crap

When people say "life ain't easy", they weren't fucking around. Really, this is not a post just anyone will want to read. It is going to be long, drawn out, depressing and full of colorful, yet explicit language. Some people may wonder why I am choosing to write about something so personal and private on the world wide web, and I don't really have a good answer for that. Perhaps a part of me is putting it out there to make it more "real" to me, or maybe I am just a jackass...I don't know. I just know I need to get it all out and my family, though they NEVER turn me away, has got to be so tired of listening to my nonsense!

So, here it is...my husband wants a divorce. I am wife #2, and the mother of his three children, ages 3, 17 months and 6 months. We have been together almost 5 years, married 3 years and pretending, almost the entire time, that we had a real relationship. Truth is, we met, and 2 months later, I was pregnant. I did not put any pressure on him to stay with me, in fact, I told him he could walk away free and clear and I would raise the baby by myself. He wanted to stay.

It was obvious about a month or so after I got pregnant, that our relationship wasn't going to be one of fairy tales and romance. We are basically polar opposites. We have separated many times, the first time I was about 8 months pregnant with G. I want to say that if I were smart, I wouldn't have gone back to him at all, but then I wouldn't have little G or E, and I wouldn't trade any of my children for the world. I think I left him 4 or 5 times, and each time I returned home after him telling me he was going to stop lying, or hiding things from me, help more with the kids, stop the verbal abuse, respect me, etc. Every time he promised these things, I was advised from many people that things would probably stay the same, yet I would go back anyway. And sure as the sun rises every morning, he never changed. Things would be okay for a week or two, and then right back to the same old shit.

The last time I left was June 2006. I caught him talking to his ex fiancee, and when I confronted him about it, he made up some lame excuse I didn't fall for. So I called her myself to find out what was going on. I will remember the night as long as I live, I was standing out front of our home with a heavy heart, trying to figure out what was going on, and he came outside, knowing I was on the phone with her, and called me a psycho. He purposely put me down in front of his ex fiancee. I packed my things and left that night.

We were separated for a month or so and then he started with the promises. Obviously, I ended up going back, and a day after returning home I found out he had been talking to her the entire time we were apart. I mean hours and hours of talking, every night. Her number is long distance, and when I saw that the phone bill was missing a page, he lied and said they "must have forgotten it." The next day, I pulled the bill up on line and saw what I had feared all along. He promised he would never talk to her again, he was so sorry, blah, blah. My anxiety was through the roof and I was hurt and angry, but I tried to move forward. A week later, while he was out at a class on a Saturday morning, the credit card bill came in the mail. When I opened that, I saw that not only did he send the ex fiancee two hundred dollar flowers, the DAY AFTER I left, but he also took my little girl an hour away to meet and have lunch with this women. Less than a week after I left him for disrespecting me in front of his ex, he took my child, behind my back to meet her. I felt sick to my stomach. It was the 4th of July, I was supposed to go to work that day...I had to call out because I wasn't able to function properly.

I confronted him, he talked his way out of it. He was so sorry, he loved me, he wanted to be with me, he would do anything to show that to me. I was so confused and hurt and scared and angry, I didn't know what the hell to do. He promised me that was the end, yet, even after finding this stuff out, I caught him talking to her again. He said he "felt bad" for her that he "used" her while I was gone and he didn't want to just blow her off. Finally, I made him call, in front of me, and tell her he would be cutting off all communication with her.

I tried to keep moving forward, but I was a mess inside. I had constant panic attacks, wasn't eating and was exercising like an addict to keep my anxiety manageable. I lost about 40 pounds, and had sex, literally, once or twice...and I got pregnant. I knew in my heart I should have left him, I knew it was a mistake to stay. He was a liar, a cheat and wasn't going to change. But then I was pregnant, and between the stress I had been under and the pregnancy hormones flooding my system, I had a meltdown. You can read more about that in my post about E's Christening.

Once I worked through the meltdown I had, I decided I would stick it out through the pregnancy, and then move on after the baby was born if things didn't improve. He was not supportive through my pregnancy and nothing changed in our relationship. In the meantime, his spending habits were really catching up with us. I begged and pleaded with him to stop with all the spending. He is very materialistic and has to be up there with "The Joneses" He traded his car in every few months, literally, and rolled negative equity into each new vehicle he got. It got so bad, that at one point he owed $60,000 in car loans. His credit card bills were through the roof, but he wouldn't stop spending. He has about 10-12 watches, Movado, at around a thousand a piece. He pays $200 a month for his hair piece, he has to have new clothes and shoes and expensive cigars. He put our family in jeopardy, and ruined his credit.

I planned to leave once little G was about 6 months old, but that didn't exactly work out as planned. I am not making this up, we had sex ONE time in over a year, and I ended up pregnant with E. Little G was just 2 months old, and I was pregnant again. Now, anyone who knows me well, can vouch for the fact that "intimacy" was a huge problem in our relationship. He has the drive of a 95 year old women that died five years ago. Seriously.

Anyway, I couldn't really up and go with a 2 year old, a newborn and another baby on the way...so I stayed. Nothing changed. I caught him having conversations with a girl he works with late at night. He claims it was innocent, that she is the girlfriend of another guy in the office, and he just talked to her to vent. Whatever, I don't believe him anyway. E was born in March, after struggling for a couple months with high blood pressure, bed rest and absolutely NO support from him. I remember one evening when I was supposed to be on bed rest, his mother was over to help him with the kids. He wanted to order a pizza for dinner, and I told him there was frozen pizza in the freezer, it is cheaper and to just make that instead. He wasn't very happy about that, and mumbled all the way down the stairs about how controlling I am. I swear, he came upstairs 20 minutes later, demanding that I get out of bed to come look at the pizza to see if it was done or not. I was baffled, and kinda thought he was joking. He wasn't. I asked him if he cooked it according to the directions, he said yes. I said "then it's done." He still continued to harp on me about going to check it. I asked if the cheese was melted, he said he thinks so. I said it was done, just go eat it. He still gave me a hard time. Finally I told him that there was a serious fucking problem if neither he nor his mother could figure out if a frozen fucking pizza was cooked, and if they had doubts, ask G, you know, the 3 year old...I am sure she could figure it out.

So, here we are now. He is insisting on a divorce, he wants to go get an apartment and move on. I am torn. Deep down inside, I know that is the best thing for everyone involved, given that he isn't capable of changing. It is sad that he wasn't able to stop lying to me, being verbally abusive, hiding money from me when we are struggling a bit financially right now. I am not claiming to be innocent, because I do fight back, and I can be a cruel, cold hearted bitch. I know what buttons to push, and I will cut you like a knife if I need to. We have both said some horrible, hurtful things...things that will never be forgotten.

At the same time, I am sad and scared. I have 3 small children, and he wants to leave...what do I do? I am a nurse, and capable of making a decent living, but what do I do with the kids? Not only would it break my heart to have to put the two little ones in daycare (G is a little older and loves being with other kids) but how could I afford it? He went out this afternoon to look at apartments, while I am at home with my 3 children, trying to clean and get prepared for my babies christening tomorrow. How can he just walk away without worrying what I will do to make it? Yeah, I know, there is child support...but my God, I struggle with the kids now, I am terrified about being on my own, working full time and then coming home to be a single mother of three small kids. Meanwhile, he will be out living the good single life. How is that fair? Not that I would want him to have custody of my children, if this is what he wants, then he can be a weekend dad and go fuck himself...but it still kills me inside to know that he would rather walk away, at this point in time, than to stick it out, really try to improve, seek therapy...something. I forgot to mention, we have seen 4 different marriage counselors, starting when I was pregnant with G...none of them did us any good.

