Sunday, June 29, 2008

On the Rocking Horse: Back and Forth

Friday, June 27th 2008 at 3:00pm


Indeed, Crusifer was upset about being denied the beer. However I think I’m making him look worse than he is. Then again (just as matter-of-fact) I always thought I was making Tre look worse than he was, but lets keep in mind that while I may have similar feelings now and again to those I had while I was with Tre that Crusifer is very different.

Crusifer is a logical personal when he’s not affected by conflicting emotions such as jealousy, indignation, defensiveness and feeling enslaved. These emotions make him behave completely inappropriately and illogically even to his own motives. He’s admitted that going out isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but he hasn’t hit that realization that it’s not worth it the way I did. For me, the realization that having a bunch of friends and being popular wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be was like a smack in the face. I was in the midst of throwing a party and realized that despite all the people in my room I felt alone. Despite all the conversation nothing was being said. Despite all the drugs to make people happy, to me, it didn’t seem like a happy affair. All I could see was a bunch of pitiful teenagers making my room a mess and drinking the alcohol I paid for and mixed.

Over time I realized that not only was having a party not worth it, but attending one was equally useless. The process of attending a party is long and arduous. It takes two hours of dressing, phone calls, and preparing just to be ready including planning transportation there and back. Once you’re there you’re obligated to talk and engage in activities deemed “fun” by the mass appeal of the people there or you look like a “loser.” I’ve come to the conclusion that these activities (drug use, and talking to strangers about nothing) should only be for single people, stupid people, and couples that consist of two people who love to party together. I don’t fit into either of the three categories and if I have my way about it, I never will.

Crusifer however, like me, has never been popular until now and he’s still basking in the glory of people knowing his name, calling his phone and being interested in him. Women are paying more attention to him than they ever have in his life, and he’s flattered. I get that, because after all, I was recently just there. For me, the phase lasted about five months. For him, it’s lasted almost a year now, but I think he’s really coming out of it.

For one thing, when I was truly ready to give up on him he suddenly realized he had truly neglected me and I noticed a genuine change in his attitude. It wasn’t a “how may a please you so you don’t leave” attitude, it’s a “I love you to death, and you’re mine, and I want to marry you, so please, please, please, love me back and want what I want so we can have our lives together” attitude and it’s lasted up to this day.

Relapses are to be expected. I was able to bring him out of his sulking with lots of love and attention, and without prompting he told me how much he appreciated me cleaning the room. He’s reiterated several times this week that I will not work overtime or go out. He scolds me for what he’s done wrong by way of... Hm, it’s this funny thing he does... I didn’t get it at first when he started doing it a year ago. When I thought of something clever or remembered something that he didn’t he’d say, “Good thing I thought about that.” At first I would reply, “But... I just thought of that...”

Now I see that it’s a game, one in where he is filling up some ego with imaginary deeds even though he’s still keeping in mind I was the one who really did them. It’s like the bank having your money and you having your money at the same time basically. Now he’s say, “Good thing I thought about that,” and I’ll say, “Yeah! What would I ever do without you?” In reality, he’s saying, “babe, you rock,” and I’m saying, “no, you rock!” and we both know it, but you’d be damned to understand that if you were listening to our conversation. It works the same way for bad things, when he does something he feels guilty about he scolds me with a smile on his face. This lets me know that he’s sorry, and that he truly intends to keep himself in check and that I don’t have to scold him anymore because he already knows.

This is why I’m completely charmed when he says to me, “Babe you gotta stop working overtime and hanging out with bitch ass niggas. I miss you when you don’t come home to me!”

Sounds silly, I know.


Ashley,

I know it seems silly to be so confident, but I know he’s not cheating. For one thing, he’s the guilty-type, like me, and he’d have to tell me. He wouldn’t be able to hide it. He’d come home with his tail between his legs if he did. Also, if he were sleeping with “barbie gone emo” then why tell me about her at all? That wouldn’t make sense if he wanted to keep it from me.

