“The Secret of Healthy Relationships”


(excerpt from The Secret of Healthy Relationships on omswami.com)

… … … love other things together and don’t lose sight of the good you have. When you are able to love not just the person you love but what they love, your relationship reaches a whole new level. If what matters to them starts to mean something to you, living together becomes a great deal easier.

Loving and living together at the same time is only possible when two people care about what the other person loves.


You also need to have forgiveness in your heart. ~ Me

Let Them

I wish Loverman could have let himself be vulnerable with me.

We were so awesome together.

Please put this quote in your heart and think on it today.

There might be someone out there who wants to be able to love you and get close to you.

And it might not be so bad to let them.

The Talk

As promised, Saturday morning Loverman came over to my apartment to check on my broken-down car, Breezy, and he needed to put the catalytic converter back on my truck, Bear. (OMG! That’s twice in a row now that he has stuck to the plan! Holy shit!).

While we were waiting for the battery in Breezy to charge, I was going to sit in the cold and just wait – I didn’t really want to sit anywhere close to Loverman - but he told me not to be silly out in the cold when I could just be in his warm and running truck with him.

Electric sparks of tension bounced back and forth between us as we sat together uncomfortably, and then we started talking about our horrible, terrible, no good, very bad vacation.

For 30 minutes or so, he maintained that the entire skate debacle was my fault and that if I hadn’t “started everything off just like last year”, things would have gone well (hmmm… like they did last year???).

The battery was charged completely and I got out to start Breezy. Loverman checked to make sure that it was the alternator that had gone bad.

It was.

With the charge that was left in the battery, I moved Breezy to a better parking spot closer to my apartment, and then Loverman asked me to get back into his truck so we could continue our argument discussion. For a moment we talked about the plans for fixing Breezy, then we went back to talking about the sk8-venture from hell.

As we started to talk, he drove away from the apartment parking lot – so we could have a longer talk without getting interrupted by curious family members of mine wondering when we would be leaving to do the grocery shopping. I tried to break the tension with a joke (huge mistake!). I said, “Well, heck. If you’re kidnapping me and taking me to Mexico at least let me go back and grab my purse so we can get gas and food!”

Holy shit! He stopped so fast that the tires squealed and I thought his truck was going to flip end-over-end (and we were only going 5MPH, still in the parking lot). He pretended like he thought I was serious and acted super-offended that I thought he was going to ‘kidnap’ me. I tried to explain to him that it was only a fucking joke – we used to joke about running away to Mexico together all the time. What the fuck!?!? After another argument, he finally turned around and we continued to exit the parking lot to further our discussion from hell.

After talking to him about it in length, it seems that when I asked him for a kiss and a smack on the ass Saturday morning after our Friday night skate party, it was just too much pressure for him to handle. He simply wanted to shit, shower, shave and sleep. He still doesn’t know why I couldn’t just be happy with a couple pecks when “we had the entire weekend to spend together!”

I said, “I wish you would have told me that our vacation wasn’t going to be sexual. If I would have known that ahead of time, I never would have pressured you for sex or tried to be intimate with you.”

He responded, “I just wasn’t feeling that into it at that moment and I didn’t think I needed to. I was all gross and smelly and we had 3 days to ‘get together’. So I didn’t think we had to be all rushed about it.”

From my point of view, it seems like I had no chance at all of having a good sk8-venture with him. There was no way I could have done anything right — because, in his crazy imagination, I had already done everything wrong, before things even got started.

He didn’t even tell me the rules! (not that knowing them would have helped me at all, though)

Just as I suspected, he had set me up to fail – consciously or subconsciously, it doesn’t matter.

While we were talking, he asked me how much of a relationship is about sex to me. It didn’t take long for me to respond, “It depends on the type of relationship. The kind that I thought we had…. About 50/50, intimacy to friendship. And, intimacy isn’t just sex — I count sharing private thoughts, holding hands, kissing in public, being comfortable talking to each other, etc…”

He then clarified that “friends with benefits” means the same to him as “being in a serious relationship” does to me. He explained that my definition of intimate partners is the same as his definition of friends with benefits.

