Archive for the ‘Marriage, Love, Dating, and, yes, Sex!’ Category

When pondering how to express exactly what is on my mind, and just what to name the blog post describing it, the laws of attraction came to mind. The thing is, there really are no laws when it comes to attraction are there? There are no rules that govern who or what attracts us or doesn’t. Attraction is one of the most primal of reactions and although we can control how we respond to said attraction, there is no way we can control the attraction itself. 

So what brings me to this topic today you ask? Only the strangest of attractions I have ever experienced in my life! 

I work as a personal care attendant in a private, home based setting, caring for a lovely elderly lady who is as much of a friend as she is a client. I have been there for several months during which time she has lived alone for the most part, until her son came to stay with her this past winter for a few months. Having him there has been an enormous help to myself and her other PCAs and he is a pleasure to be around. He’s funny and friendly and has a genuine love for his mother. He’s single, having been divorced for many years and has children who are older than I am. He’s 59 years old. I’ve been around this man for a couple days a week every week since just before Christmas. We’ve even spent time alone when I have given him a lift to run errands. We’ve chatted and laughed and joked with his Mom. He’s been great to have around and I’ve enjoyed work more since he’s been there than I ever did before. However, I was never, in any way, shape or form, attracted to him, not even in the least. 

Until today! 

Let me start by saying he isn’t your typical late 50s man. He is slim and toned, in great shape for even a 40 year old, has a full head of hair that is slightly salt and peppered which he keeps neatly trim and styled, is tanned, and dresses as if he were 40, which is exactly how he looks. Today he had been outside doing yard work and had come in and had a shower. I was doing dishes when he emerged wearing trendy jeans, a blue and white plaid shirt with the tails left untucked and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the light coloured fabric enhancing the tan skin on his arms. His short dark hair was slightly tossled, he wore a pair of sunglasses and he smelled oh so good. 

Something fluttered in my tummy and my heart rate sped up. What the hell? Where did that come from? In all the time that I have known him, saw him on a regular basis, even spent time alone with him I had never felt anything before, not even the tiniest twinge of attraction. Yet, there I was, standing at the kitchen sink as he stood beside me and talked, not hearing a word that was said, my cheeks flushing, and my stomach doing flip flops. He smelled good- a mixture or soap, some sort of cologne, and coffee. I tried to concentrate on the words that were coming out of his mouth and not the perfectly lined, white teeth that shone under his bright smile. 

Moments later he was gone, sitting with his coffee on the deck outside and I breathed a sigh of relief and tried to shake off the strange sensation that his presence had on me in that brief moment. Yeah, I couldn’t control the attraction that I felt, but I would also never, in this lifetime or the next, act on it. He isn’t even my type, not to mention the fact that he’s only a few years away from being a senior citizen! Where was my head? Well, that’s just the thing….initial attraction has nothing to do with what’s in our head, it’s just human nature. There are no laws of attraction, no rules in which we follow before deciding who we are attracted to. We don’t decide who or when we are attracted to someone. It just happens. It’s natural, even when it is rather strange and unsettling, and it reminds us that somewhere within us is a healthy, sexual, passionate person with needs and wants and desires. 

There are no laws of attraction and that my friends, is what makes attraction so much fun. 

I should have learned a lesson. I should know by now exactly what he is trying to do. I should be strong enough to say no, to turn him away, to turn away from him and walk away. I shouldn’t want this, want him, but sometimes the heart wants what the mind knows we just don’t need. 

Jay messaged me on Facebook while I was in the city for a few days, telling me to hurry and come home because he was getting lonely. I was heading home that day anyway, and just responded with “lol”. When we got home he called and then came up. The kids were outside and the house was empty. 