One also has to bare in mind that we did have an open relationship, so cheating isn’t really my prime concern, even though it bothers me immensely when he’s around other girls. (Which is why we don’t have an open relationship anymore. Neither of us could stand the jealousy we ended up feeling.) He really doesn’t have time for a relationship outside of me when he’s working so many hours. Spending only five hours or so with some other girl wouldn’t keep her around. Also I sit right next to him when he gets the chance to read his e-mail or talk on instant messenger and all he really talks to is his brother or online friends that he plays games with. Sometimes I read his whole conversation, which generally isn’t of much interest.

On top of that, the only person who calls him all the time is El, and I’m pretty sure the two of them aren’t secretly bi and having sex with each other. El is the jealous type and Connie, his girlfriend, is prude, so I know Crusifer isn’t “running train” on Connie either.

All of that being said, Crusifer is rather obsessed with sex, but I can understand that, having been obsessed with sex for at least five years out of my life how can I not understand? Anyone who doesn’t feel that magical bond during sex isn’t properly in love or is busy resenting their partner and has issues to straighten out. Crusifer and I both happen to be rather addicted to that bond, which is why I can’t have him sleeping with other girls, I don’t want him feeling that with anyone but me even if he’s not interested in the female as anything but a body. I suppose that’s the realization that really kicked off my jealousy.

Anyway, you shouldn’t stop writing in your blog... That would be such a depressing event.


Tater,

His particular actions, like those I described in my last entry, are precisely what was driving me over the edge and making me give up. It took a lot of effort to rub Crusifer’s nose in the fact that doing nothing “wrong” can still be wrong just by it’s lack of not being right. As cold is just the absence of heat, wrong is the absence of good. Indifference is the absence of love.

I’ve come to see now that I have a way of wording things that hurts his pride, and that I also have a very controlling tone of voice that make him feel trapped or controlled. As a man, he can’t take it. It’s a struggle for both of us to not let our emotions get the best of us. I get needy and begin to cry at the slightest blow to my pride, and likewise he ignores me and becomes silent and the slightest blow to his pride. When we both hurt each other at worse it only escalates because we’re both sitting there waiting for the other to come to us, and comfort, touch, talk, give in and be sorry.

He behaves like he doesn’t care whenever he feels like he cares too much. He feels like caring too much might turn him into a “bitch ass nigga.” I’ve explained to him something he couldn’t argue with recently:

If a woman and a man are dating, and the man is so enthralled by her pussy and beauty that he does everything she asks upon threat of not getting laid, or upon threat or her leaving then he is being controlled. But if he is so in love with her that he does everything she asks out of choice, and she, instead of threatening him tells him what she wants so he can please her best, and also does for him all that she can out of love, how can you say that he is enslaved?

When I said this to him he couldn’t argue and said it was a very good point. I believe this is just another step into adjusting his perspective. Crusifer’s perspective was damaged by Brianna who made him feel like he couldn’t trust any woman. She became a symbol for betrayal and hatred and women all at once. He hadn’t been in a real relationship since her when he met me. He was afraid to become attached to me, afraid to love me, afraid to do things for me, and the fact that he’s come so far at all is really a wonder.

I pretty much do ask him just the way what’s wrong, and now (though I didn’t used to a few months ago) explain to him how his responses are part of what I base my opinion of him on, and that my opinion will be that he doesn’t care about me if he can’t tell me how he feels.


Sometimes I want to call it quits because of something he does, but then I remember how many things have improved. For one, he’s supporting me with his income. For two, he did quite smoking cigarettes for me. For three, he does rub me, talk to me, pay attention to me or do any other small thing I ask as long as I have not recently hurt his feelings in some way. Four, he’s separated himself from his friends more and more in the last six months even though the process is very slow in the happening.

When I consider the progress as a whole it seems like a lot. It only feels like so little because it’s taken a year and a half for it all to come about. But it was five months into our relationship before he wasn’t embarrassed of loving me. Love itself is frightening to him. Heck, he’s still a little nervous about masturbating near me. It makes him terribly self-conscious, but before he couldn’t do it at all.

