him to try and get me to adopt the same approach, he just will not accept that it's not what I want. That I at least have some standards ... that for our home to be clean and tidy is important to me at least, that I'm miserable when it's not. And that I am sick and tired of him making messes that leave me faced with a set of equally unpalatable option: to run around picking up after him, to not do so and live in a tip, or to broach this and have it turning into yet another blazing row in which I'd likely get called 'uptight' and 'a martyr' where the housework is concerned.   Weekday evenings I tend to be either out, spending time with him or vegetative from too little sleep thanks to my sleep disorder. Weekends I'm/we're often away. That means there's not all that much time left to fit in the chores, and when I get a suitable chunk of time I need to get my head down and DO THEM. I've actually no issue with doing most of the chores given that he's earning far more, and paying far more of the bills, than me, and also given that I know he is so hardworking when he's at work that he likes to just veg when he's home, and also because in many ways he is a very generous and kind man. It's the pressure on me to sod the housework and just do the same as him that is annoying, because of the guilt I have to feel, time and time again, when I have to say no, I'm busy, and see his face get all disappointed. It makes me feel like I'm not a good wife and I'm tired of him putting me in this position time and time again.   He'll be 47 this Thursday but I've given up hoping he'll ever get real where this issue is concerned. I keep reminding myself that given the choice of two evils this is better than the situation with my ex, who was obsessively, anally hospital-tidy, who nagged non-stop if the slightest thing was out of place and who, deep down, thought I should be the one doing all the work to maintain his obsessive standards because, hey, that's what women are for. Of course I would never want DH to be that way. I just wish he'd drop the Peter Pan act where the mundane realities of life are concerned, and accept that the opposite of work time is not always playtime.   Vent over. No, we haven't argued about this today. But only because I'm biting my lip really hard.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

Dh, You Are Driving Me Crazy Right Now!!

Apparently it's not enough that I've been lumbered with 90% of the work of looking after our cat while she recovers from her op. It was bad enough you informing me the other day that 'naturally' I was going to be the one getting stuck with most of the cat care seeing as I work from home. Uh, DH, the clue is in the 'work' part. You know perfectly well that I am approaching a deadline for the biggest and best-paid job in my entire freelance career. You know I am working 12-hour days. And yet who is it who's taken Nellie to every vet appointment bar one so far? Who is it who's been keeping the litter clean, juggling bowls of disgusting sloppy cat food up the stairs at all hours without so much as the door being held for me (oh, and you laughing heartily when I told you about my struggles with that was a real treat too ), worrying about the fact that she wouldn't drink at first, rushing her back to the vet when she got an upset stomach and seemed dehydrated? Who was it, for that matter, who had to clean up the carpet and change the duvet cover when she got said upset stomach? Yep, that's right ... not you.   I made it quite clear the other day that I needed support, and I made it equally clear that I needed that support to come in the form of you doing your share, but even when you grudgingly worked from home the other day at my request, you still barely lifted a finger to help me with Nellie. What was the point of that, then?   So is it really surprising that I didn't jump for joy when you suggested we disobey the vet's instructions and take the cone off early on the basis that 'if she breaks the stitches open we'll just take her back and get her stitched back up again'? Sorry to bring reality into the mix here, but ... umm, who would it be that'd be lumbered with actually taking her to the vet, bringing her home again, and a further ten days' aftercare? A further ten days of what I've been lumbered with already, and possibly even more to do if she were to get a nicely-healing wound infected? Oh yeah, that'd be me. Because, y'know, I work from home, so it's only natural I should be the one to see to ALL the aftercare for OUR cat.   Then again, when you do help out it ends up being more trouble than it's worth. You have contradicted everything that both myself and your daughter have said and done recently and being with you has been like pulling teeth. I told you on the one time you did Nellie's meds, that it was half a capsule of antibiotics, and what did you do? Give her a full capsule because halving it was 'too fiddly', then launch into some longwinded sciencey reason why a full capsule was not going to be a problem. I cannot ever just ask you to do something and rest assured that you will do it at all, never mind do it as it's meant to be done. But hey, why am I surprised? All of this is coming from a man who knows better than the doctors about his own diabetes, so it should stand to reason you think you know better than the vet too. Silly me.   I feel totally unsupported in all this. And all you can do is tell me I'm 'fussing' and 'overthinking it all' and make crackpot suggestions. You really do not have a clue how hard I am biting my tongue right now.   It's easy to be Mr Blue Sky when you know someone else will always see to it that there's an umbrella on hand, but if this continues I'm forecasting some storms ahead. Don't say I didn't warn you.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

Just Some Random Philosophising ...