And after over 2 hours of all of that bullshit over and over again, the mother-fucker still wouldn’t take any responsibility for ruining our weekend.

I spent most of my time trying to explain to him how badly he treated me and how hard I kept trying to have a good time with him – even after he kept kicking me down.

He spent most of his time putting thoughts in my head and words in my mouth — telling me that he knew how I was going to be and what I was going to do. That’s what ruined things.

He’s completely focused on how everything went wrong with our sk8-venture 2014 because of me and (whether it’s my fault or not) he refuses to forgive me or try to get past it.

Unless I will take full responsibility for the nightmare.

He would only apologize for being late.

Remember – his tardiness is something I was never really angry about *sigh*

Like I said at the beginning of this stupid ‘adventure’: “He needs to learn forgiveness or we are done.”

Especially if it’s something I didn’t even do.

He’s already punished me for over a week.

I have been struggling with this thought for the past few days and it gets harder to deny as time passes: I think Loverman and I are done.

Until he has my vehicles up and running, he will be my mechanic. After that, I just don’t know…

Things will probably never be the same with us. From now on, I think it will always be a struggle to communicate with each other.

He is too busy holding onto demons from his past - a time before he ever even knew me.

Last Friday Night

Friday night, after work, I was on my way to get a new tattoo.

Something to help me remember what a dickhead Loverman was for our Sk8-Venture 2014.

It’s going to be a tribal art broken heart, as close to over my heart as possible.

Something a little like this...

Something a little like this, but this picture is not mine

I was so excited to get it done!

But my car broke down on my way to the tattoo shop.

You know, the car that drove us all the way to Kansas City and back last week?

First, the battery light came on.

Next the radio started turning off then back on.

Then the blower for the heater started slowing down enough to make me notice.

After that I realized that the dashboard lights were way too dim.

I was sitting at a stoplight in Friday-night rush-hour traffic and it dawned on me what was happening:

My alternator is dead and the car is running only on the battery.

I looked at the reflection of my headlights in the back of the shiny truck in front of me. They were barely lit at all and I realized that if I did not pull off the busy street immediately, I was going to be stuck in the middle of a main thoroughfare at 6PM pissing off hundreds of people trying to start their own awesome weekends.

I was halfway to my destination when I was forced to pulled over. I called the tattoo shop and texted the tattoo artist to tell them I wouldn’t be able to make it *sigh* My car broke down.

They were totally awesome about it and told me to call back and reschedule when I could.

At that point I called Loverman because he is the only person I have who can help me out when shit like this happens.

And, he’s my fucking mechanic!

The husband, Doom-n-Gloom, doesn’t have a driver’s license, so I don’t usually call him until I have things figured out — he can’t really do anything to help anyway.

Loverman didn’t answer his phone. I was disappointed, but definitely not surprised.

I texted:


I walked up and down the street a few times struggling with my emotions; trying not to freak out. It was hard, but as soon as I reminded myself that I have AAA, I was able to take a breath and began to un-hunch my tensed shoulders (which I hadn’t realized were so very tight until that point).

I spent the entire rest of the night trying to relax my shoulders. I knew that if I could relieve some of the tension I was holding there, it would release some of the tension I was feeling in my chest.

Just as I was starting to call AAA, Loverman called me.

After some uncomfortable ‘pleasantries’, I explained completely what had happened then answered all his questions. He said, “It sounds like the alternator.”

“I figured,” I responded. Then I explained to him that I was just about to call AAA to get the car towed back to my apartment because there wasn’t much anyone could do with it Friday night in the dark.

I reminded him that he was supposed to put the catalytic converter back on my truck, Bear, “as fast as he could”, also I had to remind him that I don’t want to drive my truck around anywhere without a large section of my exhaust – it’s way too loud!

Since I was going to have to drive my truck because my car was down, I really needed Loverman to help me ASAP Saturday morning.

We had a misunderstanding about when he was working a 12-hour shift and I begged him to please help me Saturday morning. He conceded, we said our good-byes and I called AAA from inside the McDonald’s on the corner.

