I am so thankful for my wonderful friends!
As soon as he heard that my Lil Bear was stolen, my skate buddy “B” fixed up his car for me to drive to Dallas for our skate party.
Another skate friend offered to take my other car, Breezy, for the weekend so I wouldn’t have to worry about it getting taken or tampered with.
And Mr. Nice Guy said that he would stop by and look in on our lovely Kitty one of the days we were gone.
My weekend was just about as perfect as a vacation weekend could be.
Unlike Loserman last year, my ride (Mr R) was precisely on time.
Everyone arrived at the airport with plenty of time to get through security. We even had enough time to sit down and have a nice breakfast!
Eleven of us flew (on the same flight, mind you! One is missing from the pic in the far left corner) and one drove. It was unbelievable that so many people went along! 8 boys, 4 girls…
Everything went so smoothly: our flight was on time, we got good rental cars, we had time to stop and get groceries and lunch and alcohol, our rooms were ready when we got to the hotel/s (I stayed across the street because I booked my room in the skate party room block at the host hotel; their reservations were made too late to get the 5 rooms they needed)…
Monday night I received a text from Scorpio:
Hey just to let you know I got some of that money ready for you to pick up whenever you want
I was SO surprised! Based on my past experiences with men (and a recent conversation) I honestly thought I would never hear from Scorpio ever again.
We met on Tuesday night after work and he paid me $100 of the $140.
He greeted me with a hug and I’ll admit that it was pretty awkward. We haven’t even spoken, only exchanged a few texts about the money he owes me from our Sk8cation a month ago.
Also, he had a friend with him and I didn’t know if they were expecting me to give them a ride or what. I asked if they needed a ride, they discussed it for a minute and decided to stick with Plan A: take the bus.
Scorpio told his buddy that he was going to talk to me in my car for a second and would be right back.
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.
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.
We had a good talk last night. Not everything that we needed to talk about, but something is better than nothing, right?
I picked Loverman up to go roller skating and we said our hellos as he was getting into my truck. He was less amorous than usual and he had been for the last few days. I was feeling that way because we hadn’t really talked since Sunday morning, and I for sure didn’t like the way I behaved the last time we spoke, (I almost acted like a total boob when I couldn’t do the oil change on my truck Sunday morning — as it turned out I acted only partially boob-y. Even while I was successfully trying to slow down and think about what I was saying I still ended up feeling like shit in the end.) so I kept telling myself that he must be mad at me because, sure as shit, *I* was mad at me.
The simple truth is, I was feeling too much distance between us. I knew it was irrational thinking and that I was wrong, but when that feeling overtakes me, I go crazy inside my head. If you’ve read my last few entries, you know that I was feeling lost and hurt. Through those entries and all my negative thoughts, the ‘good side’ of my brain would be saying, over and over, “You know he isn’t angry with you. If he was he would tell you. He’s just busy” whilst the ‘bad side’ was arguing louder and more convincingly, “He’s totally sick of you, and the way you acted last Sunday was very entitled and unappreciative. He’s mad at you and you deserve to be shut out!“
This self-doubt happens when we spend “too much” time apart and I don’t have a chance to rub my naked body all over his… It seems like I really actually need the physical intimacy as well as the emotional intimacy I have with Loverman — for some reason I cannot yet fathom. Deep down I knew (and still know) that the ‘good side’ was the CORRECT side (it ALWAYS is). The ‘bad side’ was just louder and more persistent — so, out of frustration and lack of reserve, I let the more tenacious side win.
But that’s where it stopped — inside of my head.
When I felt frustrated, lost or hurt I wrote something to help me exorcise the ‘bad side’. While it didn’t completely suppress the demon, it sure as hell helped calm me down from insanity-level-10 when I spoke with Loverman — it temporarily muzzled the anger and hate until I was ready deal with it on a much more rational level.
It turns out that the last few days were pretty tough for him. He’s been having serious problems with the truck that he bought a couple of months back and his driver’s license was suspended last year the day after he paid to get it reinstated. He found that out this week while trying to register the damn truck. He’s been trying to fix a friend’s car and, no matter what he does, it doesn’t work. Last week he helped a friend move (a ‘friend’ that promised he would pay Loverman for his time, truck and fuel) but the ‘friend’ said that he would have money for him this Monday — he didn’t. His best friend’s grandfather died… I could go on, but why? My ‘good side’ was right all along. I KNEW it, but my ‘bad side’ still prevailed, no matter how much the goodie-goodie argued…
After we said our hellos he still seemed distant, and I really needed to know that we were ‘okay’. So I outright asked him “Are you mad at me?”
