Sunday, April 26, 2015

When You Fuck Shit Up.......

.....own that shit. Admit it. Apologize for it. Move on.


And don't ..... and I mean DO NOT..... do it again.

I have said before that I don't do married. I've been down that road in the past and there's just no good that EVER comes of it. Even if the relationship disintegrates and the person you're cheating with ends up free, you'll never end up together. And why? Number one, because if he/she will do it with you, they will do it to you.


And second, part of the attraction, part of the desire, is the danger of getting caught....and when there's no more danger, it's just not quite as exciting.

I've been in all three variables of that particular equation. I've been the one who cheated. I've been the other woman. And I've been the one cheated on.

And that's a pain like nothing else....one that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. And I promised myself it would never happen again.

And yet, here I am, guilty of inflicting that pain once again. And I don't know exactly how it happened. He wore me down, I guess. And after a while, just talking and texting and teasing each other incessantly about it wasn't enough and lines were crossed......and then blurred.....and then I talked myself into the rationale that I was actually doing her a favor. Because if I allowed him to take his frustrations out on me, he wasn't taking them out on her. Or several unsuspecting and perfectly innocent doors and walls. He could come over and vent and smoke and calm the fuck down and I would send him back to her, having pointed out just how much of a tool he was being, and they would talk and make up and go happily along their way for a while. Public Service Infidelity.

But that's complete and total Grade A Number 1 bullshit.


I was wrong. And you're absolutely right. You DO NOT FUCK another woman's husband. You just don't. No matter what kind of bullshit story he feeds you. It takes two to cheat. We both hurt you. We both lied to you. And for my part in that, I sincerely and from the bottom of my heart, apologize to you. I'm sorry. I promise I will not initiate any further contact. You asked me to delete his number from my phone and I won't do that. And that's only because if he decides to contact me, I want to know it's him.

I hope the two of you can work things out. I wish nothing but the best for you both.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

"When You Can't Figure It Out......

......then write it out."

Some of the best advice I've ever been given. I think I was maybe 22 or 23 at the time. Still pretty much a kid trying to figure everything out.....how to live....how to love....how to let myself be loved....how to recover from not being loved anymore....

The man who gave me this advice passed away last summer. I wrote about it at the time. But I don't think my grief over the loss really hit me full on until now. Other people in my life have intersected with what was left of his and all of a sudden-like the reality that he's gone hit me head on and took my breath away and brought me to my knees, so to speak.

That's one.

That "other people" in my life keeps me constantly questioning where my place in his life is. I thought I knew and I thought I was okay with it. But I just so really am not.....I only have space in his life because I make it easy for him to have me there. If I didn't come running when he called, I wouldn't ever see him I don't think. And I suspect there would be someone else there to take my place right quick if I stopped. I love him. He says he loves me. But he "loves lots of different women for lots of different reasons."

Part of me knows that I should just let him go. If he wants to be in my life, he will put himself there. If he doesn't, he won't, But the thought of that hurts so very much I can't breathe.

That's two.

I look around my house at the state of chaos it has become and I get so overwhelmed that I don't even know where to start. So many projects started and yet to complete.....messes to be cleaned up....dishes...trash to be taken out....laundry to be done...clean laundry to be folded....Ma's stuff still sitting in boxes waiting for a home.....I look around and I have to just fucking laugh.....

Even if the person above wanted a life with me, wanted to move in, I'd have nowhere to put him!

That's three.

And three strikes and you're out, right?

Nope, wait. There's more.

I'm overwhelmed.....in the middle of a particularly nasty fibro flare......everything hurts all the time and nothing....not a damn thing....not even the best of modern pharmaceuticals (or alternative ones, for that matter) are working for me. I can't seem to get enough sleep even though it seems that I sleep around the clock.

I feel like I'm digging myself into a hole....a deep one....that keeps getting deeper and I can't seem to find the strength to climb out and I can't find a hand to pull me out.

I'm resentful because it seems like I'm the one everyone turns to in the middle of the night when they're alone and lonely and sad. But when I'm alone and lonely and sad in the middle of the night I haven't the slightest idea who I could call.

I'm whining, And I know that. Feeling sorry for myself is something I've become disgustingly talented at. And still I know that my problems are NOTHING compared to some. All the people I love are still walking around breathing. I get to touch them and talk to them and hold them and make love to them occasionally. So in my head, I know that I am so blessed.

Little comfort.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

I Try Really Hard......

......to not cry in front of him. Because I'm the down ass chick. And down ass chicks don't cry.

Except that a couple weeks ago - and now again tonight - that's exactly what happened. Because down ass chick or not, I still have a heart. And currently it belongs to him. And right now it's breaking.

And why? Because when his Facebook page says he's "in a relationship" I want it to mean in a relationship with me. I want to be the girl in the pictures on his page. I want to be the one on the cover of his phone. I want to be the one he comes home to every night.....the one he calls every night......I want to go with him when he goes home next month.....when the permanent resident of his current house comes home, I want him to make my house his home......I want to be the one that "has him thinking."......I want to be the one. Period.

The last few weeks, I've spent more nights with him than she has. And I love it. But I don't understand it. And a part of me knows I shouldn't "settle" for being......well I don't know what I am. I believe I'm something more than just his "nothing better to do." He's proven that by choosing to stay with me almost every night.....

How much more seems to be the question.....

Sunday, February 15, 2015

So As I'm Walking Out Of The Theater....