So, is it the change I am afraid of? I know it is going to be hard and I am scared to be a single mom. I am scared to face the dating scene again, someday. (Not that dating is going to be an option for some time, but still, just sayin.) Where will I live? I certainly can't stay here, in the home I brought all three of my children home from the hospital to. The house I put my blood, sweat and tears into making a home. How do I leave the kid's rooms that I so thoughtfully, and with love, painted, decorated and felt proud to have done all that work for each one of them? I cannot afford to stay here, no matter how many hours I worked...and that rips me apart. This is my home. This is where my children play, eat and sleep. This is where we live, and he is taking all that away from us. He made that decision, how is that fair?

It is after midnight, and I am having a houseful of people tomorrow after E's baptism. I don't want to see his family. He has taken our personal business and spewed it all to his mother, and she gossips like a teenager in the school bathroom...meaning everyone knows at this point. And, unlike my family who can step back and see that both of us have faults, his family tends to think I am the enemy. This is all my fault. We don't have financial problems because R spends too much, it is because I don't work. Well, forgive me for being a dipshit, but remember those three kids I am raising? We have a horrible romantic relationship, but, "his father was the same way"...oh, right...that makes it all better then. Fuck, why am I even trying to explain any of this? It is what it is, and will be what it will be. I cannot change him, I cannot change the situation. He wants to leave, and I am hot and cold about it. Although our relationship sucks, it has still been my life for half a decade and change is scary. Imagining my children with another women in their lives makes me want to burst into tears. I don't want to share holiday's, I don't want to argue over who gets to claim who on the tax returns, I don't want to have to worry about the safety of my kids when they aren't with me, I don't want my baby to be taken away for overnight visits with a father she hardly knows.

I just want more time. I knew it would come to this at some point, I just thought I had more time. But I don't. I am going to get divorced, become a statistic and struggle for a long time to put the pieces back together. If you made it this far, thanks for reading and keep your fingers crossed for me.

Well, color me stupid!

I am a nurse. I went to college and graduated, top of my class, with a 4.0 GPA. I was class valedictorian. I am an excellent nurse. I have saved people's lives and held the hands of people taking their last breath. I take great pride in my work and have received many compliments and words of appreciation, not only from patients, but from their family members as well. I have attended funerals for people I have cared for and grew to love. I have testified in court on behalf of a women, who had just died of cancer way too young, and had a family battling her only sister for the inheritence she left her. I have seen people at their best and at their worst. I have watched people loose their pride and dignity after losing the ability to care for themselves in the most personal of ways. I have watched people cry over their lost independence and struggle with their new circumstances. I love being a nurse and I am proud of what I do.

I also have three children, and to put them in daycare for me to work outside of the home would be pointless. It would cost a fortune and be close to a wash for our kids to be raised by strangers. My husband makes a good living and I am blessed to be able to stay home with my kids. Husband would rather I go out to work.

When he got home from work tonight, I had already fed the kids, but they all needed baths before bed. I give 98% of the baths in our home, always have. Shortly after coming in from work, he went out back to smoke a cigar. Close to 7:30, I went out back and asked him to come in and help me with the baths. He made it more than clear he wasn't happy about that idea. Kid #1 and #2 take a bath together upstairs, and #3 still gets her bath in the small bathtub in the kitchen. So he asked me if I could give #3 a bath and then give #2 a bath in #3's baby tub. I said no, she is too big and she likes to play with #1 in the bath. Again, he made it clear he less than thrilled about this.

When he came inside, I was giving #3 her bath and he asked me where the towels were for #1 and 2. I told him I had some in the wash and that I wasn't sure, he would have to look upstairs for some. He said he wasn't going to look upstair, for me to just tell him exactly where they are or he wasn't going to give any baths at all. I said "yeah, gof forbid you have to give your own kids a bath." And he said back "it is part of your duty." I was dumbfounded. I asked him to repeat himself and he said "you know, it's part of the $100,000 salary the Today Show says you stay at home moms should get. You should be doing the baths and you should be able to tell me exactly where the towels are as you are also responsible for the washing." I wanted to kick him in the nuts, instead, I said nothing at all.

About a half hour ago, he asked me why I was going upstairs and what was he supposed to do with #2? I told him I was going to put #3 to bed and that #2's bottle was made and in the fridge when she was ready for it. He complained more. I told him it had been a long day, I still had things to get done and hadn't had dinner myself yet. He said to me "Neither did I, you should have had that taken care of that. Instead you only fed the kids...I didn't think it was in the job discription to do things half way."

Um, seriously...I don't know when my husband turned into a womanizing pig, but I am appalled by his comments. Now I know why Loraina Bobbet did what she did to that mans penis!

Sean...take three!

So, I sat in the waiting room with my Mom for what felt like forever waiting for the doctors to come tell us Sean was ok. It was dark out, and the hospital was empty. It seemed surreal, sitting there, fearing the worst but desperatly begging the powers that be for the best. I tried to get in touch with Sean's family, but his Mom was at a baseball game and his Dad was at the shore. Finally, the doctors came out and told us that things went well and he was doing ok. He said I could see him in a little while, once he was awake. I remember his Mom finally getting to the hospital right about the time we were able to go see him. It was late, maybe 10 or 11 at night, and I wanted nothing more than to just sit by his bedside and hold his hand until he was all better. My Mom went home after popping in to see him. I assumed his Mom would be staying the night, but after about 45 minutes, they (her and her husband) were heading on home! They tried to convince me to go with them and come back in the morning and it made me want to cry. How could any mother leave their child lying in an ICU, just hours after having major surgery and remains in critical condition? I politely declined their offer to go home with them, I wasn't leaving him...no way, not for a second. At one point, the nurses made me leave his bedside...I fell asleep on a chair in the waiting room and spent the rest of the night there.

There was a lot of "drama" that happened while he was in the hospital. I guess he spent about 3 weeks there, and it was a long, painful recovery. I remember the tears in his eyes when they made him get out of the bed to do physical therapy. The pain so bad even the morphine wasn't helping him. His father never liked me. He was (is?) an alcoholic, a womanizer and an asshole. There were times, before this incident, we would be having dinner at his father's house and for no reason, his father would start talking about how Sean wasn't going to spend his life with me, how he was going to get hookers for them while they went away on weekend fishing trips, how I was just a girl he was passing his time with. I remember leaving the table many time, crying and in shock. Sean wasn't very good at standing up to his Dad, and we fought a lot about his inability to say no to him, when he was so good at saying it to me.

His brother was another problem. He hated the fact that Sean moved out with me. He had been living with his brother prior to us moving in together, and I "stole" him away. So, I spent day in and day out at that hospital with him. I made sure he had everything he needed and felt safe and comfortable and loved. Yet, when it came time to talk discharge and the care he would need while recovering at home, he decided to go stay with his Mom rather than come back with me. Why?...well, because his Mom asked him to, and he wouldn't dare tell her no!

So, they set up a bed in the dining room of her home and he moved in there to recover. I still spent every moment I could with him. Sometimes I stayed the night with him, mind you we had been together 4 years at this point and had lived together for over 2 of those four years! Anyway, while his Mom was always kind to me, his father continued to cause drama. He would invite Sean out to lunch, but make it clear that I wasn't welcome. And Sean wouldn't say a word about it, he would just go to lunch to please his father.