Like gravity, we were drawn to each other and to the bed. He had been clean shaven when I had left but his beard had grown back in a little while I was gone. I love his beard. I love how it feels as I touch his face while we kiss. I love how it feels on my skin as he trails kisses over me. We kissed, over and over. We touched. We rediscovered each other in ways we hadn’t in a very long time. We made magic together, the passion we had known long, long ago suddenly reborn if only for a short time. We were, for a couple of hours, Jay and M again. I was his, and he was mine. 

Afterwards we talked. The upcoming move came up and he commented that he would try to visit every second weekend. I asked why so often. 

“Don’t you want me to visit?” He asked. 

“Yes….but not that often.” I wanted him to visit the kids, yes, but the move was, and still is, a fresh start for me. Nothing had changed between us, I continued to explain. What we had just experienced was beautiful and incredible and felt so unbelievably good but it changed nothing. One incredible night together did not, could not, fix the years of turbulent marriage. It didn’t erase the addiction that consumed him. No amount of affection and intimacy could magically change the reality of our situation. 

I should have known what was coming, what he was expecting. He wanted his cake and to eat it too. He has hoped that this would change things between us without him having to make any changes himself. Once again, he was trying to suck me back into this twisted idea of a relationship that he has, where he can keep me at arms length, have me when he wants me, but still continue to live his life the way he wants without any real commitment or change on his part. Little does he realize, I’m not the woman I once was. I’ve changed and he’s played a part in changing me. 

I may not have been strong enough to turn him away but maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t about strength. I had, after all, gotten exactly what I wanted, and while there may have been a time when this would have shaken me to my core and turned my world upside down, it just doesn’t anymore. I was fine before spending the night with him, and I am fine after. Yes, sometimes the heart and the body wants what the mind knows you don’t need, but must we always only choose what we need? Can we sometimes just choose what we want, even in just that moment? I may not have needed that night. I know I don’t need him anymore. But, in that moment I wanted him and for once, I was taking what I wanted, whether it was good for me or not. 

It was one incredible, intimate, heart pounding, amazing night, but, it was just that- one night. It changed nothing and life, for me, will go on just as it did before. There’s no going back- just ahead. 

Jay called, as I was working on some painting projects Thursday afternoon. He was out of town, after just coming back from work, and didn’t have a ride home. He asked would I come to pick him up. Reluctantly, I agreed and made the 40 minute drive to get him. He had been drinking, as per usual. On the drive back home he attempted to flirt, touched my leg as I batted his hand away, and jealously asked about the new guy in my life, who I explained was just a friend. We mainly laughed and joked on the ride and when we got back in town he wanted to come to my house for dinner. My mama had cooked up something and he loves my moms cooking, and my mom, and the feeling is mutual between the two. 

It started with dinner. Then he lay down on our sons bed to watch a movie but Little K opted to go outside and hang on with his friends. Jay asked me to watch the movie with him, so I did. 

It started with dinner and a movie. At some point we were laying facing each other and he reached out and pulled me towards him, hard. I toppled towards him and our faces were inches apart. Those big brown eyes that reflected my own stared at me. My heart raced and my head spun. We kissed, our lips meshing together perfectly. We kiss the same. Exactly the same. Years and years of kissing each other would do that I guess. I was hesitant at first, but my thoughts were quickly lost in the feeling of his full, soft lips on mine, his beard tickling my face. 

It started with dinner and a movie, and a kiss. Then one kiss lead to several more and I found myself clinging to him, our mouths pressed firmly, urgently together. Breathlessly we stopped and I lay on his chest, both of us silent for a few moments. He spoke first. 

“I’m trying to decide if I should go down.” (To his house). 

I shook my head. Words just weren’t coming out. 

“You don’t want me to leave?” He asked. 

I shook my head again, my cheek against his chest. 

“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” 

I nodded and he kissed my forehead. 

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.” He whispered. I knew what he meant. He wishes I weren’t moving to the city. He squeezes me tighter and I close my eyes and just enjoy the moment. 

