I Find Myself Longing For Change And In The Bad Times I Fear Myself

Monday I had a friend over and I got so drunk. Something I’ve done less than a handful of times in my entire life. Drinking is really not something I find desirable shall we say. Anyways, life has been stressing me out more than normal and so I just let it all go. Nothing crazy happened that night but I mention it only so that when I say I missed two calls from the prison, you’ll understand why. It’s because I was so drunk I spent the night caressing the porcelain throne as opposed to watching for calls lol.

I remember being slightly upset when I saw the missed calls on my phone but it was right when I started to feel sick and the nauseated feeling definitely outweighed the sorrow of missing a phone conversation.

Which brings us to Wednesday, when I’m at work. AT WORK!!! And the COMPANY PHONE RINGS, and its the prison number. At work, on the company phone. Not even my own personal cell phone number anymore. This time, it was a female prisoner calling from somewhere in the country (I can’t remember now but I know I recognized the name of the city at the time of the call) but it was registering as the same number that calls my phone. I guess all the prisons use the same outgoing number? I’m not sure. Either way, I answered the call. Apparently it was some girl looking for her aunt. She asked if I was Anne. Nope I’m not. Then she asked if I was someone else (can’t remember I was so in shock, like literally what in the world was going on) so I said no. And she said she was looking for her aunt and I said sorry I can’t help and basically hung up. I was at work and this was just getting crazy now. Then I just let out one of those shocked laugh/chuckle things which led my co-worker to ask what happened, so I explained what happened.

So my boss A storms around the corner ‘that’s not funny’ ‘this has to stop’ Insinuating that I’ve arranged this somehow, or I have power over when the phone rings. Look I’m at work doing my job answering the phone YOU told me to answer. But he just kept going on and on about how if ‘they’re tracking me, and now know where I work, and are calling me here, then they are probably tracking him and my co-worker and it puts everyone in danger’. Etc.

I’m like don’t flatter yourself buddy. Trust me. No one has any interest in you. But good to know your a little bitch who lives in fear. But instead of feed his fear, I did my best to calm him down and explain it was a misdial and it was a girl from a different prison and she was looking for her aunt and all I did was answer the call so he backed off. For the moment. But then throughout the day he used our inter-office messaging system and it kept popping up on my computer…

‘Any more calls like that and you must report them to me immediately’

‘The likelihood of those calls being unrelated are highly unlikely’

I just kept thinking dude just back off and let me do my work. Right now, your causing more of a disturbance and threat to my peace than those calls ever did. I’m sorry you search out fear and panic, but I’m just going to move on and forget about it. If something happens then I’ll deal with it then. But for now, I’ve got enough REAL junk in my life that I’m not gonna create delusional shit in my mind.

So. Lol. Anyone else have ‘random’ prison calls at work and home?

-Lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper / Shallow-

I Put My Feelings On Safety So I Don’t Go Shootin’ Where Your Heart Be

Those phone calls threw me for a major loop.

I’ve been doing my best in moving on from K. Settling in here in Kelowna, trying to forget. But those calls brought back all the memories I was trying to put behind me. All the pain and feelings of not being good enough. So I needed a distraction.

And therefore obviously did the stupidest thing I could have, but I called up a one nighter again.  Of course he swung by Saturday night with drinks and I did what I always do when I’m trying to avoid life, we fucked. But mid-thrust, I started crying. No joke you guys.

I started crying because this guy wasn’t K. And even worse than that, I started crying because I really truly understood in that moment that K was never coming.

K is never going to come sweep me off my feet.

K is never going to fulfill any of his promises he made to me to love me.

K is not the man I thought he was.

K can’t love me how I thought he would.

And so it hit me dead on while this dick was fucking me from behind, that I hated him. Both K and this random guy. I hated all of them. And I started bawling. So of course this guy was trying to console me because he’s obviously freaking out that the chick he’s banging is crying for no apparent reason, so he made the massive mistake of asking what was wrong? So then I just started pouring it out. ALLLL of it. Pour unfortunate soul.