He recovered and went back to live with his brother (which is where he was living before the accident) and we continued to be together. He would stay many nights at my house and we were talking about moving back in together. But the family drama and the constant struggle of powere between me and his father and brother was just too much. We ended up splitting again around November 2000. A few days before Christmas that same year, a ring Sean had gotten me for "being there for him while he was in the hospital" had broken. The prong broke and the stone fell out. I had the stone and wanted to get it fixed, so I called him to ask if he had the receipt. He did, and said he would bring it over.

He came over and we acted like shy, love struck teenagers! We were giddy and akward and ended up getting back together. Things were good for a while. I was starting nursing school in February and the second anniversary of my brothers death was rapidly approaching. His father wanted him to go on some fishing trip to Florida for a week, and one of the days he would be gone was the court date that was scheduled for the trial for the man the killed my brother. I begged and pleaded with him not to go away...I needed him with me. He hadn't come to any other court hearings with me, and I didn't pressure him to, but this one was big...and I really needed him to support me. Of course this pissed his Dad off, but Sean ended up finding a way to still go on the trip and shut me up as well. He booked himself an earlier flight home in time to be in court with me. I was still disapointed that he was going, but whatever, at least he would be there.

On the second anniversary of my brothers death, Sean and I were going out for dinner and drinks with friends. We went to Ruby Tuesdays, and I got smashed. I am talking drunk, drunk! We got back to my house and had sex, and at some point either during or after having sex, we started fighting. I was angry because we had been together so long and he still hadn't asked me to marry him, I wanted to have children, blah, blah. While there was much truth behind what I was saying, it was very obviously the wrong time and place to be discussing these things! He kept asking me to stop, but I wouldn't let up. He eventually got mad and went downstairs. I passed out.

I woke in the morning to find him down on the couch. I felt like hell and apologized up and down for what had happened. He was angry, very angry. We fought and were getting no where with the fighting. He said he was leaving, and I told him if he left not to come back. He turned and walked out the door...and I never saw him or heard from him again.

I remember going to my Dad's for some type of get together later that night and everyone asked where Sean was. I told them we had a fight, but I was sure it would blow over and we would be fine tomorrow. But that tomorrow never came. He left flowers at my brother's grave site on his birthday a few months later, and then again on his anniversary the following year. And then that stopped too.

I miss him and think of him often. I was in such a bad place in my life after losing my brother. I had no idea what to do with my grief and was looking for someone to fix me. Instead, I further damaged a relationship that was having troubles of its own before my grief hit. I wonder how he is doing now, if he is married, has kids. I wonder what things would be like if we were still together. I wonder what would happen if I were to run in to him. I hope that someday I get that chance, if for no other reason, at least for closure. He is a part of my heart that is still open...a part of me will always love that Sean!

My own hell

I honestly feel like I am trapped in hell! I am so unhappy with my life, my married life, that is, but I feel so helpless. It has been a horrible few days. Thursday, I realized my husband has been hiding money. He canceled his direct deposit a few months back, and claimed it was because they were charging him too much money to use it. I told him that was ridiculous, and that I needed the direct deposit because of the way the bills are scheduled online. I asked him to have it restarted, and he said he would. Weeks went by and it still wasn't there.

When we went on vacation the end of August, he gave my 400 dollars a few days before we were to leave and told me he got it from doing a project for his old boss. I thought it sounded a little odd, but didn't think too much about it. I guess I should mention, my husband has a compulsive spending problem. He makes a good living, but he spends way too much money. He buys expensive watches (a lot of them), traded in cars every couple months ending up with more and more negative equity that was being rolled into each new car he got. He was always buying new clothes or shoes, justifying the purchases beacuse they were on sale. I warned him for a long time about his spending. I begged and pleaded with him to stop. He had about 15 different credit cards, and at one point, he ended up with 60,000 in credit card debt, and 40,000 in car loans. (I forgot to mention, two cars he bought out right without even discussing it with me first, one the night before our wedding and another a few days before my birthday. Both were Mustangs and both ended up being sold a few months after he bought them for less than what he paid for them.)

Anyway, he ended up having to file bankruptsy late last year. He blamed me. He says that he was always able to buy whatever he wanted before he was with me, and never had trouble with debt. I point out to him over and over again that he was single, living in a small home with an 800 dollar mortgage as opposed to a 2400 dollar mortgage and didn't have 3 children to support. He doesn't get it and still thinks it is all my fault. Mind you, I am one of the least materialistic people you can ever meet. I don't have much of value, wear a 30 dollar watch and only have 3 pair of shoes!

So, on Thursday, when I discovered four hundred dollars in his wallet, I knew something was going on. His direct deposit, two months later, has still not been restarted. He kept blaming the company, but now I know he was purposely holding it back. I am not sure what he was doing with whatever extra money he was getting, actually, I don't know that I want to know. What I do know is we struggle every month to pay all our bills and buy everything else we need, and he is with holding money from us. What a hell of a good guy he is.

So we have really been fighting the last few days. Today, he is adament about wanting a divorce. I don't want to be married to him, but I cannot leave my kids with him and feel safe for any length of time. Some may feel that is an excuse, but honestly, he is dangerous. He is selfish, careless and doesn't think ahead. His mother, who is ALWAYS around and would definitely be there 24/7 when he had the kids, is even more dangerous. I caught her feeding peanut butter, off her dirty fingers, to my 8 month old. I have asked her so many times not to do or give something to the kids, and she does it behind my back anyway. I have caught her stealing from my home, lying to our faces and putting my children in danger...and I am supposed to feel ok with my kids (all 3 and under) in her care?

My husband takes medicine for high cholesterol and antidepressant. There have been about 25 occassions that I have either picked a pill he dropped up off the floor or have caught my 3 year old carrying one around. That scares the hell out of me. What if one of the kids swallowed one? How can I risk their well being just because I am miserable in my marriage? I just feel I need to wait until they are a little older before I can safely leave them in his care. Even if it is only every other weekend and a day or two a week.

I hurt inside. I so badly long for the right person, for the right relationship. I want to be happy again, I want to feel like I am enjoying my life. Right now, I feel like a shell of a person going through the motions. Of course I have my kids, and I love them more than you could ever know, but there is something missing. I guess it isn't even the relationship part that is missing. I would be happier living alone, without the fighting, the name calling, the lying, the anger. The kids would be happier, I would be happier and could finally start to enjoy things again.

For the entire 5 years we have been together, sex has been a huge issue. He has major issues and promises to get help, but doesn't. I know we have 3 children, close in age, and most people would assume we have a healthy, active sexual life. In all honesty, I think we have had sex less than 30 times TOTAL in our entire relationship. He makes up excuses why he doesn't want to have sex. We fight too much, I gained too much weight, I am pregnant, he has a headache, too much stress in his life, etc. He says he will fix the problem, and doesn't. Then, on top of being turned down time after time, he masterbates in his socks and leaves them lying on the floor for me to pick up and wash. This has been going on for FIVE long years. He has gotten smarter over the years, he hides them now. But I still find them, shoved behind the clothes in a drawer, tucked into the bottom of the trash can, in the back of the closet, etc. And what I don't find, the dog sometimes does. It is sickening, and hurtful and has done a lot of damage to my heart and soul, not to mention my ego.

I am an intimate person. I like to be close, not just sexually, and I have been deprived of that for so long. I hate him for what he has done to me. And I hate myself sometimes for letting him. I know I cannot act like a victim when I choose to stay here under these conditions. I just don't know what else to do. If I felt just a little bit comfortable with him taking the kids, the younger two are my main concern as they are only 17 months and 5 months, it wouldn't be an issue. I would have moved on by now. My plan, after getting pregnant with my second child, was to have the baby and then leave him. My pregnancy was horrible, especially the beginning when I literally suffered a nervous breakdown because of his cheating, his lies and the death of a family member that I had never dealt with. He is not involved in my pregnancies and he is not supportive of a pregnant persons needs either. We fought pretty much the entire 9 months, and then my beautiful little girl was born.