As expected, I waited on hold and was helped eventually, but then I was told it could be up to a 300-minute wait!

Oh my god! It was freezing-ass cold outside and 300 minutes was going to put my ‘rescue’ at midnight-oh-two!!

I walked over to the door to see if I was lucky enough to be in a 24-hour McDonald’s. It was, but the inside closed at 11PM. I decided an hour waiting outside in the cold wouldn’t be so bad if I could stay somewhere inside until then, right? Probably AAA wouldn’t even take that long anyway – even the customer service rep said that.

We couldn’t have been more wrong.

On top of this all, my phone was dying and I happened to stop at the only McDonald’s in modern-day civilization without electrical outlets for customers to use. All the outlets were on the ceiling, too high for me – I would have had to ‘hang’ my phone. So, I wandered outside and found an outlet on the side of the building that I was able to use, but it was outside and it was only 15 degrees and it was dark.

While I called Doom-n-Gloom and told him everything that was going on, I stood outside waiting for my phone to recharge for a few minutes. When it got unbearable and the phone seemed to have enough ‘juice’, I went back inside and got myself a bacon chicken mcwrap and a sweet tea. Then sat down wishing I had brought a book along with me that day.

Especially after a homeless man sat in the booth next to me and struck up a conversation about horrible families and then another about women selling their bodies for sex.

Then he asked, “By the way, have you ever considered sex for money?”

I just looked at him, then I looked at the gentleman in the booth behind me hoping that he had been listening in on the conversation and was ready to help me in case I needed it.

The homeless man then said, “It wasn’t a pick-up line or anything. Jeesh!”

To which I replied, “Good! Because it was a very bad one.”

We sat at our own tables in uncomfortable silence for about 10 more minutes when he looked at me and said, “Well, I guess I’m outta here then.”

“Best of luck to you, dude. Stay warm,” I said to his departing figure.

I spent over an hour trying to floss my brain of that encounter.

Two hours after I had made my call to AAA (almost exactly), my phone buzzed. It was Loverman and we had a brief text exchange:


Loverman called and we argued talked about how he wanted to come and pick me up so he could leave me with his truck for the night.

I wanted nothing to do with that! I kept telling him that I would just wait for the tow truck and take my lumps (it wouldn’t be so bad, right? He has to work outside all night in the freezing cold, I can bear an hour or two). I also kept explaining to him that I didn’t feel comfortable taking his truck and keeping it overnight — I no longer feel that we are at that place in our relationfriendship.

Eventually, he listened to me and understood the words that were coming out of my mouth: instead of making himself late to work by coming to ‘rescue’ me, he was able to get to work on time and safely.

He actually did what I asked him to! He stuck to the fucking plan and went to work instead of coming to pick me up!

There’s a first time for everything, right? Trust me, though, I am not going to get used to it.

Now, let me tell you this:

When I parked the car in this neighborhood, I knew it wasn’t a good one, but I also knew it wasn’t a bad one. If I had been having a ‘decent’ week (like normal!), none of these things would have happened. And possibly it was fate’s way of making sure I really wanted to get the tattoo before I have it permanently etched into my flesh. (BTW – I still do. Even more now, after what happened Saturday, but you will have to wait to hear about that until my next post ;) )

The homeless man didn’t really surprise me or freak me out and I was joking about the “brain floss” on that one. It did leave me feeling alone and vulnerable (I was grateful for the man sitting in the booth behind me watching the entire thing), but nothing like how I was going to feel next!

Apparently, one of the McDonald’s employees had an enemy.

A man started circling ‘our’ McDonald’s in his car with another man hanging out the window waving a gun.

After a few drive-by’s, someone came running out of the kitchen hollering that he just got a text to look out the window. He looked out of a window close to my booth and said, “Oh my God! He’s really gonna do it! He’s gonna shoot my car!” Then the idiot ran outside to do whatever and a different employee called the police.

There was a lot of yelling in the parking lot, near that employee’s car, but the car with the gun left eventually.

