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Being Limey



Today I am thankful for emotional cleansing. 

I've spent most of the past eight years crying alone at night.  I hate it. 

I still cry when I am alone at night.  To this very day, I realize that the thing I want is someone I love to share my nights with. 

He has to be someone who won't be trying to test me all the damn time.  Those tests cut into the rapport that I need to get into fuck mode. 

I don't want to be a Facebook friend.  I don't want to answer long accusatory emails.  I want flirtatious evenings capped off by passionate kisses and hot fucking that leaves me tired enough to sleep. 

I got tired of spending every waking moment trying to figure out how to answer crazy emails.  I realize now that the man I fell in love with wasn't ready to love me. 

He hid behind intellectualism.
He hid behind politics.
He hid behind emotional attacks. 
When we finally became close, he hid his eyes so I couldn't see into his soul.

Then, he over thought everything and I felt that I spent most of the relationship attacked.  Then he attacked my feeling attacked.

I don't mind that so much.

The problem was that I didn't know what I could share of myself without provoking an argument.

Then, I realized that this is why I'm afraid to wear dresses, thigh highs, and a pendant dedicated to Aphrodite while visiting his house.  I always thought it would be fun to drop the pendant and bend down in front of him without underthings on.

I had a friend tell me that he wanted a woman to sit in his lap facing him.  He saw it in a movie and thought it was hot.  Just the way he talked about it made me want to do it....with someone else.

I have a book on how to give b-jays to guys.  There is one thing that I have always wanted to try because it sounds like it would make a guy squirm.....and this one....well....he isn't into that. 

I have all these little fantasies.  I have thought about enacting them.  Then....one wonders....would I be critiqued on style?  In an email?  While running late for a job interview?

So....the fun....well...it flew out the window. 

For this reason, I realize that we cannot hookup.  I've spent the past six weeks sobbing irreconcilably.

When I thought that my friend and I were over, I invited Mike to stay in this house as long as he wanted.  I actually talked to him about changing up the divorce agreement so that he can live here while I move out.   He's still undecided.  At least he's considering it.  That is forward momentum in my book. 

One day, as I sat crying, my ex rented the movie Thor for me.  I'm not really into Norse Paganism but I thought I should watch it.  I spent most of the time sobbing.  I was numb.  He sat next to me  and put his hand on my leg.  That was weird.  I wound up putting a hot bowl of buttered popcorn on my leg to cover my crotch and irritatingly taping his hand so it would move. 

I felt a little ill when my ex-husband tried to make a move on me. 

This is why he won't move out. 

That only doubled my pain.

 
*****

Yesterday, I spent the day feeding the bread I gave to Isis and Osiris to the birds as I was instructed to do in my visions. Then I went out and bought seven limes and fresh rosemary. 

I was to cut the limes in half, squeeze the juice into my bathwater along with the rosemary.  I was to do this while visualizing all the negativity and pain floating away. 

You know....I feel better.  I have to end the spell by disposing of the lime peels in some kind of compost bin away from my home.  I'll do that tomorrow. 

I realize that I was not carrying my own pain.  I was feeling Steve's pain.  I was feeling Michael's pain.  I think I was even feeling a bit of Thomas's pain.  I feel like I was taking in the pain of the men I have loved in my past.

Mike and Steve have controlling mothers.  I feel like I have spent the bulk of my adult life paying for the sins of the women who raised my lovers.  They treat them with contempt, so these men treat me with suspicion.  It's painful.  I am not that way.  I try to be in tune with the man's tastes.  It just takes awhile to get to know what they like. 

Thomas was my best friend in high school.  His mother was a saint.  I decided as a teenager, I would be like her!  I try. I think I set my heights a little too high. 

My issue with Thomas is different.  When we have met in the past he would regale me with stories of the women that followed me.  He seems to carry a lot of pain from those relationships; they were cheaters and violent man beaters.  When I talk to him I find myself crying because I let him go thinking it would free him to find his true love. I wanted him to find someone who made him happy.  My dad and grandmother died within a six week span during our relationship so I was very depressed. Thomas, try as he might, wanted to make me happy.  I couldn't be happy.  This hurt him deeply. 

I wanted him to find the woman that would make him happy. 

This is my wish for Michael. 

This is my wish for Steve.

Thomas taught me that wishing alone will not make it so. 

What am I supposed to do?

Pick one guy and make him happy?

Is that all one has to do to show love?  Is a woman supposed to pick one guy she cares about and do what she can to make his world brighter?

I can't make a man happy if he is nitpicking me all the damn time. 

*****
 

Now, I am trying to think of what I can say to Steve to make it better.  It's closure.  I think he wants a Facebook relationship.  I can't stand his Facebook alter-ego.  It's not him.  It attacks me.  It wants to talk about sensitive subjects in front of my stalker.  I can't do that!

I bought him a journal as promised.  I found a skeleton key.  It's rusty.  In the Pagan tradition those are good luck.  I'll give that to him, too.  He can make a wish on it. 

I lit some incense at my altar to Isis and Osiris and let the smoke permeate his book.  I asked them to bring to Steve his heart's desire.  I will drop the book off at his home tomorrow morning when he is at work.  That way he won't have to have his heart yanked out upon seeing my face.

*****


Hmmmmmm.......

I've been trying to build a flash website on old computers.  It's not working at all.  I may wind up paying someone else to do it. 

As I uploaded the photos, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye that made be sexually aroused and sad at the same time. 

My computers organize photos alphabetically. 

The picture of Steve is next to the picture of Thomas. 

I felt aroused as I saw Steve's picture.  I felt sad when I saw Thomas.

That is when it struck me. 

Thomas taught me that I want to see the man I love happy.  Thomas also taught me that if I leave him, his happiness is outside of my realm of action.  If he is with someone else, I cannot do anything to make him happy without violating major boundaries.   

It was a falsehood to think that letting Thomas go would lead him to find happiness elsewhere.  It is flawed to think that this will work for Steve, too.  It may.  It may not. 

I want to make the man I choose to be with to feel happy around me.  I don't want him worried that I embarrass the waiter.  I don't want him worried about my driving.  I want him wondering what kind of hot game we are going to play when we get home. 

That's it. 

To do that, I need time to get rid of the negative baggage. I also need to get close enough to him to know what I can get away with.

If I am going to live to make him happy;

he is gonna have to let me be me,  

he is gonna have to let me have freedom to scheme dirty thoughts,

-and-

he is gonna have to let me free up brainwaves to think about how to romance him rather than deflect crazy accusations. 

Judgments kill romance. 

I want to be the person I was before the stalking got really bad in 2011.  I want to be free to be me. 

I think letting go of the baggage of the past will help.  Actually I think it is helping.

I am feeling better today than I have in years.

Love ya,

S. 

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