He finally smiles when I tell him he’s beautiful instead of feeling like I’m “playing him” or some other silly thing. He’s stopped calling me a liar. He likes my parents and though uncomfortable around them he is trying to find more ways to be around them and me together. He’s become more open about discussing his feelings with me even though he’s still struggling with getting them out in a coherent manor.

I know it might seem like I’m just jumping to his defense, but honestly I’m not. Over the past couple weeks I’ve mostly been really happy. There have been about three incidents that have really hurt me, but even those incidents were repaired almost as quickly as they happened.

I finally got him to stop ignoring me shortly after writing my last entry and the rest of the day went rather smoothly and happily as a matter of fact. Actually, if I hadn’t written that entry I would have forgotten that I had been upset at all because we had so much fun cooking together, watching Taro the Dragon Boy together, staying up late, and digitally painting.

Rosie,

Which banner was that? I know a couple of my banners are a little frisky... I don’t think Andrew ever rejected any of them though...

I’m going through the same struggle to getting Crusifer “dry,” but we’re stilling struggling will the first step, which is realizing that there is a problem. Sometimes he admits to having one, and other times he says “but I don’t drink that much.” I think I might have gotten through to him on the fact that I want him to quit because I care about him at least though.


I hope that by our two year anniversary I can say he’s “dry” like you can say about your man... As for him leaving, the last thing he’s thinking about is leaving. If this clears up anything, when I tell him that I might as well give up, he pleads with me not to give up on him and to keep pushing him to improve himself. That at least goes to show that he likes that I push him...


Sunday, June 29th 2008 at 12:35am


Today was Asa’s birthday party. I had fun, as I always do at game night. I brought him two prints, three post cards and one magnet from the Phoenix’s Muse Creations vault, and he liked them a lot. I was so pleased that he liked the selections.


Sunday, June 29th 2008 at 1:49pm


Crusifer is supposed to go shopping with his mom today. Around three o’clock she’s going to come pick him up to go to the boulevard mall. He plans on buying new sneakers. I suppose I don’t really mind him going if he really is going to be back before seven. It’s just that though, I don’t really believe that he’ll be back before seven. Of course, I also don’t believe that she’ll really come without confirmation and he’s convinced she will call him...

In other news, I’ve been up for about an hour. I’ve been having odd hours lately... Much odder than getting up at 12:30pm. I went to sleep at about 8:30am which is becoming common for me, and I especially like being awake when the birds start chirping and during the middle of the night thunder storms and to see the light behind the curtains grow from pale to bright.

I’ve never been a morning person in terms of waking up, but incidently I love the feel of about seven in the morning. It’s quiet and peaceful and the air seems to just smell good. The sunlight seems so beautiful after hours of a dimly lit room and the birds singing makes it seem like some sort of reprieve from life, a song in honor of the earth. I wonder what a different world it would be if we got up and sang to the glory of the earth every morning.

In other unrelated thoughts... Crusifer just got a phone call from some dude. He’s becoming so fucking popular and I can only see it as a hindrance to our life together. “Barbie gone emo” is named Kara which is, of course, one of his new friends. Sam has gotten tattooed by him now which is a long-time friend of both him and El since before he knew me. And Sam... When, he’s had thoughts of fucking her since long before he met me. El has called him twice today so far, and some other guy who is a “new friend.” I swear I flinch every time his phone rings. It’s actually silly of me because he never spends more than ten minutes on the phone really.

I’m wondering if I’m pregnant. (Really random, I know.) My period was only three days long and I’ve heard of having short periods when early on in a pregnancy. I’ve even heard of never losing your period at all during pregnancy in rare cases. I’m ten pounds over the weight I was a week and a half ago, and during my three-day period when I was seven pounds over the weight I’ve been for two months now (120lbs) which I considered usual since I was on my period. But since I’ve actually gone up another three pounds up to 130lbs which is what I was for a long time before I suddenly lost another ten pounds, so I’m not worried about the weight, but it does set me to wondering.