Everything gushed out. How I loved this guy with everything I had, and he broke my heart and I feel I’m to broken to be loved now. And how I really honestly truly thought this guy would still keep his word and come through. For me. For my kids. For us. Because I thought he felt the same way. Because he told me he felt the same way. Because he showed me he felt the same way. So if he felt it so deeply for me, then how can he not be feeling similar to how I’ve been feeling? How can he not be hurting too? And if he was/is possibly hurting in the same way, and he knows the ball is in his court, why the fuck would he keep it there and not make a move towards making things better for both of us?

Because he must not have ever felt the same way about me.

So I need to stop imagining stupid scenarios in my head where he keeps his word.

No man has ever…… I dunno how to explain it. No man has ever just done what they said they were going to do? Stayed with me. Loved me. Been true to their word. Why should K be any different?

So I managed to stop crying enough for the random one nighter (that’s a lie, it was his second time… I had him over about 2 months ago, which is why I had his number) anyways, he’s all like, don’t think about him anymore, I’ll treat you good, etc etc. You know all the socially acceptable things you would say to a girl who broke down crying right in the throws of everything, juices dripping and all. So I just told him to wrap it up and head out the door.

I wasn’t then, nor do I think will I be anytime soon, in the mood for sex. He’s honestly been the second guy I’ve slept with here where all I could think about was K, and that’s not fair to them. I’ve never had this issue before.

In the past, I was able to just get all my sexual needs satisfied, and move on for the day. I was too good at it in fact. But now I just see K’s face, or I’m comparing tactics or, well just about everything they do, I’m comparing to how K would’ve done it. And it’s not good enough.

And I hate it.

Because I know he’s out there enjoying his life and I’m stuck here. In this emotional state that I never wanted to be in. That I tried avoiding SOOO many times, but he kept pushing me deeper and deeper into, and he’s not even here to catch me.

I hate him.

And myself. For FALLING too far in love. To a point I don’t know how to get out of.

Doesn’t help that T, the prison guy keeps calling and I feel like I enjoy the chats in general, but he keeps pushing for info on K/G, and how I know him etc but I just don’t wanna talk about him. I wanna just talk on the phone to someone about life. Life without K/G.


-Ella Mae/Trip-

 

Have Old Friends And Know Our Enemies Now I-, I’m thinking Back To When I Was Young Back To The Day When I Was Falling In Love

So I got a call from prison this week. Not the prison officials themselves, but a guy on the inside.

My obvious first instinct when I heard the recording “An inmate from so and so is trying to call you press 1 to accept the call” was that it was K, and that something had happened and he was locked up again.

So I pressed 1.

Me: Hello?

Them: Hello, this is J, is this Beyonce?

Me: What? No.

Them: Oh my friend gave me this number to call to talk to Beyonce, is that you?

Now, I’m actually concerned that K is back in prison and is in bigger trouble than I first thought because he can’t even make his own phone calls, and has to somehow send some other guy to call me using the stupid nicknames that they always use.

Me: Is he OK?

Them: Yeah, yeah, he’s getting out next week. What’s your name?

Me: You’re the one who called me. What do you want? Whats your name again?

And then the call got weird, he kept asking me to describe the friend who sent him, or give my name, and I was high and didn’t want to give away anything that might possible harm K in any way especially if for some reason he couldn’t call me himself. Like why was he sending some random guy to call? Was he tryna let me know something? Anyways, the guy who by the end of the phone call had given me a second name (what is it with criminals and multiple names?) assured me the friend who gave him my number was good and was getting out next week. And then we hung up.

I was left with far more questions than answers.

Is this why K hadn’t called? What stupid thing had he done that had sent him back? Why didn’t he call me himself? Was he in seg? Did he just get in? How could he be getting out next week? If he was ok, why didn’t he call himself instead of giving my number to someone else? Why do I still care so much? Ok that one wasn’t really a question because I know I still love him, but I’m trying to move on. But all the other ones were legitimately boggling my mind.