Life is so fragile, and so precious. Can't stop thinking about the ten people who were hurt in the horrendous accident on the M6 today and the one person who tragically lost their life :( ... and how random life is ... I passed by on the opposite carriageway today as they were clearing up and it was a shock even to see the few affected vehicles that were still there. I'd say 'there but for the grace of God', but that sounds callous and in bad taste somehow.   I will never for the life of me understand rubbernecking ... what sort of sick person wants a closer look at such heartbreak? Enough to bring traffic to a crawl on my side of the road, that's for sure ... right up until the crash site and then after that road conditions 'miraculously' went back to normal ... what is the matter with people? :(   Passing so close to something like that just reminded me just how blessed we are if we can simply make it through the day safely. We should never take life for granted.   Sorry, bit deep and depressing I know but needed to get that out.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

As Bob Dylan Once Sang, I've Got A Head Full Of Ideas, And They're Driving Me Insane...

I'm not sure why, but sometimes it seems that sleep deprivation has the effect of kickstarting my brain. I'm the kind of person who needs plenty of sleep and normally even eight hours (all I can really have on week nights if I want my business to succeed at all) isn't enough to make me feel properly refreshed, but every so often I will end up significantly sleep deprived (three/four hours or less) and...   My brain runs riot.   Not always in a bad way… I do some of my best writing on those days. Perhaps because I give myself permission to take it easy because I'm tired… who knows? Yesterday was like that. Thanks to DH's snoring and of course my good ol' sleep disorder I only got about four hours' proper kip. Luckily that day I finished my work early and was able to indulge in spending an afternoon on my writing.   But why is it when I'm sleep-deprived I end up with a deluge of ideas, crowding into my head so fast that I can barely grab on to any of them? Couldn't the gods of writing see to it that I get an even spread of ideas, with time to actually write each one up and see if I can go anywhere with it? Apparently not. What I should be doing of course is working on my novel. And I am. (And I'm not just saying that so my girlfriend doesn't tell me off for losing focus :giggle:) But my brain keeps leading me off in other directions… interesting ones, which seem in their own way to be worth pursuing. Possibly marketable, and that's hard to overlook at a time when I'm really starting to feel that I would like to try and make just a little bit of money from my writing. It's like I'm walking through a maze in which the route to the centre is clearly picked out, and yet every time I look down a blind alley I see something dazzling glinting away at me that I just can't help but be drawn to.   I've read that sleep deprivation in small doses can be an effective means of controlling depression. No idea if it's true, but going by my own experiences it certainly seems to have mind-altering properties when it comes to creativity. Less damaging to the body than booze and hallucinogenic drugs, too...   Interesting, too (just to run off at a tangent) the way the brain puts thoughts together differently depending on whether they are being hand-written, typed, or in the case of this blog entry dictated. (Just something I'm experimenting with on my iPad.) You'd think the words would flow more easily when they're being spoken aloud, but I'm not actually finding that to be the case. I have a theory that people write differently depending on whether they're writing by hand or typing on the keyboard, because the brain tends to adjust its pace to cope with the speed at which the thoughts are being entered. With dictation, of course, the flow of words into the system is immediate, and there's no chance to see whether they look right written down. It makes me wonder how those who routinely dictate all their work actually get a visual sense of what it is they are crafting... something I find essential myself.   But I'm rambling now. Well, this whole entry's been a ramble really. :giggle: But hey, what are blogs for?

