Apparently I am spineless with no will power or I am a master of the Buddhist art of forgiveness and letting go. I went over last night. I was mad. I said no, no, no. Then I realized, who am I really hurting here? Am I going to benefit myself here at all by being bratty and “punishing” him by staying home? No. We need to have a talk, yes. But things aren’t changing between now and then. Increasing intimacy by withholding sex because I feel ignored, well, it is only going to lead to him ignoring me more. It is NOT going to increase intimacy. At the end of the day, I do need to ask this… WHO did he ask over? Was it someone else? No, it was me. He has a shitty way of showing he cares, he is a moron with regards to common sense acceptable behaviors (ahem, photo on OkCupid) and his online trolling habit is ANNOYING, but, at the end of the day, when he has the time after a business trip, I am the one he wants in his bed. This has to account for something. It doesn’t resolve the issues, and it certainly doesn’t make our need for a conversation about all of this any less urgent, but, it does show that he is choosing me. sorta.
By the way, the sex last night ROCKED!!!
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Posted in Out with Friends, Reasons to be Thankful, Reflection and Insights, Uncategorized, tagged dates, finger puppets, frued, intervention, masturbation, monogamy, OkCupid, psychoanalyst, romance, sex, trips, type geek on 26/10/2010|
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Two of my colleagues turned a polite conversation into an intervention today. They asked loaded questions and then mirrored them back at me. I know what they are saying. I know it to be true. I am NOT being treated fairly. He is NOT meeting me even a 1/3 of the way. He is NOT considering me at all in anything. I do know this. When I laid awake last night after masturbating and found myself suddenly crying because I have someone 3 miles away whom I have a supposed romantic relationship with but I realized that I masturbate far more than I have sex with this person whom I care very much for, that was when I felt truly kicked in the gut. I deleted his contact from my phone. Yes, he can still text, and I can still respond, but it makes it harder. He has texted me twice today. I refuse to respond. He needs to make some decisions now. We had an email exchange last evening that ended with my explaining that it is, in part, his imperfection, his human flaws, that make me care as much as I do. That his scars, his grey hair, the chronic lateness, all of these things add to who he is, and that is ok. We are not perfect, we are human, and not only do I care regardless, but I care because of it all. I know he has read it. His texts came after, which means he wasn’t scared away by my message, but was he moved at all?
In thinking of all of this, I have decided on some requirements for myself. Things I need at this point, nearly 7 months from when we met. These are:
- The texting/phone call ration needs to change. I want to hear his voice, not read his thoughts, for at least 10 minutes each day. Even a check in, how are you doing, how was your day, type of call.
- He needs to commit to a weekend somewhere with me. We have planned several, only to have them fall apart. I have made plans, taken days off work, arranged dog care.
- Our hangouts need to be more date, less sex focused. I love the sex, but I want some romance. I want to be wooed.
- We need to have more sex. We are both tired. We both have responsibilities and lives that wear us out, but I want that intimacy. We both deserve and need it. Give me a 10 minute quickie topped off with sleep. I’m not asking for marathon encounters here. I’m just putting value on taking anytime to connect sexually with each other.
- Laying off the okcupid site. I can’t handle it. I need sexual exclusivity and to know that when he looks at me, he sees me and isn’t looking over our shoulders for what else might be out there. Until he can give me the attention and try to put himself out there, I’ll always be half a person to him. I deserve more.
So, those are my personal requirements, which may very well change as I consider what all of this is. I know that I am being played the fool. I can feel that. I am also very aware that this is a self-created issue because I didn’t have the conversation months earlier, before I realized I was in love with him. At what point does patience and belief/love in another become a pathetic nose dive into martyrdom?
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In the last few days several things have become clearer to me. Type Geek and I haven’t spoken in-depth. We haven’t spoken on the phone. Barely any text messages, elusive, side stepping, unforgiving. I think I am the warm body to shoo away his loneliness. I think I am the distraction from the cold, from the empty, from the thoughts that keep him awake. I think he is still chasing the lustful dangerous idea of feverish love, love so hot it burns you, but never reaches inside. I think he is afraid to be seen. While I am afraid of not seeing. As a photographer, I sit and stare. I soak in. I see everyone and everything. One of the greatest gifts I have to offer is my sight. If only he could see that and stand before me, let me see what I already know. Let him feel what I see. Let him know that he is loved.
