I did it again. I promised myself I wouldn't, but it has happened and I don't know where to go from here. I've fallen for my best friend. Damn it. See we started out as lovers. And what a lover he was! Attentive, sweet, intelligent. We have a ton in common. So when his eye wandered as it soooo often does - 8 or maybe 10 women in just over a year and a half -what I so desperately did not want to lose was all that stuff we have in common and the fun we have together. So, I worked really hard to squash down all the feelings I had for him so we could just be friends. It was a long and difficult road for me and contributed to my post-partum depression and sense that my life was spiraling out of control. I finally conquered those feelings this summer when he was away and I found that being on my own wasn't so bad after all. I enjoyed my me time. We've been really close as friends. He is my best friend and will always be, I hope.
The problem is he is verrry attractive and verrrrry good in bed and when he didn't have a girlfriend after coming back home he turned to me for um.... physical release. And having not had a decent lay since the last time I was with him, I said yes.
This time, however, I promised myself that I wouldn't fall for him. I knew I wasn't "the one" for him and we were just bed buddies. At first I was good with that and I thought I was still good... till last night. You see he gets into these funks and wants to be alone and I take it personally. Which I shouldn't. I know he is like this and if he doesn't want to spend time with anyone, then I should leave him alone. That is the logical thing to do. But, I am taking it personally and I am feeling abandoned and I don't want to leave him alone. Holy shit I've fallen for him again and I can't get up!
Time to do something, take a breather, take a break. Realize that I'm being ridiculously silly. So I'm doing everything my instincts tell me not to do and that is leave him alone today. Let him be, let him breathe. We aren't dating after all, we are friends with benefits. Nothing more. It will never be more and it can change at a moment's notice. Mostly because he is sooo fickle and doesn't know what he wants out of women or life.
So if he doesn't change, I have to. I have to back up, take stock and figure out he really is not the guy for me. I wish he was a little worse in bed, that would certainly help me get back up.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Digger!
A car ride with my children typically goes like this: "Mommy diggggerrrr!" "Mommy how come the trees are.... " "Mommy crane! Mommy city bus, more city bus!" "Yes sweetie a city bus." "Mommy the trees - why are..." "Tanker truck mommy! A tanker truck!" "Can you stop talking I want to ask mommy a question!" "What do you want to know about trees?" "We go under bridge mommy? Mommy, mommy a truck!" "Wow another truck! Can you see any more diggers, sweetie?" "Mommy! why do they turn colours?" "The trees, love? Do you want to know why they turn..." "Mommy a bridge!" And so on...They used to feel quite exhausting, the car trips, I mean. Now I've gotten used to them and worry about the day when no one will be asking me about the trees and how high the clouds are and no one will be pointing out the diggers and the cranes and the tanker trucks and the fire trucks. I actually think I'll miss the incessant barrage of questions and exclamations.
Ah... I love my children. Sometimes though, like tonight, I crave a little adult conversation, a little brain workout. It's not that I don't enjoy spending time with my kids. I love it. But diggers and tanker trucks and dinosaurs and bad and good guys can only satisfy me for so long. I mean really, if you've seen one digger, you've seen them all. And tanker trucks just don't do it for me like they do for my two year old. As for dinosaurs, well I did want to be a paleontologist for the longest time, but dinos 24-7 is a bit too much, even for me. And the good guys/bad guys, ohhhh that's soooo easy. I'm the good guy, the ex is the bad guy ( I don't tell my children this, of course, but he and I both know it's true). So, that leaves me wanting that adult conversation. Sometimes I just want to talk about the world or a book I've been reading or the state of the economy or which idiot I'm going to vote for in the municipal election.
You see, being single has it's upside. I don't have to make my bed if I don't want to, or shave my legs every day if I don't want to. I can watch 5 chick flicks in a row or have toast for dinner and there is no one to bug me, no one to snore and wake me in the middle of the night, no one to fart under the covers or leave the sink all wet. But, there is also no one to bounce ideas off of, or talk to about the story I heard on the radio, or discuss philosophy with... And I can't just phone my friends at 11 o'clock at night when I get a craving for adult interaction.
Then again... when my 6 year old says, "Mommy, I love your singing" and my 2 year old says, "I love you mommy," and gives me a hug like there's no tomorrow, I suddenly don't care about philosophy or the world or anything else except DIGGGGERRRRS!