We hadn't had sex since the time I conceived the baby, so about 5 weeks after she was born, I was feeling pretty frustrated sexually. For some reason, he didn't shoot me down when I asked, and that's all it took. I was pregnant again. That pretty much put a damper on my plans to leave him. And so we suffered through another 9 months, and when my second daughter was just barely 11 months old, our third child was born. She is now 5 months old.

I have a headache thinking about all of this. I hate it, I hate it so much. I hate that I am not able to work because daycare would cost pretty much what I would make. Without being able to go out and work, I cannot save any money to get a plan together to leave. I don't know where I would go with 3 kids or how I would handle it all on my own. It is scary. And how would I work then? There is so much to think about. Most days, I wish he would just leave me. He says he doesn't want to be married, so why doesn't he just get up and go?

I am going to stop thinking about this now. I will pick up where I left off with Sean next time. He is MUCH more peasurable to think about! Should have stuck with him!

Back to Sean

Our relationship continued to blossom. He was shy, I am outgoing and we created a nice balance together. We had fun and he made me feel all "gooey" inside! He had a good job, lived in his own place and had himself together, especially for a 19 year old. I fell hard for him.

Although we got along well and spent much time together, it was tough getting him to really commit to me at first. He just seemed reserved, scared almost. He fought moving forward to the next level of the relationship. Several months after we started dating, my sister was getting married and having s destination wedding. I asked him to come along with me, and he was hesitant. You could tell he wanted to go, and he did end up going, but he was nervous about taking big steps.

So after we had been together about a year, we decided to get our own place together. I had just turned 21 and he was 20. We found a great deal on a nice little townhome that we rented from someone we knew. Our relationship had officially gone to the next level. Things were good! We were having fun, and we were happy. After a year or so, we started to have some problems. Mainly money problems. He made good money and had a good job working in heating and air conditioning. He was a hard worker and took pride in what he did, he also liked to have nice things. I, on the other hand, was a bit of a slacker! I worked, jumping from job to job and most months I wasn't able to pay the bills I was responsible for. Of course hindsight is always 20/20! If only I knew then...

He would get upset with me and it would cause arguements. And after this pattern continued for well over 6 months, it was really affecting our relationship. In October of 1998, my father got a rare disease called Gullian Barre, and was paralyzed completely, on a ventilator and bedridden in the ICU for 28 days. It was a horrible, scary time and no one knew what to expect. One day my Dad was healthy and playing golf, and the next morning he had a hard time standing. He went to the hospital and by the end of the night, he was unable to breathe on his own. Although he made a full recovery, Sean wasn't much support while going through the process. We didn't know how things would turn out with my Dad and we were all afraid. I needed him to be there for me, and he wasn't. By Thanksgiving, my Dad was home and thnkfully made a full recovery.

I remember sitting down in our living room with Sean one morning, it was February of 1999. I told him that I thought it would be best if he moved out for a while. I thought we needed a break and some time apart may do us good. I looked up at him, and saw tears in his eyes. I hurt him, me asking him to go hurt him enough to make him cry. I had never seen that kind of emotion in him before. He promised me we would work on making things better together, and asked me to give it a month before we made any final decisions. I agreed.

A couple weeks later, my brother was killed in a car accident. My entire world shattered, and Sean and our problems were the least of my concerns. In fact, aside from the initial days and weeks following my brothers death, Sean was actually rather distant. I don't think he knew what to do or say. He basically avoided the subject when he could. Again, hindsight being 20/20...my God, we were only kids ourselves. I was just turning 23 he was not even 22 yet and here we were facing the death of my brother (who was 2 years younger than me and my best friend in the world) together.

His distance pushed me further away. I began staying up all night long, making friends on the internet and drinking way too much. In June of 1999, I met a very dear friend online, Justin. Justin lived 18 hours away from me, but saved me in so many ways. We began an on line friendship that gave me hope. He helped me through the darkest time I had ever experienced in life, he became my support person. I fell in love with a man I didn't even know. Meanwhile, my relationship with Sean continued to suffer. And a little over a year after my brother died, he moved out.

Sean had always wanted to get a mototcycle, I hated them and begged him not to. A week after moving out, he bought himself one. I was angry, and scared. We went a couple weeks without really speaking, but then started we started seeing each other again. One Friday evening, he was coming over for the night. It was just a little after dinner time on a summer day. He was riding his motorcycle over. The phone rang and I answered to a paramedic calling to tell me Sean had been in an accident. She assured me he was ok, and told me they were taking him to a trauma center to be seen. She put him on the phone, and he told me he was ok. He said his knee hurt, but other than that, he was fine. I was still in a panic. I called a friend who lived across the street and asked her to please come over quickly to ride out there with me. I called my family on the way.

By the time I arrived at the hospital, I was informed that they were prepping him for surgery. I couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening, I had just lost my brother and Sean told me he was fine, just banged his knee. We were told to go sit in this room (not a waiting room) and someone would be in to speak with us. Those were the longest minutes of my life. Finally, a doctor came in, carrying a bag of clothes, his jacket and motorcycle helmet. I thought for sure he was gone. The doctor told me that he was in very serious condition. He had injured his liver, kidney spleen. He had internal bleeding, a damaged portion of his bowel and severe burns on parts of his body from sliding across the pavement. He said it would be ok for me to walk back and see him quickly before they took him in for surgery.

I remember walking back into that cold room, seeing him lying there on that stretcher. He was pale, there was fear in his eyes and I could tell he just wanted to cry while someone held him tight and told him he would be ok. I kissed him, told him I loved him...and they wheeled him away.

Feeling lost, and trapped

It has been a bad day, a bad week, a bad month. Today, I feel like crying. I just want to throw the towel in and give up, I cannot keep living this way. The problem is, how do you move on in a situation like mine?

I have left my husband many times over the years we have been together. The first time I left, I was 8 months pregnant and had only moved into our new home a month earlier. We had a horrible arguement, it just continued on and on. It was well past midnight, but I could not take anymore...so, not knowing where I would go, I went anyway. I remember driving to work, I was supposed to work in the morning and thought maybe I could just stay there. I was restless, yet so tired. I felt like running out of my own body. I ended up leaving work and staying on my dads couch, he was out of town. I went to work the next morning, exhausted, confused and pretty damn sure I didn't want to be with this guy. Yes, he is the father of my child(ren), but does that mean I need to be in a relationship with him?

Things got ugly in the following days. I ended up moving all my things out of the house, putting them in storage and moving in with my sister and her husband. He tortured me, threatened to put my cats outside if I didn't do this or that. I finally had to go and get them and take them to my sisters making 4 cats and me crammed into a small bedroom. It was sad, and I was scared.

After a month or so, I decided to go back to him. The baby was coming soon and he said he would work on changing. My family didn't want me to go, they warned me against it, but I went anyway...I was sure things would be different. He said they would be.

They weren't. I left him again when my oldest daughter was about 6 months old. I went back to my sister's, this time with 5 cats and a baby. I was sure it was over this time, I had learned my lesson and wouldn't be going back to him. He wasn't going to change. He is a compulsive liar, he has a problem with spending way too much money and has major baggage as far as his family is concerned. This time, I went back after a few short weeks. Because, he promised, things were going to get better. We were even going to find a new therapist, because the first two were not the right match for us. (Please read with sarcasm I am writing with!)