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with your obsessions
the formations of words
gentle curves and slopes
form pools of clever illusion
like puzzles mixed up in the same box
nothing connects together
I appreciate the disconnect
I shower praise on the words formed anew
definitionless curves and slopes
creating words that don’t exist
without phonetics to speak
without speech to express
without expression to connect
I swim in the pools
with what I now understand
in my new dictionary
in my new speech
that the curves and slopes
these new letters I have formed
back to you
in response to your puzzle
mine form an expression
I am lost
in a pool as vast as the sea
in the dark
and a dictionary of words I want to learn
so I can speak them to you
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Tacky. This is what I told him. I couldn’t wait to say something. I texted him that it amazed me how he can be both brilliant and an utter moron, at the same exact time. He responded with a bold capital WTF?! Well, buddy, WTF this: it is TACKY to use a photo taken by a girl who likes you A LOT, whom you are currently sleeping with, as a tool for meeting other women. NOT cool. Again, TACKY.
He hasn’t responded. Suddenly the communication goes silent. He must realize, now, after I said this, that it was a TOTAL douche bag move, no?!
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It has to happen this weekend, the talk I mean. I can’t float in this indecision, this muckety muck of wondering what he is thinking and whether he is JUST an idiot or maybe a bit of an actual asshole. Ok, so the asshole part, where does that come from. Why am I suddenly a wee angry at the fellow? Well, we had to cancel another date, which I talked about in my last post. I felt like he was meh about the effect on me. Ok, I know that I have said repeatedly that I understand his work and how sometimes it is gonna come in the way of plans. That doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t love some acknowledgement that it sucks for me that I’m suddenly sitting here dateless when I was looking forward to seeing him. That I have to make arrangements now with my schedule in order to see him and that sometimes it is inconvenient, but I don’t complain, because seeing him, even if just for a snuggle, is a huge pay off. I am complaining at this moment though because ARRRGH … ok, let me breathe here a moment and then I’ll explain. Inhale Exhale Inhale…hold…EXXXXHAAAAALE. Sigh.
I met with a friend for coffee today who had recently been through a messy break up. After chatting for an hour, she decides that she really wants to try online dating after hearing all about my stories. (Shouldn’t I be a cautionary tale, not a success story?) Anyway, SO, I help her set up an OkCupid profile. I make it cute, but not too cute, fun and approachable. We find two pics on her Facebook we can use and voila, Fini. Except, she wants a tour of how the site works and stuff. So, because I [insert BIG NEWS fireworks here] disabled my own account a few days ago because I was trying to trust in forward momentum and letting nature be nature and my own truth, being that I really care about this idiot of a man, blah blah, well, because of that, I couldn’t show her how to navigate the site on mine. We logged back into hers and I made her anonymous and took her on a tour. I showed her how to search for and im, wink, etc. How to navigate through their profiles. Basically, how to successfully use the site. At the end, as I was about to sign out, she asked to see Type Geek’s profile. She had only seen two pics of him that I have on my phone, so she was curious. Understandable. Also, his pics are cute and make me smile, so why not. No harm, I have seen the stupid profile. We go to his page and I notice he updated his pic to one taken the other day. Ok, whatever. Then she, of course, wants to look over his entire profile. This is what hurt my feelings and made me angry… a new photo in his photo section. A photo I took on a day trip up the coast. Under it, the nickname I gave it. Damn it, that is MY memory. NOT something for you to use to get yourself pussy. I’m kinda pissed. Am I allowed to feel upset by this? I’m feeling a lot of grrrrrr and aaargh and ugh at the moment.
What do I say to him? DO I say anything to him?
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We had a hot date scheduled, tickets bought, dinner planned… then work reared its not so ugly head and the next thing I knew, I was home alone on the night I should have been swaying my hips while leaning against his back, as is my pose at all shows we attend together. Halfway across the country he ate at a farm to table themed restaurant in a 5 star hotel, then wandered around the city passing time on a “night off” until his meetings this morning. He sent me pictures of himself against artistic backgrounds, in close cuddles with red resin penguins and texts of his amazing meal. I sent him room service. A half dozen chocolate dipped organic strawberries and a note. Sigh. He is back tonight. I am considering a late night sneak into his sheets and cuddle post work. Maybe he’ll steal one of the red penquins for me and bring it back in his carry on. I hear that penguins like cold New England winters.
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