The next day, Thursday, I got another call from the prison that helped clear things up… unfortunately.

It was the friend who had sent the first caller. And it was not K.

Most of me was instantly relieved that K was not back in. But also, I was heartbroken that K had still not reached out to me in any capacity. Pissed and emotional to be more precise.

All I could think were what are the odds that anyone else would call me from the SAME lock up that K used to be in? Once the guy on the phone tried to explain to me what happened, which apparently my number and the girl they were trying to reach… Our phone numbers were 1 digit off, and the original caller had misread 2 for 3 or something like that.

Anyways, it fucked with me.

All the chances of all this happening? The second guy, T, kept trying to dig around on the call, figure out my name and what had happened on the first call. I was just so overwhelmed with disappointment that at one point on the call I started to tear up, because I couldn’t help myself. I had imagined in my head that K had finally called. That he had finally reached out to me. That he finally cared again. Near the end of the call I used K’s prison name”G” and asked if he was in prison. Just in case. And T was like OHHH G?  I know him! I just talked to him last week! Yeah I was on the phone with my friend on the outside and G hopped on and was saying things like how he got off parole in March etc. I was like yeah I know, you don’t have to tell me. Then T goes on to describe K/G.  “He’s a black guy? Stocky, bald, chest tattoo?” And I’m like trust me you don’t need to describe him to me. At that time I’m just angry. Angry that some fucking train hasn’t run him over. Angry that he’s calling everyone but me. Angry he’s chatting up people on the phone who barely know him, but not calling me. Pissed off that his words to me mean nothing to him. Frustrated that I can’t trust anything he’s said, even though those words were all that I’ve been holding onto for months now. Which means I have nothing left.

And that’s when I started getting emotional on the phone. It’s also when the time on our call was up.

But T called back. He wanted to make sure I was ok. I explained that I had just gotten my hopes up based on how the first call yesterday went.  T was saying that if G called again he could let him know about this, and I’m like PLEASE NO! He doesn’t need to know. He has my number, I have his. We’re well acquainted. If K/G had wanted to call, he would’ve. So then T is like well do you mind if I call sometimes? This has been one of the best, most real conversations I’ve had while locked up, and you seem like a chill girl, I’d like to get to know you more.

We had talked about his girl who has a new man and he wanted to win her back, I told him to move on, since she obviously had, and she wasn’t worth it. I told him to not fuck up his next chance once he got out etc. I literally have no clue who this dude is, but he’s getting out of prison next week and sounded like he wanted a chat, and I had nothing to do at the moment, so why not. We talked about what he was in for and his plans for the future. We talked about a lot of things.

In fact to be honest, I haven’t had a half decent chat like that since K and I used to talk every night. So I told him I wouldn’t mind if he called sometimes. But at the moment I just needed to end the call because I needed to cry. A lot. He tried to talk to me and say I seemed like a really cool girl, and whatever was going on I don’t deserve. I told him that it wasn’t his issue to try to solve, and he was saying I know, but when a woman cries a man should be there for her. Which just made me feel even more emotional. So I told him thanks for the call. Don’t fuck up when you get out. And I had to hang up.

Because a man should be there for a woman when she cries. At the very least he shouldn’t be the only reason she continually cries.

What are the odds that my world continually throws K back in my face, without actually letting my face see K?


-Benny Blanco Ft. Halsey and Khalid/Eastside-

I Don’t Care About Titles Anymore

It’s been a while.

A long stressful while.

I was sick last week just from everything going on in my life and just didn’t feel like writing, nor did I have the energy. I honestly can’t remember what I’ve told you so far about my recent life shenanigans, so I’ll just start off where ever and hope you can fill in the blanks as needed…. Great blogging at it’s best hey?

So. I had an offer on my house and after a few negotiations back and forth, we settled on a price, where I’m loosing money on the deal but we all knew that was going to happen from the get go. The inspection went fine. They got their financing in order. Everything should be good to go right?