My conditions for going back home were a joint bank account and a wedding date. We were already engaged, he proposed while I was in labor, but had no date set. So, I pushed for an end of summer wedding, meaning we had only a few months to plan everything. All the wedding business helped to take the focus off our relationship, I was so busy trying to put everything together. But, deep down inside I knew the problems were still there and that I had no business marrying this man. I wanted the wedding, I wanted the dress, I wanted the spot light, the big day. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with him. And more than one person warned me of the same many, many times before the wedding day came. Everyone, including myself, knew it was all wrong. Yet, we said "I do" and became husband and wife.

Nine months later, I moved out again. The fighting was non-stop and it was affecting our child. On top of that, I found out he had been talking to his ex fiancee. I heard a message she left him on his cell phone, and when I questioned him, he claimed he knew nothing about it. I called her the next day to ask her what was going on and she claimed she was calling him because she had received some paperwork in the mail from the lawsuit he had against her for not returning his engagement ring. (He took her to court and won, so there is a judgement against her for 4,000 dollars.) She said she hadn't talked to him and didn't know he was married. She didn't want any trouble, just wanted to know why this paper showed up after so much time. Later that evening, when my husband got home from work, I looked at his phone and saw her number in both the incoming and outgoing calls. I had a fit and called her, in front of him, to find out what the hell was going on. Before I could get more than a few sentences out, he was yelling in the background about me being a psycho. He called me, his wife, a psycho while I was on the phone with his ex fiancee. I hung up, packed up my little girl and went back to my sisters.

Things were nasty. He called a thousand times a day to fight with me. He wanted to know when he could see our daughter, and I wanted him to sign temporary custody papers before letting him see her. I should mention that each time I had left, he put retainers down on several of the "top" divorce attorneys in the state. He wanted to make sure I couldn't get to them. But I am psycho. So, he agreed to sign the custody papers, giving me primary custody and him having every other weekend and one day a week. He was to pick our daughter up that Sunday to visit with her, even though it wasn't suposed to be his time.

I remember him driving away with her that morning. He told me they were going to a friend's birthday party and would be back by 6. He called me a little after 5 and told me he was running a little late, but would be back soon. He brought her back, and that was that. A few days later, I just felt that something wasn't right, so after talking to him on the phone (around 10pm) I drove over there to see what he was up to. He was down in the basement, but when I checked the phone, there were numerous calls to and from "Kara" the ex fiancee. We yelled at each other some, he made up excuses and I left. I was angry and sad at the same time. I had never gone behind his back and talked with other men. It just isn't how a marriage is supposed to be.

A few weeks after that, he talked me into going back. I know, I know...at this point, everyone must be thinking "are you kidding me?" He was so convincing, and I hated living at my sister's place. It wasn't my home, I didn't have my privacy or my stuff. I was sleeping on a couch! Home I went.

The day I went back, the phone bill came in the mail. I didn't think to open it, but should have. When he came downstairs from getting changed, he brought the open phone bill with him. I noticed a page was missing, when I questioned him, he claimed they forgot it. I begged and pleaded with him to tell me the truth. I wanted to know how often he was talking to "her." He swore he only talked to her a handful of times, he had nothing to hide. The next morning, I went to my sister's to look up our phone bill online. Our computer was broken, or I would have done it myself at home. I was sickened by what I saw. About 70 calls to her number...I was in shock. I called him and confronted him, he tried to lie at first and say it must have been a mistake the phone company made. I told him not to treat me like an idiot. Finally, he admitted to speaking with her more than he told me, but swore he wasn't talking to her anymore. He had no contact with her at all, it was done.

Two days later, a Saturday morning, he was out at a class. The mail came and his credit card statement was there. I opened it and once again, felt like someone stole my breath. Not only did my husband send her flowers, 200 dollars worth two days after I went to my sister's, but that Sunday that he picked my daughter up to take her to a friends birthday party...he really took her, my little girl, to have lunch with his ex fiancee. My world crumbled. I hurt so much, more than I ever knew I could hurt. More than Paul had ever hurt me back when I was a love struck teenager. I hurt and I cried and I hurt some more. Imaginging my little girl playing and having lunch with another women just days after me leaving was unimaginable to me. How could he do something like that?

When he got home, I confronted him about it. He sweet talked me into believing that he did it because he was afraid I was going to divorce him and ask "Kara" to help me prove he was unfit as a husband and father. I am not really sure what he meant by that, but he pounded into my mind over and over. It was just easier to believe the lies than face the hurt. My family thought I was a joke at this point, I leave and go back only to leave and go back again. I felt lost and didn't know where to turn. I just kept telling myself that whatever happened was done and over with, I was home and somehow we would make things work. I was still seeing a therapist, and would talk to her about it next time I went.

A couple days later, I found out they were still talking. What else? What more could I possibly handle? I was having severe panic attacks, couldn't eat, wasn't able to sleep, had to exercise like a maniac to try to settle my nerves a little. It was awful. I made him call her, in front on me, and tell her he wouldn't be speaking to her anymore. Of course, she didn't answer, he left her a message. Still, I was obsessed with the subject. I was always checking over my shoulder, checking his phone records, his credit card bills, calling him at work and when the receptionsist asked who I was, I said "Kara" to see what he would do. He passed my tests and despite my soul still being a wreck, we moved on. I lost a good deal of weight, and he started to have a small interest in sex again. Sex, one of our biggest issues...he denied me a sexual relationship claiming everything under the sun as an excuse.

Anyway, one of the few times we had sex during that period of time, I got pregnant. And then, I had a nervous breakdown.

To be continued...

The plan...

Ok, so I ended the last post stating I had a plan to break up Ben and his new girlfriend. It took me a little searching around, but within a few days, I was able to find the guy Laurie had dated on and off for a few years! Bingo! And, he was friends with a friend of mine...the ball was rolling.

My Dad worked 12 hour shifts, sometimes day, sometimes night. My stepmother had moved out after her and my Dad seperated, so it was just me, my dad and my younger brother living at home. When my Dad worked nights, my brother and I generally had people over. I figured I would set something up to meet Sean that way. One of my friends had been talking to him and kind of hinting around to him that I was interested in meeting him, etc. I remember one night this particular friend showed up at my work all excited about how Sean was going to be at the Wawa at a certain time that night and he wanted to meet me! Oh crap, I wasn't prepared for that!

I went anyway. First of all, let me say, we used to hang out at the Wawa many nights. It was sort of a meeting point before everyone decided what to do. I am aware it may have sounded strange that we were going to be meeting for the first time at a Wawa!

So we pulled in and he wasn't there yet. We got out of the car and waiting, and about 20 minutes later, he showed up. He was wearing a sweatshirt and cut off sweatpants, made into shorts. He had just come from the gym! He was cute, now I just had to get him to think I was cute and then hopefully, my plan would work! We talked for a while, both of us a little nervous. He was definitely shy and it took some prodding to get him to open up a little. We talked a little about Ben and Laurie and how it was a small world that they were dating, and now here we were meeting for the first time. He had NO clue what I was up to!

I invited him to my house that weekend for a party, he accepted my invite. The night of the party came, he was there and we really hit it off. I felt comfortable with him and he gave me butterflies in my stomach! Uh-oh! We spent a lot of time together over the next week and a half, and then word got back to Ben and Laurie about us being together. My plan worked! They split up! I was so excited, or at least I should have been. Fact was, I didn't really care about them anymore, I was very much into Sean. So while Ben and Laurie tried their best to get us back, we stuck together and began a 4 year relationship! Who would have thought my silly little plan would have turned into a very serious relationship!?

The story continues...