Ah... I love my children. Sometimes though, like tonight, I crave a little adult conversation, a little brain workout. It's not that I don't enjoy spending time with my kids. I love it. But diggers and tanker trucks and dinosaurs and bad and good guys can only satisfy me for so long. I mean really, if you've seen one digger, you've seen them all. And tanker trucks just don't do it for me like they do for my two year old. As for dinosaurs, well I did want to be a paleontologist for the longest time, but dinos 24-7 is a bit too much, even for me. And the good guys/bad guys, ohhhh that's soooo easy. I'm the good guy, the ex is the bad guy ( I don't tell my children this, of course, but he and I both know it's true). So, that leaves me wanting that adult conversation. Sometimes I just want to talk about the world or a book I've been reading or the state of the economy or which idiot I'm going to vote for in the municipal election.
You see, being single has it's upside. I don't have to make my bed if I don't want to, or shave my legs every day if I don't want to. I can watch 5 chick flicks in a row or have toast for dinner and there is no one to bug me, no one to snore and wake me in the middle of the night, no one to fart under the covers or leave the sink all wet. But, there is also no one to bounce ideas off of, or talk to about the story I heard on the radio, or discuss philosophy with... And I can't just phone my friends at 11 o'clock at night when I get a craving for adult interaction.
Then again... when my 6 year old says, "Mommy, I love your singing" and my 2 year old says, "I love you mommy," and gives me a hug like there's no tomorrow, I suddenly don't care about philosophy or the world or anything else except DIGGGGERRRRS!
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Food!
Ate my face off today. Don't know why it happens exactly... the eating my face off, I mean. Today it might have been the combination of lack of sleep, grumpiness and general frustration with my overtired two year old who is outgrowing his naps, but is a monster when he doesn't have one. Or, it could have been the way the wind was blowing, which planet was in alignment with my ka and which way my hair was curling today. Who knows? The point is, I couldn't stop eating, which led me to feeling bloated and fat and unattractive when I looked in the mirror. Which made me want to eat more, so that I could console myself about my body. Sigh....
The one good thing about post-partum depression... - I can't believe I just wrote that. OK, so there really isn't a single good thing about post-partum depression. Let me re-phrase that. The only thing that I didn't hate about myself (too much), when I was depressed, was my body. Other than my saggy, post-pregnancy/c section belly, I looked pretty good. I lost a lot of weight. Fifteen or eighteen pounds, I think, and for me that's a lot. Of course, I lost it because I was too depressed to eat. I had no appetite to speak of. When the kids weren't with me, I would get to the end of the week and think, "What the hell do I have in the fridge for the kids to eat? When was the last time I opened the damn fridge, anyway?" Having the kids every second week forced me to sit at the table and nibble at food and try to find something remotely interesting and inviting about eating.
And it's a good thing I have really abundant, thick hair because the lack of nutrition was making my hair fall out like crazy. I knew it wasn't healthy. I knew I needed to eat. I knew I was on the thin side because I couldn't find any clothes my size. Everything was too big. But, I wasn't hungry. I wasn't interested.
Now I'm feeling better. I'm not depressed anymore; just hungry... or bored. I know I should work out. I know I should be eating healthier, but again, I don't care. Only this time, it's not that I don't want to eat, it's that I want to eat too much. Too much junk, too often. I don't want to be depressed. Really I don't. I do want that nice body back though... That one men would look at when I walked down the street. Maybe if the wind blew the right way, the planets aligned with my ka and my hair curled up instead of down, I might feel like losing weight. Then again, if all those things happened in just the right way maybe I would just like what I saw in the mirror and not cared if I lost weight.
The one good thing about post-partum depression... - I can't believe I just wrote that. OK, so there really isn't a single good thing about post-partum depression. Let me re-phrase that. The only thing that I didn't hate about myself (too much), when I was depressed, was my body. Other than my saggy, post-pregnancy/c section belly, I looked pretty good. I lost a lot of weight. Fifteen or eighteen pounds, I think, and for me that's a lot. Of course, I lost it because I was too depressed to eat. I had no appetite to speak of. When the kids weren't with me, I would get to the end of the week and think, "What the hell do I have in the fridge for the kids to eat? When was the last time I opened the damn fridge, anyway?" Having the kids every second week forced me to sit at the table and nibble at food and try to find something remotely interesting and inviting about eating.