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

For Her

I hope you know that when I 'break' like that, that isn't really me. I wish I could convey how much I dislike that aspect of how I sometimes act these days ... that it just seems to be something I can't help at times and that it's not who I really am.   I know it's my hormones doing their dirty work because I never used to be so prone to tears. I wish to God I wasn't so prone to them now. I hate when that happens ... how it makes me seem weak, pathetic and needy, none of which things I actually am. You are always really good about it, but I don't want you to see me like that. I consider myself to be someone who is good fun and has a good sense of humour and that's the person I want you to see when you look at me.   I am happy in my life and you add to that, I just don't want there to be any doubt about that. I just get 'over-filled' with emotion at certain times and it doesn't mean I am depressed or unhappy, just emotional. I know it must be hard on the people I am close to. With any luck the miracle of modern medicine can correct this and let me get back to who I actually am.   Thanks for being there for me.   xxx

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

If I Could Say Anything ...

(about a couple of RL friends, not anyone on here ... just so that's clear :giggle:)   I know I have my faults, who doesn't? But it's becoming really clear to me that it is not OK by either of you for me to actually dare to mind about anything when we get together. Everything has to be 'fine by me' all at the time, and it's not. Who can ever say that everything is fine by them all the time? Only a doormat, and I am not one of those, despite how you seem to have misinterpreted the fact that I am fairly low-key and easy-going a lot of the time.   Here's what's not OK as far as I am concerned:   It is not OK to mess me about and let me down and think 'oh, good old flirtykitten won't mind,' then act stunned and try to make me feel like I am the bad person when I do mind. You do that EVERY SINGLE TIME I have a problem with something and you don't agree with my POV. Had you realised that?   It is not OK to openly exclude me from plans you are making together, regardless of what your reasons are and regardless of whether I actually want to join you (I don't, BTW), then continue making those plans in front of me.   It is not OK to hold lengthy conversations between the two of you about activities that don't interest me when we are supposed to be out together as a group of three. A little bit of give-and-take in that area is fine (and unavoidable between three people as fundamentally different as we all are in some ways), but if anyone is sitting there waiting for the conversation to move on, it is nearly always me and I am tired of that.   It is not OK that I know this friendship involves the third one sometimes being spoken badly of when two are alone together. That is playground behaviour, and I know I have indulged in it too, and I expect better of myself as well, so this needs to stop for all our sakes. Whether or not tongues are flapping the minute I get up to go to the ladies' room, I need to not be having to worry about whether they might be.   Whenever I say that I have a problem with something, you act mystified, like you can't fathom what on earth could be going on, simply because I am stepping out of a role you miscast me in in the first place. We are supposed to be friends, and that is supposed to mean relaxing and being totally ourselves around each other. There are any number of reasons why I don't feel that way, and I recognise that some of them are about my own personal hangups and I don't blame you for those. Butit's not all about me, and from where I am sitting you have not shown the willingness I have shown to be flexible and compromise in how I interact, so enough is enough now.   I can't be me around you. I don't feel you understand how I think or how I live my life. You always have unwanted so-called 'advice' for me. I feel judged by you for my bisexuality. I don't look forward to the times we spend together unless they involve alcohol, which is not healthy. (Yes, I know I get drunk every time I see my Blackpool friends too, but the difference is I enjoy their company and the drinking enhances that, rather than being the sugar that sweetens the pill.)   I am still sad to be having to reach this decision because I do care about you both, I know that underneath all this 'stuff' you care about me, I know this decision will hurt you, and I will miss the good times we do have. Plus I feel I am about to violate my personal code of conduct where friendships are concerned, i.e. that friendships should not be broken off unless someone has done something really terrible. But there's not really any point to a friendship where the good times only really seem to be happening properly when we all drink, is there?   The worst thing of all about all this is ... I know you are not going to understand, or see my side, no matter how many words I use. But I guess that's just how life works out sometimes.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

I Think I Figured Something Out About Myself ... Finally.