So, I already mentioned I spent my senior yeat basically single. The summer after graduation, I was at my Moms and heard some commotion out back. My car was out there, so I went out to see what was going on. On of her neighbors, a guy my age, as out there with some friends. We started talking and I took notice of a cute guy he was hanging with. The cute guy and I flirted a little, and then he asked me for a ride to the Wawa so he could get some peanut butter cups. Off we went.

We exchanged numbers, he called me later that evening and from there, our relationship blossomed. His name was Ben and he made me smile. He was a year younger than me, still had a year of high school left. I was starting college in the fall, so our schedules didn't conflict much. He had a wonderful family and I can still remember being at his house on Christmas Eve, the first year we were together. His mother died when he was young, but his father remarried and they had two children. Ben had two siblings from his mom and dad and then two half siblings from his dad's new marriage. They were young at the time, like 2 and 4ish. So, on Christmas Eve, we were watching tv in the basement and after the kids went to be, his father and stepmom came downstairs to start wrapping gifts and putting things under the tree. I remember helping them wrap gifts, laughing and having a good time and then all of a sudden becoming overwhelmed with sadness. I actually started to cry, and got up and walked into Ben's bedroom. I was filled with happiness for them, but sadness for myself as I had never experienced anything like this in my own life. My parents divriced when I was 8, and I don't have any happy memories of sitting around on Christmas Eve doing happy, fun, family things.

Anyway, after Ben graduated, things got a little crazy. He wasn't taking the college route, and had a job working night shift at a gas station. I was still in college, but wasn't taking it seriously. I would hang out until late with Ben at work, then go home to get a little sleep and instead of going to school in the morning, I would pretend like I was going but instead, go to Ben's house and sleep the day away with him. Basically, I dropped out of college, but didn't tell my Dad. (But don't worry, he finds out eventually!)

Ben had a place at the beach, the same area we had our beach place while growing up, and we spent much of the summer there. My brother and some of my friends would come with us and we always had such a great time. His family had a boat we would take out, his place was right on the water and life was good!

About mid summer, Ben was still working at the gas station, but looking to get a job with a landscaper. I was introduced to a guy who was a friend of a friend, and he was cute and flirty and in the military. He and I had a "emotional" affair of sorts. I guess I was losing interest in Ben, but not enough to break up with him. So Joe (the military man) and I had plenty of super long late night phone conversations, a few nights when I lied to Ben and went to meet Joe and a few kisses. It never went any further than a crush, a couple kisses and him going back off to the war. But, it was the beginning of the end of my relationship with Ben.

He bought me a ring. A diamond ring from a Target type store, and I thought I was queen of the world...for a month or two! He just wasn't going anywhere with his life. He was content working for this landscaping company and I was putting pressure on him to move out together into our own place. Now don't get me wrong, I was no pillar of financial stability myself! I was a spoiled girl, who had dropped out of college and was still hiding it from her father! I started hanging out with some of my younger brother's friends, and found out that one of them had a cute older brother.

He and I started talking on the phone, flirting, etc. It was actually a complete bunch of nonsense as this guy thought I was someone I wasn't. Really, it is a long, complicated story and not really relavent to my life. Except for the part when ben found out about it! Now, mind you, I didn't even know this guy, never actually met him and the entire time we were "talking" I was pretending to be someone I wasn't. So, when Ben found out (my step brother told on me, by the way!) it was tough to try to explain. But I was honest and ended up telling him that I thought we needed some time apart. I broke up with him, kinda.

I wanted to be "single" but still have him sitting on the sidelines waiting for me to take him back. In less than a months time, I found out he was dating someone new. I was furious. I called him and called him and called him. I demanded to know what the hell was going on and who did he think he was dating someone new? He pretty much told me to shove it, I had broken up with him and he was moving on. He was blowing me off, and I was not happy about it at all. And so I came up with a plan...

I figured that this new girl he was with must have an old boyfriend. All I needed to do was find him, and then start dating him. This would cause her to get jealous that her ex boyfriend was dating someone new, and Ben would get jealous that I was dating someone new...and they would break up allowing he and I to get back together. Sound far fetched? I agree! Stay tuned to find out if it worked....!

Back to the future

Man I love my kids. Seriously, I love my kids more than I knew I could ever love anyone or anything in the world. I watch the older once dance and play, the younger one fall asleep while drinking a bottle and my heart melts a little. I thank my lucky stars every single day that they are in my life, happy and healthy.

I got pregnant with my first child two months after meeting my husband. 3 years ealier, I lost a baby due to an ectopic pregnancy and ended up with emergency surgery and the loss of a fallopean tube. It was a really hard thing for me to go through emotionally, and when I found out I was pregnant, though certainly not planned, I was thrilled. I have always wanted kids.

I gave my husband (my boyfriend at the time) every opportunity to bail out. I told him he could walk away and not worry about a thing. I was going to have the baby no matter what and I didn't expect anything from him, unless he wanted to be involved. He swore to me he did.

When we met, he told me he had been single for about a year and prior to that was engaged to a drunk. He told me horror stories about this women, how she stayed in bed all day and stayed up all night smoking cigarettes and indulging in bottle after bottle of wine. When they split, she took his engagement ring, his credit card and his car. He got the car back, the credit card was canceled and the ring was history. My husband is a spiteful person, very, very much so. He hired a lawyer and threatened to sue her for the cost of the ring.

When I was a couple months into my pregnancy, I was having trouble sleeping and was up late playing on the computer. I was at his house and he was upstairs in bed. I decided to nose around in his email. To my surprise, I found email after email from him, pouring his heart and soul out to her and begging her to come back to him. In all fairness, the letters stopped a few weeks before I found out I was pregnant, but still, I was looking at letters from the first two months of our relationship filled with professions of love and promises to do anything to make it work. I remember sitting there, reading them over and over again...my heart racing. I didn't know what to do. So, I did what any confused, hormonal chick does when confused...I marched my ass up the stairs, woke him up while screaming at him and demanding to know what the hell the emails were all about.

He made excuse after excuse, but basically stuck to the story that he had to pretend to want her back because he was trying to get her to give him his ring back. My husband works in sales and also has a little problem with compulsive lying...but boy, did I want to believe him. It would have been so much easier if it was true, if he weren't the lying type. Not that I can prove that what he told me was a lie, I cannot. But I do know for sure that those emails weren't the end of her. I do know that she made a few appearences in my marriage, and while I moved on past the first incident with the emails, the latter incidents sealed the deal for me.

I cannot trust him and won't ever be able to. He lied to me and hurt me beyond anything I would have ever imagined. Someday, I will get to that post. But for now, although I will say, I do not believe they actually slept together while we were married, he betrayed me, my trust and broke the vows he took before our friends and family. He ended our marriage when he made those decisions. Only we are still married. We have had two children since then. I will never, ever regret my kids...I just go to bed each night and dream of a day when I will wake up with real love in my heart. Not love for my children or my family, but love for a man that is deserving of the love I have to offer.

And so the story goes...

I spent my senior year single. Well, I dated people on and off and had my "relationship" with John, but nothing serious. I learned a good deal about myself my senior year. I gained a lot of self confidence that year. I was proud of myself for ending a relationship that was unhealthy and moving forward. I was in good shape (although I still swore I wasa fat) I was wearing size 5 clothing. I was happy.

I remember one particular occassion that really boasted my ego. The biggest party of the year was on a Friday night. Everyone and anyone was going, it was a huge deal. About mid-day that Friday, I started feeling really bad. I mean, REALLY bad. Went to see the school nurse and had a fever. Of course, I have to get a fever and feel like hell on the day the biggest party of the year is taking place. Shit.