It took 37 minutes for the police to arrive — 3 squad cars and 6 officers — only to find that the drama had passed. But, they decided to clear out the restaurant anyway because it was “safer”.

There I was, at 10:20 PM, trying to explain to a police officer that it actually was safer for me to stay inside that McDonald’s because my car was dead and I was waiting on AAA. It was cold out and my battery was dead – I just wanted to stay there until 11 when the inside of the restaurant closed.

I was told, “We apologize, Ma’am. But you need to leave the restaurant and find someplace else safe to wait.”

Where the fuck was that going to be?!?!? Everywhere around closed at 10PM. I already checked because I needed somewhere warm to be until midnight (theoretically).

To add insult to injury, I got another text from Loverman at this point, asking if I was okay and if I had been picked up yet.

I didn’t really feel like texting him all the shit that was going on, so I just texted back that I was still waiting.

I was walking around the block at 10:57 when I finally got the call from the towing company telling me that they were within 10 minutes of my car. I was so relieved I almost started crying, but quickly reminded myself that it was almost zero degrees — tears freeze!

When the tow truck driver showed up, he was awesome. We got my car towed home safe and he even cheered me up with jokes and a warm ride.

Unfortunately, now I have to fix the alternator in my car with Loverman next weekend.

So Sorry

I’m so sorry YOUR feelings got hurt because YOU fucked up and *I* was held responsible for it.

After you watched as I was humiliated and berated for YOUR completely unacceptable and inappropriate work behavior, you couldn’t just leave me alone for a few minutes to chill out?!?!

Why does that even surprise me at this point?

I simply said, “I’m sorry. Please give me some time to cool off. This has been a very rough morning and I am very upset right now. It’s very difficult to be humiliated like that for someone else’s mistake and just bounce back.”

So you storm into your office, close the door and start sassing me while you sit behind your locked office door.

How fucked up is that?

full of fuck

Are there even grown-up people that act like fucking adults any more???

Why can’t I know some of those people?!

I’m starting to wonder…


by Kate Nash

Thursday night,
everything’s fine,
Except you’ve got that look in your eyes,
when I’m telling a story
And you find it boring you’re thinking of something to say.
You’ll go along with and then drop it
And you humiliate me, in front of our friends.

Then I’ll use that voice what you find annoyin’
And say something like
“intelligent input darlin’ why don’t you just have another beer then?”

Then you call me a bitch and everyone we’re with will be embarrassed,
and I won’t give a shit.

My fingertips are holding onto the
cracks in our foundations,
and I know that I should let go,
but I can’t.
And everytime we fight I know it’s not right,
everytime that you’re upset and I smile
I know I should forget, but I can’t.

You said I must eat so many lemons,
’cause I am so bitter.
I said “I’d rather be with your friends mate,
’cause they are much fitter”

Yes it was childish
and you got aggressive
and I must admit that I was a bit scared,
but it gives me thrills to wind you up.


Your face is pasty,
’cause you’ve gone and got so wasted,
what a surprise,
don’t want to look at your face,
’cause it’s making me sick.

You’ve gone and got sick on my trainers,
I only got these yesterday.
Oh my gosh, I cannot be bothered with this.

Well I’ll leave you there till the mornin’,
and I purposely won’t turn the heating on
and dear God, I hope I’m not stuck with this one.


The End?

Loverman dropped me off at almost midnight Sunday night (almost two days early) and he took the catalytic converter (aka = cat) off of my truck, Bear, before he left. I have to pass emissions in January and he has been promising to replace my cat before then. We had a brief conversation about it on the hellishly-uncomfortable drive home.

He left and was supposed to text me when he made it home safe. I wasn’t at all surprised when he didn’t.

While I was getting ready for bed, I emailed Loverman a lightly-edited version of what happened last year. Re-reading it broke my heart; I was hoping that it might stir a little emotion in him as well. I didn’t expect that he would read it for a while (or at all), I just wanted to put it out there, so he could see how *I* remember last year.

I was finally in a peaceful place and relatively comfortable. It wasn’t where I wanted to be, but at least it was comfortable. So, I fell asleep waiting on his text.