AHAHAHAHAHH. Nope.

Turns out when I took it to my lawyer to do up the final paperwork, they require E to sign. Ummm? Excuse me? WTF for? This is my house. I’m the only name on title. I bought it AFTER I filed for divorce. E has never lived there, never paid a bill, never had any responsibility for this house. Why in the goddamn mother fucking world do I need HIS signature to sell MY house!!!?!???!??!!  Well “apparently” the lawyer says, it’s so he can’t come after 50% of the sale. It’s so he understands what I’m doing with my property. WHAT THE FUCK! It’s my property. My name is the only name on the property. There should literally be no need for his signature. And we all know how long it takes for that idiot to sign anything. So I asked my lawyer what happens if E doesn’t sign this house document? To which he informed me that the buyers could sue me for breach of contract for at least the value of the house, if not more if they can’t move in when they were supposed to get possession (which is April 10th).

So here I am. Everything was all arranged and looking good. I even had finally made an accepted offer on a great place in Kelowna, which I won’t even discuss now, since right now, I’m back to E fucking up everything in my life.

I have been calling E and texting him since the weekend trying to explain how important this house paper is for him to sign. I asked him to make an appointment with his lawyer so he could go and sign. So he told me he made an appointment for yesterday (Tuesday) at 3. I asked him no less than a dozen times if he was sure he had an appointment, and if he was ready to sign, he said yes.

So I offered to drive him. I wanted to make sure he got to his appointment on time. So I left work early yesterday to go and pick him up. He still hadn’t sent me his address, so I had to go looking through old emails and texts to find it, meanwhile hoping he still lived at that house. All day he wasn’t answering my calls so I’m just hoping he hasn’t taken off somewhere and that he’s actually still planning on going to this meeting. Around 2 o’clock I’m parked outside what I think is his house and I”m calling him and texting him repeatedly. At this point I don’t care if I look like a stalker, I actually had a brief moment where I thought maybe, just maybe this whole E fiasco could’ve been finished yesterday. All the papers could’ve been signed and I would’ve been free.

But no. He’s not answering my calls or text’s even when I said it was an emergency… give me a break, to me it was an emergency. And it was even more annoying because I could see that he was online on WhatsApp reading my messages. So I’m sitting there in my car deciding if I should go knock on this door where I think he’s renting a room, when he literally walks by my car.

So I laid into my horn for so much longer than necessary but it felt so good. He turns and I yelled at him to get in.

That’s when I lost it. I vented so many years of anger I’ve had towards him. I yelled and cursed and screamed and cried and just basically told him how much I hate him for ruining my life. Let’s just say it was a few years of built up stress.

And of course he just sat there not understanding what was going on with his hands between his legs staring ahead at nothing. Story of our lives. I didn’t even feel better after I was done my rant because I knew it fell on deaf ears. All I wanted him to understand was that I needed him to sign the papers TODAY.

So we arrive at his lawyers, where he has guaranteed me multiple times that he had a 3 o’clock appointment.

He didn’t.

He literally just walked straight back into his lawyers office and sat down even though the lawyer was with another client (I was so dumb to ever marry this man) so the lawyer had to tell him to wait outside for a minute as his finished up with his current client. I was sitting in the waiting room (like normal people do) and I saw the other clients walk out a minute later.

Then I hear E go in and his lawyer ask what he’s doing there since he didn’t have an appointment (surprise surprise). So E said he was there to sign. Then his lawyer says he ADVISES E NOT TO SIGN!!!!

I can hear this from the waiting room and I’m like hell no! So I walked to the room, and interrupted them by asking him why he would advise him not to sign, if he specifically said he came here to sign? Is this what you as his lawyer have been doing for the past 4 years? Are you the reason I’m still married? I honestly felt like in that moment he was taking advantage of E and his disability, just doing anything he could to rack up more hours through E. So the lawyers like who is this to E, and E’s like oh she drove me.