He stayed the night and we watched movies and cuddled and made out like teenagers. Many times I heard my own words creeping into my mind. What the hell are you doing? But I quickly shut her (me) up as I once again reached out for Jay and crushed my lips to his, stroking his beard with my fingers, as he tangled his fingers in my hair. It felt so good and so right. We kissed and touched and pushed each other to the edge but we didn’t make love. Instead we fell to sleep, spooning, and woke up the next morning in the exact same position. 

The thing with daylight is, after the darkness of night, it brings clarity. As we had a coffee and a cigarette together on the patio the next morning the magic of the night before wasn’t there. In it’s place was the normal neutral demeanour. Was I expecting more? No, not really. Did I want more? Again, no. But the night before had shaken me, and after our coffee, and after I had dropped him off at his place, I began to rehash it over and over in my mind, and analyze it as I do with everything that happens in my life, a curse as much as a blessing. 

It’s a dog with a bone complex. Jay knows the kids and I are movingto the   city, a 4 hour drive from the town where all of us- the kids, Jay and I- had lived our entire lives. He’s scared. He knows I am moving on and that worries him. 

Like a dog with a bone, he only wants it on his terms, then wants to bury it until he decides to dig it back up and play with it again. Jay is the dog and I am his bone. Except I’m not his bone anymore. There has been too much hurt and betrayal, too many let downs and tears, and I am not the same woman I was when he decided to bury me last. I’m not his bone anymore. I’m not his wife anymore. 

I could get down over the whole incident. I could beat myself up over it, tell myself how stupid I was and what a huge mistake I made. But I won’t, and I didn’t. I did what felt good in the moment even if I knew I would regret it the next day. I took that chance and even though it rattled my chains briefly the next morning, I didn’t let it consume me. I shook it off and moved past it. 

I am not his bone anymore. The realization was actually very empowering. He doesn’t have the same effect on me that he once had, that power to suck me back in, to dig me back up and play with me until he was sick of me and then bury me again. He doesn’t have that hold on me anymore. 

It started with dinner, movie, and a kiss and it ended with me realizing…..I’m not his bone anymore. 

I’ve been called a lot of things over the course of my life, some good, some bad, some justified while others are not, but an insult that was thrown at me just last night really hit a nerve- coward. More accurately, I was told I exhibited cowardness, which is basically the same as calling me a coward. 

My reaction? I saw red and replied with….

I am NOT a coward. I have more courage and guts than you will ever find in another god damn woman in your life and if you knew me at all you would know that! 

Maybe I took for granted that this person didn’t know all there is to know about me. They probably don’t realize the things I have endured and survived, but they are aware of a great deal of it and when those words popped up on my computer screen, I didn’t care what they did or didn’t know, the anger coursed through me. 

A coward? Bitch please!  This chick is a survivor. 

I’ve survived childhood sexual abuse, and years and years of verbal abuse at the hands of people who I thought loved me. 

I made the decision, as a teenager, to take the long road and keep my baby who would shortly thereafter become the centre of my entire world, and after we were both rejected harshly by his father, together we survived! 

I’ve lived through more than 3 decades of an undiagnosed mental disorder that threatened my sanity time and time again, nearly took my life, and completely fucked with my head, my heart, and my self esteem and I survived! 

I survived a relationship filled with fear and control; being held hostage in my own home, spending days in a bed while pondering how in the hell I was going to escape, looking at the tiny windows in the basement apartment and wondering if I could squeeze through the small space to freedom and safety. I escaped, I survived, I learned to not live in fear anymore and put it behind me. 

I survived more than a decade of loving an addict who repeatedly hurt and betrayed me, destroyed our family and our life together, left me broke and alone over and over, not knowing how the bills would be paid or how I was putting food on the table! Yet, I made it through because that’s what survivors do! 

I’ve been knocked down, physically and emotionally, but got back up!  

I started over, alone and scared, damaged and confused, broken and bruised, and I recreated a life that had been shattered. 