So that’s the physical signs: the short period and the weight gain. There are also two intuitive signs. During an argument I had with Crusifer during my period I had this sudden vision of myself sitting on the toilet screaming in tears. It was clear to me that in the vision I knew I was having a miscarriage and was deeply distressed and also in a lot of pain. I thought the vision was odd, but I had this very strong energy coming from my stomach and I felt that trance-feeling that I get while in a meditation which is also odd to have out of the blue. And on top of that, Mary said over dinner the day before yesterday, “I’m getting that sick feeling... Someone is pregnant.”

Now, not to discredit Mary’s abilities, but sometimes she jumps the gun a bit with her inclinations. I think her spiritual connection is very high, but her interpretations of what her impressions are... Those are questionable. She’s too easily influenced by her own feelings which is often what hinders us from seeing truth, whether were getting truth intuitively or through physical signs.

If I were pregnant now and held it for full term that would mean having my baby in March, one month before our tentative wedding date. That would be highly inconvenient for a number of reasons, one of which being the making of the dress. How could I be fitted for it and try it on when in full bloom? And beyond that, it would be hard to say my final size because I’d be nursing so my bust size would be different than it is now. So if I was pregnant, a miscarriage would be ideal... Even in heart-wrenching.

I felt like the vision was three-months into it, so at that point I’d be sure I was pregnant, and I would have told my mom by then that I knew. I just have to hope I’m wrong. Because even with the vision I can’t keep myself in denial if I was pregnant. I can’t just say, “well, I’m going to have a miscarriage so I won’t worry about it, or get attached to it.” Hence why, three months in, I would be so distressed emotionally as well as physically to have one.

I suppose I’m jumping the gun to be thinking about it this much, but there is a lot to be considered if I really was having a baby in nine months. There is still so much work to be done first. If Crusifer and I are really getting married and are really having children the earliest time I’d prefer to get pregnant is the month of our wedding., but more preferably in June or July or even August of 2009. Then I’d have a spring baby, though if I did get pregnant in April I’d get to have a January baby, like myself.

Speaking of birthdays. Crusifer’s birthday in July 20th. I’ve made some moderate plans, but nothing final, and nothing extravagant as of yet. I believe his birthday lands on a Sunday... Yep, the third Sunday of July this year... He has no requests in particular, so it’s up to me to do the best I can at pleasing him.


Angel Writes:

I like the sound of that, Atara =]] maybe (just maybe) we could very well be sisters in spirit.

Yeah, the whole "split personality" feeling is driving me insane... at least a little bit. I'm really just trying to not get caught up in everything lately.

LOL well I can send you some pictures of me if you want me to...

I'd love to stay over there for an entire month because I need time away from this reservation. People are getting more insane by the minute! But I asked my parents and we all agreed that one week is much more suitable like you suggested. So, the ticket is about $245 I think. I AM GOING TO SEE YOU!!!!! =]] Ha, I'm uber excited. When do you think is the best time for me to come? I was thinking, the last week of July or either the week before. I'm so thrilled! :)

Oh cool, I never heard of SFX convention; so I'm stuck wondering what that is... but hey I'd love to tag along!

Hmm... well, I think Crusifer and I can become friends... but I understand what you mean. I can be a bit quiet but I try not to be.

...

Sorry for not writing much but I feel like shit right now..... I hate feeling so lonely. Times like these I wish that I had real friends (offline not just online) so they can be here when I need them. The thing is, I'm the girl everyone comes to when they feel low. They come to me for advice which is strange because I don't have all the answers. Nobody does, eh? You're pretty much my inspiration though. I felt like mentioning that.............. but yeah it's kind of hard when you're the friend people turn to . I don't mind really because I love helping them out. It's just, what does the girl who people believe have all the answers, doesn't know what to do and has nobody to turn to, what does she do?


