Work, Write, Love

There are so many things wrong right now. It’s ridiculous. I’m thinking too much and everything is driving me crazy. I think I’m getting slightly depressed because I’m stuck inside all the time recently because of the weather, with all of this cold and snow that’s been coming through everywhere here in the eastern United States. I guess it doesn’t make anything better when my fiance is working overtime because one of his co-workers is so badly injured that he isn’t able to work for the next two (2) months, so him and his other co-workers are putting in an exponential amount of extra hours to cover for him. This week, alone, he’s worked over sixty (60) hours. While, yes, the paycheck’s going to be lovely and both of us are looking forward to it… I miss him. I miss him a lot and I don’t get to spend enough time with him. We used to spend more time with each other. Hell, when my aunt was living with us we saw more of each other then, than we do now and we had severe privacy issues back then!

But all of this is just me ranting and raving. I need to get it out of my system. I have nobody – absolutely no one – to talk to about all of this.

I don’t have any close friends. I don’t really trust my family with personal information any more. It’s come to the point that the therapist who stops by bi-weekly to help with my child in his development (he’s a little behind, y’see) is easier to talk to than anybody else… except, of course, my fiance. But then it comes down to the fact that he’s never here and when he is, he seems to be sleeping because he’s so worn out from working. We never talk anymore. We never spend time with each other. We don’t even have money for a single Valentine’s Day dinner, I’ve come to find out.

I’m trying to figure out his schedule so that maybe I can arrange my mother and stepfather to babysit the children for a night or two so that my fiance and I can just have a night to ourselves and we can just, I don’t know, go out. Spend time with each other. See a movie. Have dinner. Go to a bar. Just have fun with each other. It’s not a big deal. The whole point, nonetheless, being is that we just need to spend time with each other. Without the children. Every couple does.

I feel like I’m losing him. And maybe it’s just me. I know I get paranoid sometimes and I definitely know that I have a tendency to overthink things, but it seems like my fiance and I have been growing distant from each other as of late and I don’t like it. Not one bit.

I know he loves me though. I need to stop being paranoid. The signs are there that he loves me. I’m letting too many things build up inside of me. Little things. Reminders from my past; things that people have said to me that are starting to get to me. It’s unfair and I don’t like it. I know what he’s really like. But again, that’s the problem. The little things that are wiggling their way into my mind are making me doubt stuff like that and, in my mind, if I really love my fiance I shouldn’t ever doubt him. I know that nobody is perfect; I know that no relationship is perfect, but I can’t help but continually wonder if something’s going wrong or if… just if.

I’ve wandered into “what if” categories. I really don’t think that’s a good sign.

A good sign, though, I think, is that he is the one person (not including my children) that I can’t picture myself without. I think and think and think, and then it occurs to me that we already act like we’re married. We share bills, rent, a home, chores, cooking (though, I will admit he does the majority when he’s not working); we share decisions and we compromise. We actually talk about where we’re heading in the future – where we want to go, in the sense of “when we finally get a house of our own and not this place, we’ll…” or “when we’re more financially stable we’ll take a trip to *example place* with the kids… they’d love it”. It makes my heart just grow and burst with such warmth. I feel like squealing and crying from happiness sometimes.

And, y’know, I guess it’s also probably a really good sign that when I’m reading my romance novels or watching my romantic-comedies (*cough* chick-flicks), or any sort of movie or book that has a significant amount of romance in it, I picture the leading female as myself and the leading male as my fiance. Especially once they start dating; especially if it’s starting to get more romantic. The thing is, though, it doesn’t have to be the “more romantic” parts. I have a wild imagination, and if I can picture my fiance and I doing something similar – then we’re in whatever book or movie I’m watching or reading at the time.

I love him and I’m in love with him. I’m not convincing myself of this. I’ve known it for about a year and a half now. My feelings have not faded; they’ve only grown stronger. I guess, though, I didn’t anticipate all of the other emotions – the stress, anxiety – that would come with it.