I just had something of a lightbulb moment ... I realised I'm a bit like Chandler in Friends. (Well, minus the awful sweater vests.) Remember the episode where Chandler assumes it's over between him and Monica because they had an argument? The conversation they have where she tries to get him to see that an argument doesn't automatically have to mean the end of something ... that you deal with it and you move on? Well, I knew that. I thought. Or at least, I consciously knew it. But now I come to think about it, I realise that I do exactly the same thing. On some level, subconsciously, whenever there is a difference of opinion with someone I care about (either romantically or as a friend), a part of me immediately starts to think that it's gonna put the tin lid on things. Not because a breakup is the outcome I want, but because it's the outcome I don't want, and I start to mentally put my defences up, just in case it comes about. (And maybe, sometimes, the better something is ... the more I value someone ... the more I care about hanging on to it, and to them. But then, I guess that's how we all are.) How stupid does it sound if I say that I honestly hadn't twigged this about myself until now? At the age of 43, a married woman with pretty varied experience of relationships? I don't know why I would still be like this at my age. I've had some rejections, but who hasn't? I guess the fact that I grew up being told exactly this (i.e. 'they won't like you if you're not agreeable/if you make waves/if you say what you are really thinking') might play a part too, but like I said, I'm 43. You'd think I'd have learned to shake off childhood conditioning by now. Whatever the cause (and these damn hormonal moods haven't helped lately), I know I need to snap out of it, if only because assuming someone's gonna break things off with me just because we have had words is making them out to be rather shallow, which is insulting to them. I guess I just need to trust more. I don't mean trust them - I already do that - I mean trust myself, that I can hang on to the people I care about, that they don't mind if I express myself strongly or disagree sometimes, that I'm not going to lose them just because we don't see eye to eye sometimes. Just some thoughts I had.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

:-) I Hope You Know ... :-)

... how much I appreciate you.   ... your care for my feelings, your willingness to respect them even when they differ from yours.   ... the fact of how amazingly unfazed you are by my emotional ups and downs.   ... your openness and the fact that you never play mind games. ... but most of all your acceptance of me, just as I am.   I have a great friend and a great girlfriend all in one person, and that makes me feel ... well, at the risk of repetition, .... great.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

To One Of My Longstanding R L Friends (Or So I Thought)

It was so nice to hear just now, via my dad because you just happened to bump into him (because, after all, heaven forbid you should trouble to lift the phone or put fingers to keyboard to contact me) that you're emigrating to Canada. But right now congratulations are sticking in my throat somewhat, because you know what? This has been the final straw for me as far as your total failure to make any effort with this friendship is concerned.   How many years have we known each other now? I make it 27. Yes, count 'em. That's most of our lives. Friends for the past 18 of those years, well whatever you define 'friendship' as. We became friends because you needed me, if you remember. And ever since I moved away I've put up with how one-sided the friendship has become because, when we actually do see each other (invariably because I have made the effort to set that up, mind you) this still feels like friendship, I still feel valued in your life, like I matter.   Clearly I have been wrong about that, though, if I don't even merit being told this news in person.   I've always been the one to make the effort. Right from when I moved away from there I've always been the one to ring, text or email when I'm coming up that way. The most you ever do, on very rare occasions, is bark out a text along the lines of 'when u nxt in B'pool?'. Every time I get a group together to go out up there you seem compelled to try to change the agenda. Look, I know you have medical issues. You know I'm always happy to help you accomodate them, within reason, when I see you, I have proved it time and time over.   But there's a fine line between asking for the accommodation you need, and making everyone dance to your tune simply because it pleases you to watch the dance. Do you want to know the real reason I avoided your baby shower earlier this year, for instance? It was because I couldn't believe the sheer nerve of you in throwing your own shower, essentially informing me that I was expected to spend six hours driving in total, over a weekend, in order to give you a gift just because you happened to be pregnant. (Remind me again which of the two of us is pulling in an executive-level salary? Oh yes, that's right – not me.) That did not feel remotely the way a shower should feel, like an opportunity for friends to celebrate some good news together – it felt like a blatant gift-grab, and that, friend, is why I skipped it.   Oh, and incidentally ... I also didn't appreciate the way you tried to guilt-trip me for not seeing you when we were last up. I told you when we'd be up, and you didn't bother to confirm you would be around. We were on a tight timescale and I was tired of your leaving it to me to make all the effort, to put it bluntly. So guess who did get to see us? J and K, who had actually bothered to take an interest in setting something up. Funny how things work out.   I am genuinely pleased to hear your plans have come to fruition, but in not bothering to tell me this yourself you just piled on the last straw. I might be in touch, and I might get around to congratulating you. If and when I can be bothered. And if you happen to notice it's been a while ... see how it feels for a change.   Signed,   Your no-longer-willing-to-be-treated-like-crap friend.   PS You're welcome re me sponsoring you on your charity run, by the way. Oh, but what am I saying? You haven't actually thanked me yet.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