So I’m like I’m C, I drove him because he said he had an appointment and he wanted to sign the documents that you for some reason are telling him not to sign? Why?

To which the lawyer got all flustered and told me to get out off his office, and of course I replied back with the obvious and very cheeky retort that I wasn’t in his office I was standing outside the door. ;0 And that he should respect his clients wishes, if E wants to sign, let him sign. To which he stood up walked towards me angrily saying things like who am I to tell him how to do his job/get out of the office etc. SOOOO I said his job was to get us divorced. And if he couldn’t complete that in under 4 years he was failing at his job miserably, so maybe he needed someone to monitor him and watch to make sure he was doing his job and not taking advantage of individuals who have no idea of whats going on because they are so mentally disabled like E. What was he trying to do? just rack up more chargable hours? Which by the way E can’t pay because he quit his job over a month ago, but I didn’t tell the lawyer that. That’s just something I get to stress on all on my own, not having the child support income.

Anyways, I walked out of the office and got into my car and drove a little ways away and started crying. My realtor was calling trying to figure out what to do about this E thing, my lawyer was calling asking if I had any suggestions. And I literally just wanted to be left alone. If I had ANY idea on how to persuade E on how to sign a simple paper, I wouldn’t still be married at this point now would I?

So I just cried. I drove away and left E to find his own way home. And I cried. A lot. And I got very frustrated and overwhelmed to the point where I felt that nothing, nothing was worth this… whatever this was. And I decided to go home and had no idea what to do with myself. (welcome to my very honest blog)

So I got home near 4 o’clock and walked down to the basement. Where I cried. A lot. I tried calling K but he was at work and it went straight to voicemail, which frustrated me even more. That’s when my mom called.

And so I answered and just cried. She thought E had hurt me again as I started telling the story, but it wasn’t that. It was just reaching the end. Just being so utterly exhausted that you didn’t feel you could go on. I was talking on the phone with my mom when K called back, and I told my mom I had to go, because I didn’t want K freaking out if I didn’t answer because I’d left him a pretty desperate voicemail, and we had a perfect conversation that I really needed since he always pulls me through.

OOOOHHH my God.

So interrupt everything. My lawyer just called and said E’s lawyer sent her an email saying he doesn’t think E is capable of signing and he needs a full medical evaluation before continuing. Story of my fucking life. I’m done for the day.


 

We Need To Take It Back In Time When Music Made Us All Unite Money Can’t Buy Us Happiness Can We All Slow Down And Enjoy Right Now

Lately I’ve been wondering how people gather enough courage to run off and start a new life.

Legitimate question in my mind. I figure now would be as good a time if any to run away, and I’m just done with my life as is. So, that being said, how do people gather the strength to just leave everything and start fresh somewhere new.

My house has been sold and so I have to pack up and be out by April 10th anyways. I had to buy a new car on Friday (which is a whole other post), I’ve just become too frustrated with literally everything going on with attempting to purchase a new house in Kelowna, that I’m not even interested in moving anymore. I’ve made offers on three different houses that have been outbid and they ended up accepting CASH offers that went way over original asking price. So I honestly feel I didn’t even have a fighting chance. My boss is acting like I’m not trying, asking what I could’ve done differently, and what’s my plan “little missus” UMMM first off, don’t ever fucken call me little missus. Second, I know the fucken deadline, I know my damn budget and I realize we are supposed to be moving in 3 months. It’s not my fault I don’ walk around with $350,000+ CASH in my bank account so my offers have to have a “conditional to financing” in them…. like most normal peoples do. Agh, I’m just over it. Like I want to walk into work and quit. But now my house is sold, most my pocket cash went into buying a good car, so that it wouldn’t be an issue for years to come, and so I have to keep this job for now.

Of course there are so many other factors contributing to this thought train, but I’d honestly like to know, what kind of pre-planning goes into a situation like this? Where you feel like nothing is fucking worth it anymore/you’ve failed at it all, and a new start with 100% new people sounds delightful, but terrifying at the same time.