But he makes me feel beautiful. He makes me feel whole. He makes me feel complete. With him, I am me and no one else. I don’t have to be. He feel in love with me at my worst and has helped me pick up the pieces. I truly believe he loves me for who I am. It’s just hard to believe sometimes. It’s a scary thought… to have found somebody so completely right for me that they’re willing to accept all of my fuck-ups & help me through my rough patches. It’s hard to comprehend to have found somebody who loves me even if my family is so against the relationship, or just completely horrible in their own right but he still loves me because, well, because my family does not define me. My family is not who I am. Just because I am related to them by blood does not always mean they are my family.

And he accepts me. And he loves me. And he loves my children.

That’s all that matters.

Fuck the world. We don’t need anyone else. Nobody else’s opinion matters.

Just ours.

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What Did I Say?

This is something that I honestly don’t understand. I need somebody to talk to about it and I have no one. Literally no one. If I told anybody in my family judgement and hatred would follow and I just don’t want that.

I spoke to my fiance earlier, about an hour ago. I thanked him for being there for me when I needed someone the most. I thanked him for pushing me to stop going out and partying and drinking so much. I told him that if it wasn’t for him, I probably would not have changed as much as I have [in a good way].

About half-way through me telling him, he looked away. A few minutes after that he dropped his arm from around my shoulders. Did I say something wrong? I just… I don’t understand. I even asked him if I said anything that he didn’t want to hear or if I said something wrong, but he wouldn’t say anything at all. Finally I just moved away from him. My insecurity took hold of me too much. I started crying. I had to move away from him. It felt cold trying to curl up to him when I felt like he didn’t even want me around.

About ten minutes ago he just got up and walked away. He didn’t say anything or look my way at all. I looked at him, hoping he would say something. He didn’t.

I just…. I’m so confused. Help?

Post-Note: To Prevent Confusion

I feel like I owe some sort of explanation, a post-note of sorts, because there might be some confusion or misunderstanding with some things that I mentioned in my last post: Love & Friendship Prevails. I hope this clears things up. Otherwise, ask me whatever you want. 🙂

In my last post I wrote that I don’t sleep with guys before I get to know them or on the first date. Later on I go on to say that I had given him a blowjob, and further, that I “began sleeping with all those men from the bar for a couple of months”.

I want to point out that that is not who I am.

I was not lying when I first said I don’t sleep with a guy on the first date or before I get to know them. It is no excuse, but as I stated in the post, after being raped three (3) times in such a short period of time, I didn’t feel I was good for much else and I went into a frenzy of depression and any spare moment I had to myself I was out partying, getting drunk, and sleeping with a different guy. It is not an excuse.

To put how worthless I felt in perspective let me tell you a few things about myself.

    • I never went to parties while I was in high school or after high school, even though I was invited.
    • I was a [clueless] virgin until I was 18 years old.
    • I didn’t drink alcohol before I was 21 years old.
    • My children’s father was the third (3rd) guy I had sex with.
    • My children’s father raped me multiple times. He thought I wanted it even though I said no.
    • I didn’t get into any sort of relationship after I left my ex for a year.
    • The first serious relationship I got into, after my divorce, ended when he raped me and laughed at me afterward when I was crying and bleeding.
    • He was the fourth (4th) guy I had ever had sex with.
    • I attempted to date another guy three or so months later. I got to know him over several dates. He was the fifth (5th) guy I had sex with.
    • He never spoke to me again after we had sex.
    • Less than six months after the previous rape, I was [date] raped at my best friend’s belated birthday party.
    • He was, if you count it, the sixth (6th) guy I had sex with.
    • Afterward, I had sex with 10+ men in less than two months. Sometimes more than one at a time.
    • And a couple women. I’m bisexual. I lean toward men.
    • I stopped sleeping with multiple men (and women) when I met the guy I’m dating now.
    • I truly went partying for the first time after the last [date] rape (with the 6th guy). That was, also, when I started going to to the bar every weekend.
    • I didn’t stop partying and drinking for almost six more months; I was an alcoholic.

