Throwback Thursday: Comment

Oddly enough, I was rereading some “related posts” when I came across this one: Lost

For the most part, I have overcome that feeling in regards to [Loserman].

Don’t get me wrong, I still feel very lost very much of the time, but situations (car-related and not) keep popping up in life (as they tend to do) and I am handling them on my own, without his help and/or support. Sometimes I probably don’t handle them in the best of ways, but I get through it and then deal with the consequences regardless…

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The Love of a Musician

You play my body like a harp

Plucking my consonant heartstrings

Strumming my musical pleasures

A cadence of body beats

Our moans a choral symphony

Harmonizing in melodious union

The gentle tintinnabulation of your fingers

Caressing me to a crescendo

Diminishing to a lullaby

Words inspired by:
The Love of a Musician
by Ivan Koulakov

 

“Who Knew?”

Will You Marry Me?

For the beginning of the story, click here

I don’t know what to name him… Usually something comes to me… Maybe “Steamboat” because that’s where he’s moving and he’s kind of a dreamboat 😉 or DS for Dreamboat in Steamboat… I don’t know. Maybe you can think of something.

He’s my age, attractive, intelligent, half black, half Mexican, only about an inch taller than me and very, very skinny (doesn’t shave his nethers either, hmmm…). He’s been a registered nurse for 20 years and loves his family who he goes to see every year. He wants to open his own retirement home and has a plan already in process. He likes EDM (electronic dance music), Pink Floyd, classic rock… He likes the same drugs as I do and likes to drink, but knows how to be safe because he’s a nurse. He drives a brand spanking new Miata and one would *think* he’s gay except for (maybe) the way he eats my pussy and kisses me… Damn!

Stepping Out

Last weekend I stepped out on Mick.

Things with him have been driving me batty. I felt like I needed a break in perspective (whatever that means).

So, Wednesday I turned my Tinder profile back on, changed my distance settings from 10 miles to 50 and started swiping (left mostly).

As (bad) luck would have it, I matched with someone whose profile seemed pretty awesome. Especially the fact that it stated he was moving to Steamboat Springs (3 hours away) at the beginning of June. (He currently lives almost 40 minutes from my house so, even if he wasn’t moving, that in itself would be enough reason for me not to want to get too involved.)

Perfect! Something fun and very temporary.

Whatever… That’s not how it turned out.

I sent him a note and waited to see if he would respond. Within 24 hours he did:

OK great… I’m moving to Steamboat Springs and Tinder finally lights up.

Life Changes

from Pinterest

For the time being, my life is in a quiet, restful place.

Like the calm before the storm.

Idealized Realized

It’s been almost a year now and I still hate you for leaving me.

But I also hate you for even finding me to begin with, and for staying with me for as long as you did.

What the fuck? I ask myself. Why did you have to be the one to help me find myself?

Emotional vs Physical Intimacy: Interchangeable or Interdependent?

One thing I noticed recently about my relationship with Mick is I don’t feel a compulsive need to be having sex with him all of the time we are together. In fact, my actual sexual libido is almost non-existent. I’m rarely horny any more. That could be because (when we’re together) he is touching me almost all the time and (when we’re apart) he never leaves me wondering if he actually likes me or not! We are honest and forthcoming with each other and communicate very regularly about uncomfortable things: his girlfriend and living arrangements, his tax situation (most recently), the fact that I will probably be roommates with Things #1 and #2 for quite some time yet… I expect we will continue to be transparent with each other, because that is our foundation.

The Last Couple of Weeks “with” Mr. R

(I think I may have waited a bit too long to write about this…)

The Wednesday evening before Thanksgiving, Mr. R took me out to dinner again. (Here’s our first date)

It wasn’t anything fancy. Just a burger and fries at Village Inn.

I was able to stay out late because I didn’t have to be home until 1:30am – Thursday was a work holiday for me, so I told Thing #1 I would drive her to work (and it was bloody cold!).

He had me home by my “curfew” and kissed me briefly before dropping me off.

Thanksgiving was nice (but that’s a different story with a different person and a different nice).

The next day (Friday afternoon), Mr. R asked if I would like to have dinner with him that evening.

Hmmm… I really enjoyed my Thanksgiving with Alaska…

But getting to know Mr. R is kinda challenging interesting.

We had a nice dinner. This time I picked the restaurant… He had a giant rib eye and I had fish tacos.

We talked about basic things: work and daily activities… He won’t talk to me about any of his family or any of his past, which means there isn’t much to talk about after catching up on current events. He told me about ice fishing and his new fish finder and how awesome it was; a couple funny stories about his friends and past adventures with them or by himself…

Pride: I Hate It

photo from flickr

Okay. I know it’s been forever since Loverman has been gone, but I have been thinking about him a lot lately (I am referencing him as Loverman instead of Loserman in this post because that is the ‘him’ I miss).

It probably has a lot to do with the evolution of my relationship with Alaska and the scary potential of actually even having one.

Anyway… Loverman was entirely too proud.