What I Love About Being Bicurious

You know when a woman's mind fascinates you so much that you just want to get to know her sooooo well? When you just want to climb up into the attic of her soul and stay there all day, getting your knees dusty, peering into corners to see what treasures sparkle there, opening box after fascinating box in her mind (with her consent of course ), just ... discovering her? And when you ache to have her explore your attic in return? (OK, why did that sound dirty? )   Or, put less pretentiously: that process of getting to know her, find out what you have in common, as well as what intriguing differences exist between you ... starting to feel a bond, a closeness, an intrigue, growing and building between you, leaving you breathless to know more about her.   That's what I the most of all about being bicurious ... and why, even at a time like this, I can't quite countenance giving up this part of myself. The part of a woman that always fascinates me most ... and turns me on the most, for that matter ... is her mind. Possible TMI here, but I can actually become sexually aroused, somewhat, just by feeling that kinda mental and emotional bond starting to grow. Seriously.   Don't get me wrong. I am a very sexual being and sex with a woman is an exciting fantasy for me ... breathtakingly so ... and I have spent many a rather, um, damp evening (and I'm not referring to the weather here ) writing out my fantasies in loving and sometimes rather explicit detail. ;)   In spite of that, after all this time I think I finally understand where ex-gf was coming from, a little ... OMG, the irony ... and I wonder if maybe I am more like her than I had ever realised ... in terms of that closeness and that bond (which we definitely had) being pretty darned satisfying in itself. It's that which I really crave, more so than a full-on relationship.   Why didn't I realise this sooner? Mind you, ex-gf and I would probably still have broken up ... but maybejustmaybe not ... anyway, she's in the past now. But yeah ... to get back to the point ... it's a meeting of minds that I primarily hope to find again, not necessarily an actual relationship.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

Quick Vent

I Do Not Like Being Expected To Justify Where I Am And Why.   Even when it's only a tacit expectation.   You're suffocating me. You need to ease off.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

Remission?

I can't get my head around what is happening with my sleep patterns, recently, but I have to say I am liking it. For the uninitiated, I suffer from Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome, which I've had since birth, and which makes it very difficult for me to keep my sleeping/waking hours in line with those deemed 'socially acceptable'. (Yes, that was sarcasm – a lifetime of being tagged as 'lazy' when you spend the same amount of time awake as everyone else – just later than everyone else – will do that to a person. )   But what is this? Asleep at 10 p.m., awake again at 6 a.m., easily, with no effort or discomfort involved on my part? And I've been keeping similar hours for two or three weeks now, equally effortlessly ... this is unprecedented. What alien being has taken over my body all of a sudden?? I'm too cynical to think it will last, but am certainly enjoying it while it does. Just makes life so much simpler.   And it's not just my sleep disorder that I seem to be in remission from. The jumble of feelings I've been constantly sifting through recently, the syrup of confusion that's been surging through my veins, slowing my blood ... those seem to be absent too. I feel ... focused. And everything feels relatively simple all of a sudden.   Is it too much to hope for, to think that maybe this (the emotional side anyway; the sleep remains a mystery) is actually just as simple as it seems to be? That, in line with my circadian rhythms, for once my emotions too are behaving as they should? Certainly, something that happened yesterday which would normally have thrown me for a loop, hasn't really even caused me to miss a beat. Feels good. Sane. Normal.   OK, whoever this person is that's taken over my mind and body, causing me to feel so sorted and so un-confused ... could you stay, please? Because this absence of angst is something I could definitely get used to.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

I've Just Realised Something ...

