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....!
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
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...
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...
Saturday, September 13, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, September 12, 2008
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.
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.
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