I write angel back:


Sister-spirit Angel,

I would like to see what you look like. I met Pete (an online friend from when I was very young who I still talk to from time to time... Which reminds me I need to call him back...) Without seeing a picture before hand and was rather surprised at his appearance when I met him. How can you be anything but surprised when you make up some image in your head with no physical facts to go on? For example, knowing that you’re native-american prepares me for a standard native-american look, but I might be a little surprised if you had bleached your hair blond and might not even believe it was you for a bit while I sorted out the complete wrong-ness of my mental image! Okay, anyway, I just wanted to say that just because requesting pictures sounds so stalker-ish.

In terms of when I’d like to suggest either the 14th to the 19th or the 21st to the 26th. I suggest those two because I think it would be best if you were not here on a Sunday because Crusifer doesn’t know anything about you and he might resent spending both his days off (Wednesday and Sunday) with you when he usually spends them just with me. Also, the 20th happens to be his birthday and it wouldn’t be prudent to have someone he doesn’t know there, which also happens to be a Sunday this year. Since I have no obligations the rest of the time when he’s at work, which is most of the day (noon to 11:30pm) every other day of the week we’ll have plenty of time in those six days to go out and explore Buffalo and talk and stuff. Perhaps we could do some crafts – I don’t know how much you like crafts or how much you’ve done of them but I have all kinds of paints, pastels, markers, block-crayons, colored papers, glue-sticks, a glue-gun, tape, designed-tape, designed-papers, and probably more things I’m not even thinking of... Like the charcoal pencils and graphite stick.

So do either of those sound feasible for you? The fourteenth is a Monday and the nineteenth is a Saturday, and the same goes for the twenty-first to the twenty-sixth. Incidently, I did ask if he minded you coming down to stay with us for a bit. I didn’t mention how long or anything like that. I only mentioned that we’d been talking via e-mail for a long time and that I think you’re really cool. He said, “as long as she doesn’t steal my shit I suppose I don’t mind,” and I said, “well, she’d probably be sleeping on our other bed,” and I pointed at the futon, “so that’s why I thought I’d ask.” He shrugged and said he didn’t mind.

You ought to know (from reading my blog) that he’s a bit one-minded sometimes, so of course he also asked if you were hot and if you wanted to sleep with him. Don’t worry, he wouldn’t make an unwelcome advance on you or anything like that, but well... If you wanted to... Well, things might be able to be arranged, but that’s probably getting ahead of myself and I don’t have any idea how you’d feel about any sort of thing, and well... You know, how we were looking for a girl-friend in the past. We pretty much gave up because we never meet a chick who is both intelligent and hot and on top of that likes both of us and not just one of us.

I never even thought to ask if you were bi... Maybe I did and forgot your answer? I’m sure if you told me you were bi I’d remember, so if I did ask then you’re straight. Anyway, nothing for you to worry yourself about, there is no sort of expectation on that level whatsoever and as I said, Crusifer would never make an unwelcome advance, but I thought I’d mention it just in case you would be interested, just so you’d know it was an option and all. After all, I know you’re love-life hasn’t been very fulfilling for you in the past, especially recently...

Anyway, I hope none of that makes you uncomfortable or anything. That’s the sort of thing that generally makes people shy away from me. I’m too honest, and too out-there with too many things for most people to handle. But after everything we’ve talked about... I just feel like we’ve “been through” enough things to warrant being able to say anything to you, you know? I’m slowly starting to believe you really won’t forget about me or shy away from me just because of something silly.

Anyway, I of course know what you mean about not having offline friends to talk to. Since I’ve never had an in-person friend that I could tell anything to I’ve never even felt like I had a real friend. I’ve become close to a few people, even if for a short period of time, but there is never anyone I could say anything at all to except for those I’ve dated. What’s extraordinary about Crusifer is that there were even deeper things about me that I couldn’t fully share with Jeremy or Tre that I have been able to share with Crusifer which is probably why I’ve felt even more attached to him, which I hardly thought was possible before I met him.