At the time the date-rape occurred, I was just getting my confidence back in myself and about ready to attempt to date seriously. I never would have slept with him because of my past. Most especially not until I heard what my best friend’s opinion on him was, a thorough opinion, and until I got to know him better. The rape essentially broke me and sent me spiralling into a depression and I tried to bury the memories of it in alcohol, erotic dancing, and more sex.

Do I regret what I did now? Yes. Was there anything I could have done to prevent it? Probably not.

I was one of the lucky ones. I didn’t contract an STD (sexually transmitted disease). I’ve been tested multiple times extensively, especially since I’ve been raped, and I’ve come up clear. Also, since I slept with so many men in so little time, most of the time without a condom, I was extremely lucky I didn’t get an STD.

It was the darkest point in my life. I ignored my children for a social life I shouldn’t have even had. It was a social life of people that wanted to party and get drunk all the time. I kept alcohol in my home, at least two kinds, at all times for several months. Whenever something happened, whenever my kids were gone, I would want to go out and dance and drink and party. There were even times when I knew my children would be gone and I knew I wouldn’t hear from my boyfriend so I went out and partied; my boyfriend didn’t approve of what I was doing and he was trying to get me to stop. I think he knew when I did anyway and didn’t tell me, he just continued to discourage me from doing it.

It’s because of him that I stopped drinking and partying constantly. If it wasn’t for him, I would probably still be in a very bad place.

Since him, though, I have not slept with anyone else, though I have had plenty of offers. (I became known as a bar slut, a reputation I am happy to be rid of.) Since my fiance, I’ve only gotten drunk a handful of times since I truly stopped partying and he was with me each time.

I’m happy now.

Though, I do wish I were able to go dancing more. Drunk or not, I like dancing. 😉

Stupid Insecurity

I really feel stupid now. Seriously.

Less than 24 hours after I posted about my insecurities about my fiance, he proves me wrong.

We’re talking downstairs today while he’s helping me feed my children and we, ourselves, are eating at the same time and he brings up the fact that he’s going to try and get a Skype number instead of ordering a SIM card from Wal-Mart, since the Skype number only costs $18 for three months.

I feel like such a bitch for assuming the worst. Needless to say, I didn’t tell him about my assumptions. I don’t plan to either. While the guilt is still lingering in the back of my mind, I mostly just feel stupid and idiotic for assuming what I did: that he was cheating on me, that he was doing something horrific behind my back that he didn’t want me to know about.

I’m glad that I was wrong. Even moreso, I’m glad that I didn’t tell him about my suspicions during my weak moment last night.

What’s even worse is that he came downstairs after I posted about it last night, I had been crying, and he wanted to know what was wrong; I shouldn’t have suspected anything after that, but it’s what happened after that should’ve confirmed it even more. I explained how lonely I was feeling, how I felt that no one really was caring for me and that I had little meaning in life. I know I’m falling into a depression and I’m trying to stop it. I really am. I’ve been down this road before and it’s not fun.

He just held me and comforted me. He told me things were going to get better and when he got his financial aid later in the month he’d move me out of the hellhole I’m living in and me and my children would all live together with him like a family. We wouldn’t live in the bad part of town and we wouldn’t scrounge for money each month. After I stopped crying, he made dinner and, get this, he made a pie FROM SCRATCH. It was delicious.

I don’t know what I did to deserve him. I really don’t. He’s a wonderful man and I love him. I don’t know why, or how, I doubted him. I honestly feel like such a bitch. Such a horrible person for thinking the things I did about him last night.

I believe him though. Things will get better. Things will look up.

“Life has it’s ups and downs, but without the bad you wouldn’t see the good.”

“Assume: ASS out of U and ME”