“No, peanut, I am not mad at you. I am never mad at you. Why do you keep asking me that?”
I thought for a second about my response, because I wanted it to be genuine and as free of negativity as possible, “It’s just that when we don’t talk for a while I start to feel distant from you – forgettable. I get insecure and my brain starts telling me things. Once I start feeling that way, tiny evil thought monsters take over my brain and start destroying all the positive things I keep telling myself. Eventually I start believing the evil thought monsters, and I HAVE to ask you because I really need to know.”
He smiled at me, leaned over to kiss me and he said, “You’re such a peanut. I am not mad at you and I am not sick of you. Now kiss me again and let’s go skating!”
Last Saturday night I took Loverman roller skating for the first time since I broke my ankle. I was excited, but I was also a little scared about the feelings I would have while I was there…
- Would I cry because I wouldn’t be able to roller skate (I didn’t, but I did afterward, and I kind of am a little bit now — I think it might be a touch of PMS, though 😉 )?
- Would I just sit there, alone and bored, waiting for it to be over because I didn’t want to stop Loverman from having such a good time?
- Would anyone remember me?
- Would I get jealous of Loverman because everyone was paying attention to him and not me?
It wasn’t any of that!
The second I walked in the door (hobbled really, because I’m still on these pesky crutches) all of our friends rushed over to us! The feeling was amazing! Until roller skating, I never felt like I belonged to a group. Loverman was given his overdue Christmas present (I mentioned in a previous post that there is a girl there that I think has a crush on him) and I got to sit and talk with different people the entire evening. In fact, so much that the time absolutely flew by and before I knew it, Adult Skate was over for the night. And I hadn’t really gotten to watch Loverman skate at all…
I thought I would be more sad because I wouldn’t be able do what I most like to do (besides knockin’ da boots 😉 ). I never thought that the people that we skate with would miss me. I knew they would miss Loverman! He’s such an awesome skater and a whole bunch of the guys like skating with him. But I figured that I would just fade away like an evening shadow. I don’t know why… We’ve been skating together there pretty much every Saturday night for the last two years! Why wouldn’t they miss me, too?
Now, as I sit here writing about it, all I can think about is how I want my ankle to get better so I can go skating again! Oh, how I miss my skate nights with my sexy Loverman… We have this backwards skate step that we do together during the slow, couples songs that no one else can do… And I didn’t realize until now how much I miss “my skatin’ peeps”.
I know I will get better and that everything will be “back to normal” soon, but sitting around waiting is driving me batty!
That’s what happened to me this morning as I was bringing my daughters to school. We had just entered the driveway for the High School drop-off and I had to stop because some students were crossing the driveway. The giant truck behind me must not have seen my tiny rear end slow down and stop (not to mention the teenagers walking across the street!) because he slammed into the back of my/Loverman’s little-bitty car. Both tail-lights were knocked clean out of their sockets and the frame is now bent so the trunk will not latch/close.
After all was said and done, I was only 30 minutes late to work and the car is still drivable (so far — cross your fingers!). My neck is sore and both of my daughters said the same thing, but I am SO happy that poor little car is the only thing that was hurt (and not too badly)! It could have been so much worse!
It turns out that the man who hit me really was a pretty nice guy. You should have seen his face when I got out of the car with my cast and gimped over to him on my crutches… And he also works at a body shop (BONUS!! Because neither insurance company is going to cover the repair costs for this little ’93 Ford Probe with 217,000 miles on it). After he gave me all his information, he got some tools out of his truck and a couple of washers and he screwed both of the tail-lights back in for me so I could still drive it — the electrical was all still working. Also, he tried to get the trunk to latch just so it’s more secure, but no luck there.
I called Loverman right away and I told him — waking him up (for reference, that is NOT the way I like waking him up!). He was totally awesome about it and asked me if everyone was okay and if I wanted him to come and get me and bring me to work. I told him I will try to drive his car to work and let him know if I have any more “problems”. He really is so great… And I really do feel so bad…
I know it wasn’t my fault, but his car was my responsibility (he trusted me with it!) and I feel like I let him down. I know I let myself down (yet I don’t understand why)…
I need to learn NOT to feel responsible for things that are not my fault. Just because I am there, doesn’t mean that I did it. Loverman isn’t mad at me… And why should he be, right?
But I am still mad at me…