Perhaps we can be the sort of real friends that we’ve never had before and outlast all the silly changes in life which tear people apart. Hm, after saying something that “dramatic” I feel a loss for further words to add to that...

Anyway, let me know if either of my date selections works for you, and if either of them works for you then you may go ahead and make any and/or all preparations you need without any further confirmation from me. You have the welcome of my mother and I both and Crusifer’s permission, so that’s all you need on this end. The plane ticket price you mentioned is a tad higher than I expected. You might want to check around online as see if there is a better deal out there. Is that a round-trip price I hope? Considering that I don’t expect you’ll be bringing a lot of spending money with you, which is fine. There isn’t tons of special stuff to buy in Buffalo or anything, and an extra person’s worth of groceries for a week shouldn’t be a problem for us, and you’d be going with us on our weekly trip on Wednesday so you’d be able to pick out a few things you’d prefer.

I look forward to your reply. I hope you feel better. Perhaps you will cheer up as the prospect of visiting me. I know I let out a happy squeal which made Crusifer look at me out of the corner of his eye when I read that your parents said you could come, which is when I explained to him about you and asked if he minded at all... Anyway, write back soon.


And I suppose I might as well include a list of things you should bring:


- Obviously all your bathroom stuff. You should make sure you have your own "bathroom bag" so that no one mistakes your stuff for my stuff and uses it. (My Dad and Crusifer go ahead and use my stuff without asking all the time.) Don't worry about towels or wash cloths unless you have something against using ours.


- A swimsuit just incase we decide to go to Darien Lake or to the beach.


- A nightgown (or two) you wouldn't mind wearing around me or Crusifer. A robe might very-well be useful too.


- Any particular night stuff you prefer to have is welcome, but we have plenty of extra pillows, blankets, sheets and other such things if you'd like them so unless you have a certain preference you won't need them.


- Slippers if you have them. You'll want them for going up and down the stairs to the attic since they are not well-swept generally and your feet might not take a liking to them bare as Crusifer and I usually go.


- A laundry bag of some sort might be a good idea. If you have a flexible fold-up laundry-bin-thingy that would be preferable. We have a zillion of them in this house, but usually they’re all in use at once and I’d hate to have to mix your stuff or put it in a plastic bag or on the floor or something. Whatever you generally use if it’s easily portable would probably be best.


- A laptop if you have one. Any PC games or PS2 games that you have and like to play.


- A notepad, book and sketch pad are three things I’d never go anywhere without so I’ll suggest those as well.


- One outfit you feel dressed-up in (in case the occasion arrives) and one outfit you feel very comfortable in. I’d also suggest bringing the warmest outfit you have as well as the coolest outfit you have because of the unpredictable weather. Considering all the rain you should bring a rain coat too. In terms of other clothes, whatever you feel comfortable in or whatever you think would be fun to wear is probably fine. Nobody in this house will look at you odd if you have any fashion quirks, after-all, consider all the weird things I wear.


- Digital camera if you have one. If not, you can take all the pictures you want with either my mom’s camera or Crusifer’s and I can send the pictures to you via e-mail, or just upload them to photo-bucket so you can save them from the internet. In fact, I’d even be able to print a bunch for you before you left.

- Cell phone assuming you have one, and don’t forget your charger! If you have a lot of little electrical gadgets, like a cell phone, lap top, digital camera and a PSP you might want to consider bringing your own power-strip since our outlets tend to be rather full. We have generally about four empty spaces, but that’s like one empty space per power-strip. If it’s only one or two things, don’t worry about it though.


- A hat and a scarf. The rain makes it windy and I’d love to take you don’t to the water front where it’s very windy.