I’ve raised two kids on my own, as I struggled with mental illness, after being raised in a broken home where insults were thrown like punches, yet I’ve raised them right. I’ve raised them to be strong and be their own person and every time I look at them I know I did a great job! 

A coward? I’ve never been, nor will I ever be. I’m strong and proud and brave. I’m a fighter! You can knock me down but you can’t keep me there. I always get back up, stronger and better than I was before, because I, my friend, am a fucking survivor and that is what we do! 

  
 

  

It creeped up on me.  I hardly saw it coming, until it was just there, hanging over my head like a thunder cloud threatening to burst open and rain down hard on me. I got that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know the feeling right? When you know everything is about to change and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it except wait for it to happen! 

And then….it did. The cloud opened up and the cold rain fell down on me. I was sad. I was angry. I was hurting and feeling so very alone. 

Trigger? I ended things with Clarke. I just can’t do a long distance relationship. For the past couple weeks I’ve felt as if I had an imaginary boyfriend. Sure, I could talk about him, about how great he is and how beautiful he makes me feel and how his goofy pictures that he sends when I am feeling down always make me laugh and feel better. But as I talked about this stranger that none of my friends or family have ever met I always felt as if the person on the other end of the conversation was thinking “Mmhm. Sureee” as if this guy only existed in my imagination. It was more than just that though.  I felt lonelier in the relationship then I felt before it. Before, there wasn’t anyone that I wanted to be with, then, being in this peculiar relationship with him, there was someone I wanted to be with but couldn’t because he lives 2 hours away and our lives, living situations, and jobs didn’t allow us to be together, and that my friends, was lonelier than not having anybody. 

So, I told him, from the heart, how I felt and ended things between us. When this relationship became romantic we both agreed that, no matter how things turned out, we would always be in each other’s lives. Now, he’s not so sure, and this fear that I have completely lost him is nearly unbearable. Yes, he’s just a man, a man who in all reality I barely know, a man who has only been in my life for a couple of months. But this man has done something for me in the short time I’ve known him that I never thought any other living soul would be able to do, ever…….

He’s awakened me. He brought me out of this shell that I had been hiding under and made he feel things. Things I hadn’t felt in a very long time. He reminded me that there was still beauty within me, that my heart and soul was not yet dead, that I was worthy of love and affection. He made me feel beautiful again. He made me feel loved and appreciated. He made me want things- love, intimacy, companionship. He made me feel alive again. 

But as much as it hurts, and as much as I hate myself for hurting him, I know that this relationship isn’t going to go anywhere for a very long time and I just can’t live that way, knowing he is so close, yet so damn far, that as much as I want to be close to him, he’s out of reach to me. If things were different maybe it could have been wonderful, maybe it could have been everything I wanted and needed. But things aren’t different and if I’ve learned nothing else from my failed marriage and pulling myself back up out of the gutter since, it’s that you cannot live on what ifs. 

So, as I said goodbye to Clarke for what might be the last time, via a message on a tiny screen which was the foundation of our relationship, I felt that storm cloud hanging over me and I knew without a doubt what was coming. 

The darkness. Cold and bitter and angry. Sad and lonely and broken. Tears. An endless supply of tears. An aching in my heart that nothing could take away. The need to be alone, completely alone, to hide in a dark room, under the covers. To block out the world and everyone in it. So that’s exactly what I did. I took my meds and waited, waited for the numbness and the sleep to swallow me whole. 

I am BLAH! I’m not happy. I’m not sad. I’m not, well, anything! Just….BLAH! I’ve had a BLAH week and as the weekend approaches it doesn’t seem to be getting any less, well, BLAH! 

I have no motivation for anything! I have a million things I want to do, a million more that I need to do, but I have no drive to do any of it. 

I miss the mania on days like today. I miss that energy. I miss that feeling of total and utter confidence, when it feels like I can take on the world. 

Does the weather affect anyone else’s moods? It always affects mine. Outside it’s been cold, foggy and raining for days. I hate weather like this. It just sucks the energy from me and that has never been more true than this week.