I was sent home and remeber getting in bed feeling like hell. Everything ached, I couldn't even lift my head up off the pillow and I was freezing. Friends were calling to see how I was feeling and if I would be going to the party. I was totally bummed, why me?

Around dinner time, my step mom gave me some tylenol for my fever and I started to feel a little better. One of my friends called and said she was going to the party, but wouldn't be staying long, she was really just going to drop another friend off. I said I would go along with her since I was feeling a little better and she wouldn't be staying all night. I was decked out in bright red sweatpants, a white sweatshirt turned inside out, my hair in a ponytail and my makeup a complete disaster. But out the door I went.

Once we arrived, everyone was there...I mean everyone! I said hello to some friends and then made my way over to a group of girls that were standing in the corner pointing at a guy I didn't know. I wanted in on the gossip! I found them talking about this guy, from another school, who everyone just thought was drop dead gorgeous. I said "well why doesn't someone go talk to him?" The general reply was "no way, you do it!" Finally, I said I would go over to this good looking stranger and inform him that my friends thought he was "hot" but were not outgoing enough to come tell him themselves.

I approached him, said hello and stated my case. He listened, politely, then glanced in the direction of my friends (who were some of the most popular girls in the school) and then looked back at me and said "well, what about you?" I said "what about me?" He said "Are you single? And do you think I am good looking?" I was baffled! I replied "Um, you have got to be kidding me! I am standing here with a 102 fever, dressed in sweat clothing, hair pulled back and you are questioning my relationship status when that whole group of girls over there, who are dressed appropriately, mind you, are totally into you!?" He looked right into my eyes and said " I am not interested in them, I am interested in you." We exchanged numbers, and I had to go back to my friends and break the bad news. The hot guy was "into" me!

He called me that night and we talked for hours and hours. He became one of my very best friends. Despite him being very attractive and kind, I just wan't into him romantically. I remember him tackling me one day and kissing me and it just felt like I was kissing my brother. He never gave up thought! We had some fun times together. I remember a few nights, well passed midnight, that he had pulled up out front of my home, called me on the phone and asked me to come out and go for a ride with him. I told him I was sleeping...go away! He followed that with "I swear if you aren't out here in 5 minutes, I am going to beep the horn until your Dad wakes up!" I was out the door before the 5 minutes was up each time!

Sadly, we lost touch over the years. But he is still in the area, and what once was his small, self opporated grass cutting business, is now a multi-million dollar corporation! He is all over the place and has obviously made a wonderful living. I sometimes wonder how things would have ended up if I was attracted to him romantically. Would I be sitting on a beach somewhere right not, sipping tropical drinks out of a coconut? Someday I will see him again, but for now...he is a memory I will never forget. A memory that did so much for my confidence and for that, I will always be grateful.

Continuing the Paul saga...

So, back to Paul.

I was instantly in love, as I already mentioned. About 6 weeks after dating, I lost my virginity. I was only 15 years old, and there was NOTHING special about it. I was in the basement of my home, on the couch, with my brother's in the room. Of course, we were "hiding" under a blanket, but, looking back now it just seems so desgrading, trashy and sad.

In any case, it was the beginning of my life as a sexually active teenager. We had sex at every chance we got. We were seriously sex-o-maniacs. We would purposely walk home from the local pizza shop while everyone else drove, so we could have sex in the woods. We used to pull in this little secluded area in the back of a church parking lot, and have sex there...a lot. We would take advantage of a brand new playground they had built...we christened about every square inch of the thing. And it is pretty big! We had sex in the back of Paul's car, in any available parking lot we could find. We were seriously into the sex!

I remember confiding in my sister about needing some birth control. My parents were divorced and I lived with my dad, he wasn't exactly approachable on these types of subjects. I remember going off to Planned Parenthood with my older sister and getting me goody bag, filled with several packs of birth control pills and condoms. Oh, I was so responsible. About a year later, my father found one of those empty birth control packs in the trash can and blew a gasket! I still remember sitting on the steps that day, his face bright red with anger, and he was demanding to know where I got birth control pills. Without a second thought, I sold my poor sister out to the highest bidder. My dad was furious! So was she.

On my 16th birthday, I found out Paul was cheating on me. We went to different schools, and a friend that went to school with him confided in me about his cheating. I remember my family have cake and ice cream for me, my brother and sister were there (they are older and had already moved out of the family home.) Paul had stopped by and given me a beautiful aquamarine ring, then I confronted him about what he did. We stood outside for what felt like forever, me with a broken heart, and him trying his best to convince me it was a huge mistake and it would never happen again. I sent him away and returned to my party. I have pictures from that night, of me, sitting at the table holding my niece in front of my birthday cake. The heartbreak was evident in my expression, yet no one at the table could see it. I held my head up high until I was able to get to me room for the night, and then cried like a baby.

Paul and I split up. I was so hurt and I needed to be away from him. Within a few weeks time, I ended up having sex with a friend's brother. He as also a friend of Paul's. I remember putting myself out there, knowing exactly that I was doing this as some sort of "payback." Immediately after having sex with John, I felt sick in my stomach. And within a month of the incident, the truth came out. Paul and I were trying to work things out, and we were sitting out back on my deck. A mutual friend called my house (we had a phone out on the deck) and asked if they could talk to Paul. Little did I know, he was telling Paul about what had happened between John and me. Worse yet, my father was listening on the other end!

Paul left in a fury. He wouldn't even look at me. I went to a friends house to get away. I remember calling my dad later that evening to ask if I could spend the night, and he said no. My dad never said no, something was up. Boy, was that a horrible car ride home. He picked me up at my friends house and immediately, and uncomfortably, starting drilling me about who this boy was that I had slept with. Oh shit, it was not easy to talk my way out of that one...but I did. Well, I think my dad new the truth inside, but it was easier for him to believe the nonsense I was telling him than to think of his little girl sleeping around. We never spoke about it again after that car ride, never-ever!

The next several months got complicated. My friend, Amy, was furious after she found out I had slept with her brother. She wouldn't talk to me despite my pleadings. Our entire circle of friends was in an uproar. John wouldn't speak to me, Paul wouldn't speak to me...it was horrible. In time, things blew over a bit and started to get bac to normal. Paul and I attempted to work things out...again. John and I made up, and resumed sleeping together on occasion. Sick, I know. However, at the same time, Paul was sleeping with other people as well.

We slpit up again after about 6 months, and one night Amy and I were going to a party at another friends house. We were walking down the steps to the basement and I looked into the room and saw my other "best friend" Jane, sitting on Paul's lap. I almost threw up. She was my best friend, had been since we were 5 years old. What were they doing? I turned and ran, as fast as I could. Amy followed and no sooner did we get outside and a little down the sidewalk when the police showed up. Amy and I kept walking and weren't stopped. We walked for what felt like forever not knowing what to do, or if our friends had been taken away in police cars! There was alcohol there, of course. Eventually, we saw Paul...as his image came in more clearly, I realized he was walking with Jane, and they were holding hands. I couldn't speak. He hugged me, asked if I was alright. He offered to drive us back to Amy's house and we accepted. Paul was my boyfriend for a couple years at that point, and despite the fact that we were broken up at the time, he was still "mine" in a sense. I will never forget walking to his car, him opening the door and pushing the front seat up for me to climb in the back. He was putting her before me...he put me in the backseat and closed the door after she climbed into the front. He dropped Amy and me off first, and then drove off with Jane. My heart was broken completely.