You know those people who 'talk with their hands'? People say, tie their hands behind their back and they'd be mute? I've just realised Shy's has become like that for me. I keep having odd little random thoughts, and not 'logging' them somewhere on the forums here, like I usually do (however uninteresting they are ), feels weird.   God, that sounds sad. Clearly, though, it is why I am now in blogging overdrive.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

Broken Biscuits

Decided to keep blogging on here in my absence (that looks weird written down ) because there's stuff I need to get out at the moment. As ever, writing is like free personal therapy for me, and that's something I definitely need right now.   I feel distinctly weird today. 'Good weird', mostly. Although I'm aware of a simmering pain below the surface due to recent events, I feel very clear-headed. I hardly had any sleep, but (perhaps because of that, in some weird way?) my head just feels very lucid and switched-on, and I didn't have the usual problems kick-starting my day that arise from my sleep disorder (which seems to be in remission at the moment anyway ... Gawd only knows how long for, I'm just thankful for small mercies ...) I actually felt OK getting up, showering and driving to my doctor's appointment super-early, when normally I'd have felt like a zombie. Re-sult.   I just feel kind of OK in myself, which may sound unremarkable, but I think I've been a bit low lately, as hard as I have tried not to admit it to myself. I feel more together than I have in some time. I seem to be getting some closure on another issue, too, that's been niggling me for a while now. And that feels really, really healthy.   But I suspect that really I'm like a pack of broken biscuits today. (See, I just can't seem to quit with the metaphors no matter how hard I try.) Everything looks whole, 'together', on the outside ... but that's just because I've got it all so tightly pressed together. If you opened me up, I'd probably come spilling out all over the place.   I know I've hurt her, and that just doesn't hang right with me. Being a person who doesn't hurt others is so ingrained in me. But maybe that's half the problem ... I've spent too many years being the appeaser ... being what others want/need/expect and too often at my own expense. I just wish, now that mantle doesn't 'fit' me any more, that I could assume my new one ... that of the woman who hopes to please, but knows her world shouldn't constantly revolve around pleasing ... more elegantly.   Without making all these damn mistakes.   Oh well, I suppose that's all part of life's big learning curve ...

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

What If I Fell In Love With You?

'What If I Fell In Love With You?' by Stephen Duffy   Could we be happy just for a moment?   Everything we wanted’s thrown away, The things we took for granted yesterday, These are our obsessions though I know they’re all spoken for.   What if I fell in love with you, You know it’s the last thing you thought I would do. What if you fell in love with me, Could we be happy just for a moment?   We’re lonely, We’re needy I need you to feed me You’re so independent, Please finish my sentence.   I’ve lusted after you for far too long, (Could we be happy) Projected all my fantasies in song. (Just for a moment) You are my obsession though I know we’re both spoken for.   What if I fell in love with you, You know it’s the last thing you thought I would do. What if you fell in love with me, Could we be happy just for a moment?   If I loved you, dearly loved you If I loved you Could we be happy just for a moment? Would we be happy just for a moment?   What if I fell in love with you, You know it’s the last thing you thought I would do. What if you fell in love with me, Could we be happy just for a moment?   What if I fell in love with you, You know it’s the last thing you thought I would do. What if you fell in love with me, Could we be happy? Would we be happy? Should we be happy?

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

 

Balancing The Books

Recent events are forcing me to look back over the time since I re-discovered my bi side. And I'm being forced to a painful conclusions: the losses are currently outweighing the gains.   I don't mean the frankly brilliant friendships I have made along the way – those, I believe, will stay the course. I'd certainly like to think so. But this is taking up too much space in my life and my heart. I'm inadvertently causing hurt to people I care for, and feelings for people I can't have need to be 'managed' so they don't start to get painful. I'm neglecting people and things in my real-world existence. That's wrong and I need to correct it.   Shy's has become too much of a rollercoaster for me, and while the highs are amazing, I can't stomach the lows any more.   I simply can't do this any more, right at the moment. I'm wasting precious time stressing and angsting over stuff that probably shouldn't be in my life anyway. I need to focus on the rest of my life, and the very many blessings within it. It's my and DH's ten-year anniversary of being together today , and that has partially prompted a rethink of my life and my bi side, but there are other factors.   It's for the best. Sadly. But I hope I will be back, if I can get the perspective I need.

flirtykitten

flirtykitten

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