Surgery recovery has been long and tedious. The incision itself is healing well (with a ugly scar to prove it!) but I am still experiencing discomfort and bruising and I have not yet been able to get back to my normal activities. This too is affecting my mood!  

I’ve been job hunting and submitted a couple of applications for administrative positions- good paying jobs in or around the city which would mean……yup, we would be moving into the city, or at the very least, the outskirts of it. I have a plan set in place for if I should get one of these jobs, and I am regularly checking the job website for newly added posts. Hmmm. Apparently I am not completely lacking any motivation. I did manage to do that! 

My family doesn’t understand my desperate desire to move to the city, 4 hours away from our little hometown. How do I explain to them that I was never meant to live here, I never quite belonged here? I’ve felt it in the very core of my being for many, many years since, when as a teenager I had walked the historic streets of the city, in awe of the colourful buildings, the eclectic shops, the street performers, and the buzz of energy all around me. This was where I belonged. I knew it then and there, but as I became a mother shortly out of high school my plans to make my escape from this suffocating small town got put on hold. 

Another child and 17 years later, I’m at a place where I know it’s time. Time to go where my heart wanted me to many years ago, to put the life I have lived here in this small town behind me and start over. And I’m excited!! My kids are excited!! Now, it’s just a matter of time. 

I’m very much missing having my own place! This house, with the 5 of us living in it, dealing with the same shit that I already lived through once, is slowly killing me! I came home from work earlier this week to find my mom in tears, after having been on the receiving end of my father’s verbal attacks all day. She looked so broken, standing in front of the stove, making supper with tears streaming down her face. I wanted to throw a rage filled fit, completely freak out at him, give it back to him harder and far more cruel than he had given it to her, and I am very capable of if, have done it before, but when she quietly asked me through her tears not to say anything I had to comply, and instead hugged her close as she cried on my shoulder. 

I hate him. Hate is a strong word but I mean it. I’ve never felt such strong hatred and rage for another human being as I do towards him. I’m not proud of how I feel but I am justified. As if it weren’t enough that he tarnished our childhood, leaving scars on us that would we would carry with us forever, but even after were long since grown he continues to use his words to tear her down, our mom, the only parent we ever really had, and for this, and for everything he has done over the years, I hate him. 

But enough about that. If I allow myself to dwell too long in that place it will consume me and I’m not letting him take up any more space in my head! 

My love life…..it’s weird! Clarke and I are currently in a long distance relationship and have agreed to not see other people until we have figured out what there is between us. Is it crazy to say that we love each other? Love is such a broad term…there are so many ways that someone can love another person….maybe it’s puppy love….maybe it’s simply a connection that’s so strong it resembles love. Can 2 people actually fall in love through just talking? I mean, we met once, for about 3 minutes! Since then our plans of being together have been ruined by first, my emergency operation, then work and family obligations, and we have no plans for the near future. Honestly? I have no idea what it is and lately (these past few days) I have been having some reservations. The conversations between us have been via text. He’s called twice in the past couple of weeks because, according to him, he doesn’t like talking on the phone. So, we resort to communicating through words on a tiny handheld screen, and honestly, it bugs me. The idea of being exclusive when we live 2 hours apart and only one of us drives (me) is bothering me as well. I mean, I’m just out of a marriage. Do I really want to be in an exclusive long distance relationship? My thoughts and feelings surrounding him and our situation are really all over the place! I really care about this guy, and he’s been such a huge part of my life over the past couple of months without even physically being part of my life. I do not want to hurt him or dissapoint him.  I’m just not sure if this relationship is what I want right now, but I’m terrified of letting it go! *sigh* The tangled webs we weave. 

Today I am trying to stay occupied. I’ve been cleaning and decluttering and job hunting, just to try to keep myself sane. I know how quickly BLAH can turn to darkness, and I refuse to let it! 

Thanks for stopping by, and for reading as I simply ramble.