Pretty much the only thing stopping me at this point, and obviously the most important part,  is the fact that I obviously don’t know where I’d go, and therefore I don’t have a job. If I had a mobile source of income, some online business etc, I’d be out like there was no tomorrow, but since I have kids to support I can’t just be taking off with them with no plan on how I’d be buying groceries in a month, or their education etc.

But the idea of starting over. New. Clean. Mistake free.

Sounds delightful.

But for now, I’ll just have to suck it up, realize that I’ve fucked up, other people have fucked up, and money is far more important than it should be.


-Jessie J/ Price Tag-

I Remember All The Feelings And The Day They Stopped

Last summer (2016), after I bought my own house (Yeah me!), I fell back into old habits (Boo me). Like they say, old habits die hard. I hadn’t slept with anyone since I had left E almost 2.5 years ago, since I had more important things to focus on, like school and my kids and just adjusting to being a single mom.  So I was just really wanting that feeling of someone else in bed with me. I was looking for a companion… kinda. Nah that’s a lie. Lol I just wanted to be fucked really good. You know that really good sex where you forget everything else that’s happening in the world and its just your body feeling so far beyond sensational you can’t move… That’s what I wanted. I wanted mind blowing sex that would make me forget the state of my crappy life. A lot to ask for from a guy I most likely met 5 face to face minutes before, but I was willing to take on that challenge. So of course I started looking in all the wrong places, which lead me to all the wrong guys. Duh.

With most of the guys I’ve slept with since last summer, I’ve held my hard and fast rule of one and done. We had our one night stand and you were maybe half decent, but it wasn’t the scandalous, mind blowing night I was looking for, so I’m moving on. Most of them.

But one guy wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was looking for friends and connections too, and it had been a while since he’d slept with someone as well. For reasons very different from mine. K (or C.J./F.P./G… seriously who the fuck needs that many names? Figure out who you are and run with it) had just gotten out of a 4.5 year stint in prison. Yea, I know how to pick ’em hey. But for real, I don’t judge anyone on anything. I have my own messed up past, who am I to judge.

Anyways we hooked up for the first time back in August the same way I meet all my guys and then somehow it never stopped. He called like a week later and I was honestly surprised to hear from him. He convinced me that for some reason we needed each other at that time. Then the calls continued and I started enjoying the late night chats that would last for hours. Then the meet ups became more and more frequent. We have both been through a shit ton of crap in our respective lives and it’s like we could understand each other without judgement. I thought.

We went out one time together in October. I had gotten tickets from work to an Opera and K agreed to go with me. Ohhhh that night. lol. I put way more effort into it then it was worth. At this time I had considered an actual relationship with K, but he was adamant about it only being a friends with benefits type thing. Which he told me flat out at the beginning. I was totally cool with that, but I was getting attached. It’d been so long since a guy had treated me with any type of kindness and I completely let unwarranted emotion overrun me. In more recent months, when I think about it, I realize the fruitlessness of K and I ever being anything long-term, but back then, I was still in the mindset of anything was better then nothing. Great reminder of how messed up I am when it comes to men.

So at the Opera, I was actually really excited to spend the night with him and to see how it went. K, on the other hand was super nervous. Let’s just say he’s not the Opera type. He’d just spent 4.5 years in Federal prison, and before that it’s not like he lived in the classy suburbs and frequented upper class shit like this. I didn’t either, but I think I was a little more prepared then him. He was so concerned about being the only black person there and felt so uncomfortable that he never even noticed how I had bought a new dress or straightened my hair, or any of the things about me that night.

So, I tried to make him feel at ease, stopping for food for him, even though it was going to make us late, which is a HUGE pet peeve of mine. Giving him a hand job during the performance. Making sure he had a couple drinks to relax, even though it was against his parole (not my problem). Then after the Opera, we went for pizza, and messed around outside the pizza joint before he had to head home. And that was my night. To be honest it was fun, even when he was swearing during the Opera and everyone was looking. 😉

Anyways, it was a weird enjoyable but stressful night that resulted in us deciding that we work better as just platonic friends.