And it's a good thing I have really abundant, thick hair because the lack of nutrition was making my hair fall out like crazy. I knew it wasn't healthy. I knew I needed to eat. I knew I was on the thin side because I couldn't find any clothes my size. Everything was too big. But, I wasn't hungry. I wasn't interested.
Now I'm feeling better. I'm not depressed anymore; just hungry... or bored. I know I should work out. I know I should be eating healthier, but again, I don't care. Only this time, it's not that I don't want to eat, it's that I want to eat too much. Too much junk, too often. I don't want to be depressed. Really I don't. I do want that nice body back though... That one men would look at when I walked down the street. Maybe if the wind blew the right way, the planets aligned with my ka and my hair curled up instead of down, I might feel like losing weight. Then again, if all those things happened in just the right way maybe I would just like what I saw in the mirror and not cared if I lost weight.
Friday, October 15, 2010
69 days 33 miners... one loved one lost
I watched this morning as the first of 33 miners was lifted from his prison beneath the earth. Florencio Avalos spent 69 days away from life. His son was so happy and overcome with emotion that he cried as soon as he saw his father and I cried with him.
Luis Alberto Urzua; last of the miners to reach the surface after an incredible journey. Each has a story to tell; each has a life to re-join.
I listened this morning to the radio, as the announcer talked about the closure of the highway. I heard how a transport truck hit a motorist who had pulled over to the side of the highway and gotten out of his car. It was to be the last thing the motorist ever did. The police closed the highway for six hours. The traffic was thick and angry and I was late.
All day long long people complained about the clogged streets, the road rage the exasperation of not getting where they wanted to be in the time they had to get there. I complained along with them. "How long did it take you to get...?" "It was incredible. Traffic was horrible!" It wasn't till late tonight that I thought about the day and realized that being fifteen minutes late was a million times better than not getting to work at all. I lost fifteen minutes on the road, a family lost a future lifetime with the man they loved.
I wonder what Florencio and Luis Alberto wanted as their first meal now that they've been brought back to the surface and the light and their loved ones. And I wonder, if they had been stuck in the traffic jam, would they have been frustrated or would they have enjoyed the sun, the light, the noise and the freedom of being away from work for an wistful extra 15 minutes after 69 days of captivity underground?
Luis Alberto Urzua; last of the miners to reach the surface after an incredible journey. Each has a story to tell; each has a life to re-join.
I listened this morning to the radio, as the announcer talked about the closure of the highway. I heard how a transport truck hit a motorist who had pulled over to the side of the highway and gotten out of his car. It was to be the last thing the motorist ever did. The police closed the highway for six hours. The traffic was thick and angry and I was late.
All day long long people complained about the clogged streets, the road rage the exasperation of not getting where they wanted to be in the time they had to get there. I complained along with them. "How long did it take you to get...?" "It was incredible. Traffic was horrible!" It wasn't till late tonight that I thought about the day and realized that being fifteen minutes late was a million times better than not getting to work at all. I lost fifteen minutes on the road, a family lost a future lifetime with the man they loved.
I wonder what Florencio and Luis Alberto wanted as their first meal now that they've been brought back to the surface and the light and their loved ones. And I wonder, if they had been stuck in the traffic jam, would they have been frustrated or would they have enjoyed the sun, the light, the noise and the freedom of being away from work for an wistful extra 15 minutes after 69 days of captivity underground?
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Thanksgiving Turkey
Thanksgiving Day.
9:40 a.m.
I leave the warmth and comfort of my bed and walk down the stairs to silence the chirp of my cell phone. It's a statutory holiday. Who the hell is texting me at this time of the morning on one of my few days off? I have six texts from an unknown number.
I hit yes. The texts are from a woman I've never met, whose name is Dory. Dory it seems, has been looking through her boyfriend's phone and has found my texts. Paul is her boyfriend's name. He's also the guy I've been seeing for the last few months. Turns out Paul is a cheater and a liar, according to Dory. I'm inclined to agree. She didn't know about me and decided to text me because she figured I didn't know about her. She was right.
1st thought: OH THANK GOD! Now I don't have to come up with a reason why I don't want to date this turkey anymore.
How long have you been seeing him? I text.