I spent the next month alone. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep and I wanted nothing to do with anyone. My family was worried, my friends were worried and Paul was trying desperately to get me back. I swore I would never speak to Jane again, and after my step-mother found out about what happened, it was made clear Jane was not welcome in our home any longer. Paul ditched Jane after a week or so, and was begging and pleading with me to take him back. I told him to go to hell. I lost 40 pounds, in a couple months time.

John and I started our "relationship" back up again, and with a little help from him, I started to see the light of day. I started to smile again, and I was actually happy with John. And then the phone call came. Paul, calling me from the floor of his kitchen. He had cut his wrists and then called 911. He told me if he couldn't be with me, he didn't want to live at all. He was taken to the hospital, stitched up and then spent some time in a psychiatric facility. He made me feel bad, he played on my weakness and I took him back. It was nearing my senior year of high school, and I wasn't in love with him anymore. I simply felt horrible that he attempted to kill himself because of me. What a dumb little girl I was!

He got out of the hospital, had my name tattooed on his chest and tried his hardest to pretend like nothing ever happened. Meanwhile, I was desperate to be away from him and so badly wanted to be back with John. Before long we were sneaking around to be together. Not long after that, I ended things with Paul...for good.

I started out my senior year of high school in a relationship with Paul, and by November was single. Paul quickly started dating a girl from another school, but a girl we all knew. He was a year older than me and already graduated high school. Within a months time, she was pregnant. They had a little girl together, quickly followed by a hard hitting heroin addiction Paul picked up.

I believe they had two children together and she left him once he got really bad into the drugs. I ran in to him hear and there for a couple years after high school, he looked horrible. Tattooes all over his body and looked like he weighed about 82 pounds soaking wet. I don't know what happened to him. I don't know if he is even still alive today. All I know is that he and I had some of the best sex of my life, we were young, adventorous and free. We also hurt each other deeply. His cheating on me caused me to lose trust in men in general, and I still struggle with it to this day. We were hot and cold and had a love hate relationship. It was an experience, a life lesson learned for sure. I wouldn't change it if given the chance as I learned much a grew a ton throughout those years. He was my first love, the man I lost my virginity to and the first guy to break my heart.

Lastly, he was the only man to tattoo my name on his body. The only man that ever attempted suicide because of me and made it extremely hard for me to have sex with anyone else. The one thing Paul had going for him was a very much, above average, penis. I am talking close to 9 inches. Being a virgin, I thought this was normal...and when John pulled his pants down the first time we had sex, and I saw how small his was in comparrison...I thought someone was playing some kind of joke on me! I couldn't figure out where the rest of it was! And honestly, not one guy has measured up, size wise, since Paul. Not only was he good in bed, but very well endowed to boot. Proof enough for me that not all men are created equal!

More to come...

Fast Forward...

Skipping ahead to the now. I was going to continue on with the story of my first love, but will catch up with that next. Maybe!

Now, I am stuck in a loveless marriage for ALL the wrong reasons. I am afraid of divorce. Not because I am afraid to be alone, because I basically am alone anyway. I am afraid of not having my children with me all the time. They are my babies, I carried them inside of me for nine long months, I gave birth to them and I have loved and cared for them day in and day out ever since. I cannot imagine having to send them for overnight visits with a father that cannot even care for them for a couple hours while I do grocery shopping. The thought honestly frightens me.

I am afraid of another women's presense in their life. My kids are young, very young and impressionable. I have a step-mother, and I hated her growing up. She tried to be my mom, she tried to take over certain roles that she had no business being involved with. I don't want my children to go through that.

I am afraid of the financial aspect as well. Although I am a college graduated professional, I am afraid of what it would take to support 3, very small children. How would I manage to work full time? How could I afford day care for 3 kids and still make enough for us to live in a decent home and pay all the other bills out there?

I am equally afraid of what is happening to my heat and soul from staying in a marriage that should have never happened in the first place. I got married to have a wedding. I knew it was wrong, he knew it was wrong. Less than a year later, I moved out and caught him cheating. Cheating with an ex-girlfriend, no less. Despite the fact that he talked me into coming back, before I knew the full extent of his unfaithfullness, I will never truly be able to move on or completely forgive him for what he did to me. Trust is way too important, and he broke the trust we had as husband and wife.

But, here we are 2 years and 2 kids later, and still plugging away at a failed relationship. I stay, out of fear. Yet, my heart dreams of the future. A future filled with happiness, laughter and a love that is meant to be. I know, someday, we will find each other. For now, I have to finish this chapter...and then, I can begin the next.

Where to start...

Really, there is so much to say, where do I begin?

I am 32, married and have children. Aside from my children, it is all wrong. I know, I know, that sounds horrible...but it is true. From the depths of my soul, I can hear every ounce of my being scream about how wrong my "love" is.

I want the right love. I dream of it, I envy it when I see others that have it. I cry at movies that display it so poetically. I look into my daughter's eyes and hope and pray they find the right love the first time. And no, I am not talking about as teenagers, when we all go through heartbreak. I am talking about marriage, giving your heart to another person for the rest of your life. I hope they choose wisely, because the consequences of not are great.

I have been a hopeless romantic as far back as I can remember. I am a dreamer and have found much happiness with nothing more than my own imagination. I remember journaling as I was growing up, most of what I wrote was about love. I always sought after it, always had a crush on this boy or that. He was so cute, I want to marry him...blah, blah. I would fall asleep each night dreaming about my latest love and how we would spend the perfect life together.

My self confidence has always been less than stellar. I grew up thinking I was fat. Most of my life, I have been at least average, sometimes thin. Regardless, I would look in the mirror and see a fat girl looking back at me. (Thanks Dad) My self confidence issues were obvious to others, so much so that at times, other people would view me as "fat" even when I wasn't. I portrayed myself in such a way that others labeled me as I labeled myself. Very sad.

I struggled with my friends when they would date the boys I liked. It would "break my heart" and I couldn't understand why they were so lucky with love and I never seemed to be happy. I was looking for someone else to make me feel good about who I was. I wanted a boy to boost my confidence, to make me feel thin and attractive. I was all messed up.

Looking back, I can see how self destructive I was. I created my own unhappiness, my own hurt. I set myself up for failure with love. Of course, I was very young, and I don't know that a girl that age can really be "in love" anyway. But, I can tell you, I thought I was at least 100 times!

When I was 15, I met my very first serious boyfriend, Paul. He was a friend of a friend, and we began speaking on the phone. I hadn't met the guy, but I was in love with him! Oh, he was most certainly the man I was going to marry. He was my prince charming, my knight in shining armor!

I still remember the day I actually got the courage to go meet him. I was out with a few friends, and they guy driving the car just drove us to his house. I didn't know we were going there, and I was so, so scared when I found out! I can remember what I was wearing, the feeling in my stomach and the voices in my head screaming for me to turn and run the other way when the car stopped! I knew he was going to think I was a big fat girl and that would be the end of my true love.

I beat the voices in my head, and walked down the driveway with my friends, toward his door. He came outside and we looked at each other, and he smiled. I felt my heart skip a beat as the relief washed over my body. HE SMILED!! That smile was like gold to me...it meant he didn't think I was a fat girl! (Mind you, I weighed all of about 120 pounds, not at all fat!)

We began a 3 year relationship that day. A relationship filled with love and laughter. The loss of my virginity. The self discovery that I am a very sexual person with a very high sex drive. Followed by hurt, betrayal, heartbreak and despression. And finally, to picking the pieces up and putting myself back together. Learning about who I was, what I was worth and how no man was going to hold me down.

I guess that is enough for now. More detail will follow in my next post about my first love, and our relationship. How it helped me to become the person I am today. For now, I will sleep...and dream about the love that is right. The love I have yet to find, but haven't stopped looking for.