So we were just friends. And somewhere during this time, I made an awful mistake and introduced K to my kids. I will always regret this, not because he treated them poorly, but because my kids love him, and I know how much it will hurt them when he’s done his parole and heads back home. He’s really good with them, and they have so much fun with him, that it hurts me to think about the pain they will go through when he leaves. They have no role model in their dad, and I’m not saying K is a great role model in the things he’s done in his past, but he spends time with them and makes them feel special when he’s around, which is more then their father has ever done. Little E wants to call K constantly, and I have to always make excuses about “K is working or busy” And Z is learning about family and always includes K in her list of family. Plus now recently she’s been making a list of who she wants to invite to her 4th birthday party. Yep you guessed it, K made it on the top of the list. Front and center.  I’ve tried talking to K about cutting off this friendship entirely (Something I’ve tried a couple times) to avoid the kids any deeper pain, but he keeps convincing me it’s better to have it for now then nothing at all or something like that. I dunno…

Either way, sometime in Feb/March 2017, our whole platonic friendship plan was thrown out the window again. He came over to watch a movie… and a drink or two was involved, and then clothes were off. Which led to whole emotional (on my part) conversations, and me feeling ridiculous. Because the reason he wanted to be just friends in the first place was because he didn’t feel like he was in a good place for a relationship now. But felt good enough to get back together with an old girlfriend for a few weeks while we were platonic. It just brought back all the old feelings of “I’m not good enough” again.

Like seriously what the fuck is so wrong with me that I’m undateable? Whatever.

The whole reason I started this particular post though, was because last night, K called. He said he can’t read my blog anymore. K is the only one in my life I have told about my blog and who knows me personally that reads it. Because we’ve been through enough together, and on my part I just tell him like it is, and he knows most of the junk in my life anyways… He tells me some of the stuff in his life but I also know he keeps a shit ton of it away from me just to protect me from the crap.

Now, apparently, my life is to crappy for him to read. He once told me he would be there for me no matter what, even when he goes back home next year when his parole is over. But now, he can’t even be supportive over the fucking internet let alone from back home. It’s like what am I supposed to say to that? Sorry my shitty life is to difficult for you to READ? Try living it?

I have always been there to support K, even when I didn’t want to. Even when he went through messed up junk I didn’t want to take part in. Because I thought that’s what friends did. I supported him even when he told me about why he went to prison, or even things he didn’t go to prison for. I was there for him during his search to get a job, and his struggles to adjust to life outside prison. I was there for him when he broke up with his girlfriend (although I told him honestly that it was hard for me to be objective in that circumstance because I was glad they broke up). I was there for him when he knew he was going to fail a piss test and thought he was going to get sent back to max for breaking parole. I watched him sleep on my couch for almost an hour to make sure he was still breathing after he had drank bleach to try and alter the urine sample to hide meth from showing up on a urine test (on the stupid advice of some other chick). All the while thoughts going through my head about what if he dies on my lap. Even simple stuff like going out to buy cables and driving over to boost his car. I’ve tried my best to be a good friend.

But no, he can’t read a post every once in a while. Among many other things I’ve realized. Like cancelling on important work banquets he promised (actually promised) to come to. Or agreeing to go to the shooting range only to bail out once he found out other friends would be there. Or May 19… It’s like being seen in public with me is to difficult for him.

Fine, I don’t want to ask to much of one man. But I thought if anyone could somewhat understand a life with as much pain as mine, it would be K.

Wrong again.

We may be kindred spirits so to say, but we are not on the same level.


-Our Lady Peace/Innocent-

 

 

 

I Don’t Ever Wanna Feel Like I Did That Day, Take Me To The Place I Love, Take Me All The Way

When I was 19, my body was used for the first time in ways that changed me forever.