A year. is the response. So I apologize and answer that I didn't know anything about her and then go on to tell her that Paul and I hadn't gotten physical yet and to let him know that I don't want anything more to do with him. She thanks me for my honesty and says she'll pass on the message.
2nd thought: Wow! Someone actually found him attractive enough to be with him for a year?!
Don't get me wrong, the guy is intelligent, interesting, and I had some great conversations with him; but he's about as attractive as Sheldon from Big Bang Theory. I met him on a free online dating site (1st mistake - signing up on that site!). I went on a couple of dates with him. I spent the next few months trying to come up with excuses for why I couldn't see him that week, or the next or the one after that.
I'm not very good at telling people when I don't like them. OK, truth be told, I'm horrible at it. I just don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I know, I know, I have to work on saying no. But in this case, I just gotta say, thank God Paul is a bigger dweeb than I ever imagined. He saved me from feeling guilty about dumping him. My therapist would have a field day with all this!
3rd thought: I thought he was a pretty harmless dweeb. Seemed pretty sincere, sweet, and sooooo unattractive. Very unlike his online picture. The good-bye kiss he gave me last time was about as sexy as kissing a wet paper towel. I also thought I was a pretty good judge of character. Hmmm... Have to re-think that.
I walk back upstairs with my phone. "Who's that?" asks my very best friend, Clark. "A student," I lie. They actually do text me all the time... I crawl back into bed and snuggle up against Clark. There is a certain hardness bumping up against my ass. Guess I'm not going back to sleep, after all. Clark, unlike Paul, kisses nothing like a wet paper towel.
4th thought: I really have to be careful about who I meet online. What if I had fallen for Paul? Liked him? What if someone online had fallen for me? C'mon, I haven't dated anyone for a year. But, I can't say no, remember?
9:40 a.m.
I leave the warmth and comfort of my bed and walk down the stairs to silence the chirp of my cell phone. It's a statutory holiday. Who the hell is texting me at this time of the morning on one of my few days off? I have six texts from an unknown number.
VIEW MESSAGE?
I hit yes. The texts are from a woman I've never met, whose name is Dory. Dory it seems, has been looking through her boyfriend's phone and has found my texts. Paul is her boyfriend's name. He's also the guy I've been seeing for the last few months. Turns out Paul is a cheater and a liar, according to Dory. I'm inclined to agree. She didn't know about me and decided to text me because she figured I didn't know about her. She was right.
1st thought: OH THANK GOD! Now I don't have to come up with a reason why I don't want to date this turkey anymore.
How long have you been seeing him? I text.
A year. is the response. So I apologize and answer that I didn't know anything about her and then go on to tell her that Paul and I hadn't gotten physical yet and to let him know that I don't want anything more to do with him. She thanks me for my honesty and says she'll pass on the message.
2nd thought: Wow! Someone actually found him attractive enough to be with him for a year?!
Don't get me wrong, the guy is intelligent, interesting, and I had some great conversations with him; but he's about as attractive as Sheldon from Big Bang Theory. I met him on a free online dating site (1st mistake - signing up on that site!). I went on a couple of dates with him. I spent the next few months trying to come up with excuses for why I couldn't see him that week, or the next or the one after that.
I'm not very good at telling people when I don't like them. OK, truth be told, I'm horrible at it. I just don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I know, I know, I have to work on saying no. But in this case, I just gotta say, thank God Paul is a bigger dweeb than I ever imagined. He saved me from feeling guilty about dumping him. My therapist would have a field day with all this!
3rd thought: I thought he was a pretty harmless dweeb. Seemed pretty sincere, sweet, and sooooo unattractive. Very unlike his online picture. The good-bye kiss he gave me last time was about as sexy as kissing a wet paper towel. I also thought I was a pretty good judge of character. Hmmm... Have to re-think that.
I walk back upstairs with my phone. "Who's that?" asks my very best friend, Clark. "A student," I lie. They actually do text me all the time... I crawl back into bed and snuggle up against Clark. There is a certain hardness bumping up against my ass. Guess I'm not going back to sleep, after all. Clark, unlike Paul, kisses nothing like a wet paper towel.
4th thought: I really have to be careful about who I meet online. What if I had fallen for Paul? Liked him? What if someone online had fallen for me? C'mon, I haven't dated anyone for a year. But, I can't say no, remember?
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