I woke up Monday morning and surprised the hell out of my family that I was home. I walked Thing #2 to school because she felt bad for my pathetic self. When Doom-n-Gloom got home from work that morning we talked briefly about why I was home so early. Thing #1 woke up later and we talked about what happened and she put a new perspective on things:

Maybe he was feeling really guilty about disappointing you so much all on the first day and he just couldn’t forgive himself for it. Then, when you didn’t get angry with him, it just festered inside because he had no way to release it.

Such a wise point.

Then, the other day, a friend commented:

I feel like after reading both stories that there is more to this story than either of us may know. Two things come to mind that may be possible…he thinks he knows something, like he saw something on your phone, or somebody told him something… or…There could be another woman. I don’t think it is anything you did, I think there is more to the back story than you may be aware of. That is what my gut is telling me…

NOTE: I’ve been thinking about that a lot. Maybe he found the condoms in my purse. Maybe he got divorce papers from his wife (he no longer has a relationship status on Facebook). Maybe he talked with his Mom about going to KC with me and she said something… I don’t fucking know…

Regardless, if he would have said something, then we could have talked about it.

Then I would at least fucking know…

At 9AM that morning I got a text from Loverman (he is RED and I am BLUE):


That was the end of it.

Thing #1 and I sat and watched some recorded TV shows, I wrote a bit and the day passed uneventfully.

I did a lot of ruminating.

I went out and checked the center console of Bear to get my things and see what “Hawaiian Stuff” he was talking about. (Incidentally, he had found some marijuana ‘wax’ in a parking lot a few days before our sk8-venture. We were going to try it then. I had forgotten about it.)

Also, he left me his spare set of keys to my vehicles. They are were his spare set. They belonged to him. I gave them to him. *sigh*

And he left them for me on his JESUS-fish key chain.

You know…. If the douche-nozzle is trying to tell me something, why the fuck doesn’t he just say it already?!?!

For fuck sakes!

Was that him breaking up with me??? Because it sure as fuck appeared that way to me!

Please help me to understand this!?!

I moved away from the crazy state of Minnesota to get away from innuendo and passive-aggressive bullshit. I’m not going to play games with Loverman, no matter how much I think I love him! No matter how much he wants to!


After no contact for over 2 days, Loverman posts twice on Facebook Wednesday evening.

NOTE: this is something on which I have very strong negative feelings: people airing their personal drama all over Facebook. To me, Facebook is a place where I keep in touch with the people I care about. If I have problems (aka: personal drama) with those people, I take it off-line and communicate with them like we are adults.

Because we ARE adults!

Loverman’s first status update was on his page:

“Messed up a little bit”?!?!?! He’s kidding, right?

“My Fault!” ?!?!?! Was that an apology?

Were we even on the same fucking vacation?

Was that his way of saying that *I* fucked it up?!?!

(I hate feeling this way about him, by the way. I used to trust this asshole with my complete and total vulnerability! I think he is still buried somewhere deep down in my heart, but I can’t figure out what in the bloody hell is going on right now. Have I stepped into the Twilight Zone? Did I get hit by a bus and I am currently in a coma and this is all just a horrifically bad dream from which I will wake up and be relieved and thankful?)

He got his ass handed back to him in family comments on that post. Boy, are they angry with him for blowing them off! Especially his two eldest daughters. But, like both of them said, they’re used to it. *smh*

I swear he likes to fuck up so he can have people be angry with him. What the fuck is up with that?!?! For the record, I don’t actually want to be mad at him — it’s just that he was such an epically huge prick this time that it’s difficult to forgive/accept his behavior.

Then he had the balls to post a status update on MY page!!!! He couldn’t call me or text me or write me an email, or even fucking Facebook private message me?!! He has to post his stupid drama on my page; like I am some kind of 14-year-old-girl just like his ass.


I haven’t ‘liked’ any updates or comments. I have simply replied, “You’re welcome” to his post on my page.

Maybe you all can provide me with some guidance and enlightenment because, I have no idea what to say.

And, right now, I think I’m okay with that.