I was really good friends with this one couple, A and M.  We worked together, we went out dancing every weekend together. I was even planning on moving in with A in a few weeks because she wanted a break from living with her boyfriend M for now ( I know, who moves in and than out of their boyfriends house? Whatever, she was my friend and I need a new roomie). So when A went out of town to Big Valley, M joined my boyfriend W and I on Friday night at our go to club and it was dancing like normal. At the end of the night I drove my boyfriend home and then took M to his and A’s place. I had previously planned to spend the night there since we both had a work meeting early the next morning that I was going to drive us too.

They lived on the ground floor of an apartment building so when we walked up to the patio doors, his neighbors were out having drinks with the music blaring. We said our hi’s and headed on inside. M poured drinks for us and turned something on the tv, I can’t remember what. I just remember sitting on the couch having my first drink of the night, it was about 1 in the morning, and thinking I have to be at work at 8:30 and how much it sucks, and also how loud the neighbors music was that I could barely hear myself think.

And then outta nowhere, M leaned over and kissed me. Wooh, no! Oh common C, just a little bit, I’ve been wanting this for so long. Why do you think A is moving out? We’re not doing good. She knows I love you.

WHATTT?

Ummm… No! I have a boyfriend and we’re doing just fine thank you very much. I’m truly sorry things aren’t working out for you guys but I’m not interested. I should leave. I went to stand up to go and that’s when my life changed. M grabbed me from behind and threw me on the floor before I even knew what he was doing. That’s when I started screaming. And hitting and biting and kicking… anything I could do to try and stop this. But M was bigger. And stronger. And a man who should’ve known better. He was on top of me straddling me in no time. Telling me he loved me, and that it was ok. Trying to kiss me. I kept screaming, but the music from next door was drowning out my calls for help. He dragged me by my elbow and hair down the hall to the spare room, where he literally picked me up like a rag doll, threw me on the bed and locked the door. He ripped my pants off and shoved his fingers in my vagina, talking about how much he loved me, and needed me. I’m frantically screaming and pushing away. He kept trying to kiss me until I threw up on the bed and he didn’t care. He just took his dick and shoved it in me. Over and over while I kicked and screamed and cried.

I had things inside my body that I didn’t want. I was used as a toy and degraded. I was humiliated and felt defeated. I had only had sex with one other man, my current boyfriend W before this, and I felt like I had betrayed him. I wanted someone to rush in and save me. I wanted time to stop. I wanted to die.

But instead he finished, and rolled over and slept. I managed to move off the other side of the bed to the floor. I was covered in vomit, blood, tears, snot, and semen. And I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t even cry anymore. All I could do was listen to the music from next door and the stupid sound of the caged mice on the desk. They were like me. Locked in a room. Running on their wheel. We both just wanted to get away. All night. Those mice were the only witnesses to what had happened, and to this day, seeing a mouse brings back every evil moment of that night. To the point I bought a snake so I could feed it live mice every week just to watch them die. Morbid? Yep. Helpful? Very.

I finally got my act together and snuck out about an hour or so later and drove straight to my boyfriend W’s place, where I told him what happened. He handled it so amazingly. He helped me shower and get into bed. He called work the next morning informing them I was unable to attend due to a family emergency. He offered advice, but never told me what I should do. He came with me to the clinic to get tested for all those wonderful STI’s. And he held me. He just held me. I never cried about it after the fact, and W understood that. But he still knew that I wanted to be held and feel safe. And he always did that for me. He never got mad when I said I didn’t want to press charges. I told him I didn’t want to have to be dealing with M or the whole situation for however many months/years to come, considering we worked together and everyone knew us both at work. I basically just wanted to pretend it never happened. Denial, its what I do, that’s how I operate. And W was ok with whatever I wanted. He recommended certain things that were best for me for sure. But never pushed me into something I wasn’t comfortable with.

Unlike some “men” who think if they say “I love you” then they can fuck you no matter what.


-Red Hot Chili Peppers/Under the Bridge-