..... And noticing the many couples who were also walking out of the movie theater, I couldn't help but think there's a lot of ladies who will go home tonight, get tied up with one of the hubby's ties, and have her ass spanked until it's the loveliest shade of pink!

And the second thought that passed through my hot-flash clouded head was Oh! How I wish I was one of them.

Yeah. I'm a freak. I admit it. And I say to you all A) don't knock it until you've tried it and 2) let your freak flag fly boys and girls. Life is far too short to live with the shoulda coulda wouldas.

Explore. Experiment. Enlighten yourself. Find someone you trust and let yourself go. Drink some wine. Watch some porn. Talk dirty to each other. Enjoy and indulge in each other. Love each other.

And..... You know.... fuck each other stupid on a regular basis.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

So As I Crawled Into Bed Last Night......

......it felt like it had been a week since I had slept in my own bed.

And then I realized it HAD been a week since I had gone to bed - at bedtime - in my own bed. And even though I will gladly give up a good night's sleep to spend time with him, I slept amazingly well. My head hit the pillow at 10:30ish and I didn't wake up again until about 7. Not even to pee, which is a minor miracle.

It's been a good week. It started last Saturday and finished up on Friday. In quite spectacular fashion, I might add. And it's been a long, LONG time since I got to spend a Friday night that way. And I loved (almost) every minute of it. We had a little hiccup Saturday morning....and I'm not sure why, but there were some tears. They maybe could have been avoided. (Because I told you, Sunshine - honest and open and inclusive saves the day. And it wasn't the lack of inclusion on your little outing, but the not knowing that upset me. Remember that. And yes, I did enjoy hearing about it later.)

He keeps a key hidden. And he trusted me to use it to be in his house unsupervised. And it was really, REALLY cool to be there waiting for him. My fire building skills may leave a bit to be desired because it wasn't nearly as toasty as he always has it, but I pay attention and now I know the secret, so next time......

It's interesting to me how......normal......the week was. When I don't have to try to extract enough pleasure from a single visit to last me until who knows when I'll get to see him again, I can relax. If we fuck like bunnies, great. But even if we just snuggle and talk, or scroll through our Facebooks, or watch bad movies.......it's the being there - together -  that feels SO good. It keeps me sane.....the chaos that is my life fades into the background and he loves me to a place where I feel like I can deal with anything.

I don't often allow myself the luxury of envisioning a future together.....there are too many things and too many people making too many complications in both our lives to dare think it will ever really happen.......but even so, I let my imagination run away with my heart every now and then. And I told him that. And I told him about it. And......whatever happens, happens.

I'm off to start cooking....Go 'Hawks!

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

I Want To Write About Something.....

......but I'm not sure what I want to am able to say.

I have a lot that I want to say....

I love you.

I miss you.

I need you.

Much more often than I am allowed to see you.....and I'm trying to have patience. But it's not my strongest asset and I'm not entirely sure what I'm waiting for.....




He has his own ring tone on my phone and when I get a text message from him, my heart skips a beat. He is the first thing I think about when I open my eyes in the morning and the last thing I think about when I lay down at night. And oh........how I wish I could lay my head next to his every single night.

I love his hands.....they're strong and a little rough from hard work and the feel of them running across my bare skin sets me ablaze. He lit a fire in me that started the very first time we were together and has never completely gone out. His arms wrapped around me make me feel so safe and secure and loved and when I'm with him all feels right with the world.

I can call him when my world feels like it's going to fly apart at the seams - "now what? " - and he talks me back down off the ledge....."just breathe. one thing at a time my girl."

My girl. Yes, I suspect I am, his girl. To the apparent exclusion of everyone else. Even though I know I'm not the only one. The time he gives me has become just about equal. Just about. And I'm okay with that. For now. Whatever happens, happens. 


Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Just A Little Blurb......

.......to explain a couple things that people have asked me about.

The name of my blog for example. This is not my first attempt at blogging. My first blog was called "Sober, Chronic, FABULOUS" and I was, in fact, sober. Had been for about a year and was diligently working through the 12 Steps and attending AA and Al-Anon on a regular basis. There's a much more involved story that goes with this as to how and why I came to be a member of AA but I'll save that for another day. Since I am no longer sober, I felt like I had to change the name, so, "Not Always Sober, Chronic, FABULOUS" was born.

I had also recently been officially diagnosed with Fibromyalgia - a chronic condition where the brain incorrectly processes pain signals from the rest of the body. To put it a little more simply, a normal person might wake up in the morning, feel a little stiff or sore and say, hmmmm, that hurts a little. Maybe take an aspirin and be on their way. A person with Fibro wakes up and their brain screams at them OMFG!!! IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HURTS! And usually no amount of over the counter pain relievers will even begin to stop the screaming. That's where the "Chronic" part comes in.

Finally, FABULOUS. Because I am. And no amount of pain, or crap days, or shitty people, or failed relationships will change that. In spite of all the many challenges that I face on a daily basis, I refuse to let those challenges limit me. I have a life to live - a life that I am living and for the most part, really fucking enjoying. I'm not living it perfectly....but so what? I'm having fun. My eyes are wide open. I'm doing the best I can under the circumstances and THAT is what makes it fabulous.

And, you know. Hearing from you people that you enjoy reading about the crazy, effed up shit that happens to me and the crazy effed up ways I deal with it. That y'all can relate to some of the crazy effed up shit means the world to me.