- Identification, perhaps even including your birth certificate if you wish to visit Canada while you’re here. The peace bridge is only about eight blocks from my house so Canada isn’t far at all. But border crossing can be a pain without proper ID. I think you need both your social security card and your birth certificate, or perhaps just two forms of ID, one of which being your birth certificate. If you’re not interested in visiting Canada, I suppose it doesn’t much matter, but it’s always good to have ID just incase of something happening. I suppose you’d need it to get on a plane in the first place come to think of it.


- Any cosmetics, hair brush, jewelry and other girly stuff you can’t live without should be a must bring. Also, just as womanly advice, always bring pads, because you never know, and it sucks to use some other woman’s pads who wears some odd shape you’re not used to. Believe me, I know that from experience. I’ve had to deal with tiny panty liners that wouldn’t do for more than an hour as well as huge pads that felt like diapers because I didn’t have my own. Also, you might want to make your choice on which dates to choose based on your period in case you hadn’t thought about that.


- An extra luggage bag with nothing in it, or with food in it. You’ll probably end up taking more home than you came with. It’s kind of impossible to go an any trip without bringing new things home. If you pack a bag with food then an empty one won’t be needed since it will be empty by the time you’ve eaten all of it.


Whew, I come off as a travel expert don’t I? I suppose I’ve learned a lot about it from all my poor travel choices in the past. I suppose my only last bit of advice is to consider what you normally do to entertain yourself. We won’t be out and about and doing something together for a full six days, so you should consider what you’re going to be doing when you’re by yourself. You’ll be able to use the computers, and we have plenty of crafts, but nothing will substitute whatever makes you feel comfortable in the first place. Hope to be meeting you soon and reading your reply much sooner.


Sunday, June 29th 2008 at 10:00pm


Let’s see here... I know his phone isn’t dead because it was fully charged right before he left. I know he’s not having service problems because he’s not at work. I know it isn’t a work obligation because, well, he’s not at work, and the shop isn’t even open today.

I whole chest aches. If he can’t give me a phone call now I can just imagine going into labor and not being able to get a hold of him. He just doesn’t understand the full implications of his actions, otherwise he wouldn’t tell me he’d probably be back shortly after six o’clock when the mall closes but not call me since five o’clock.

At five o’clock he called, and I excitedly answered (even though I had just fallen asleep, but I decided not to tell him that because I want him to call). He said he was about to leave for the mall with his mom right then, and I said, “Babe the mall closes in an hour, why didn’t you go right away?”

He said, “Some niggas don’t get to see their mom’s everyday. I’m spending time with my mom right now, I told you that!” Could he have been any more defensive?

Trying not to get angry I said, “Why are you getting so defensive. You told me you were going to the mall with your mom and that you were going to buy shoes. So why would I be wrong to wonder why you’re not there?”

“Whatever. I should get going. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He hung up before I can give him a phone-kiss like we always do. I wanted to scream and made a mental note not to expect him before eight o’clock and went back to sleep within half an hour. At eight o’clock my mom called and woke me up telling me there were potatoes downstairs. I ate them with a good enough attitude, but by nine o’clock (after calling him several times) my spirits were down. I watched the last hour of a movie called Rain. I just finished watching it before this entry, and called him again. No answer.

I’m trying so hard to put my full energy into him. In fact, I am putting my full energy into him. I’ve been braiding his hair because he likes how it looks when he takes it out in the morning. I braided his whole head just to give him the pleasure of it being braided, just for it to be taken out a few hours later. I’ve been putting him to sleep every night. I’ve been having sex with him every night. I’ve been doing every little thing I could come up with to do for him besides!

I don’t deserve this shit. There is at least one man out there who would appreciate me more... But I don’t want to give up on him. I feel so trapped in my own emotions. I get so emotional about him that I’m not sure when I’m trusting my gut, my heart, my spirit or my head. It’s all mixed up when it comes to him... When he pulls stunts like this my whole flesh and spirit scream at me to walk away before he causes me anymore pain, and then my entire flesh and spirit screams back that I can’t!

If I do get a hold of him and he’s as defensive or worse as before I don’t know how I’m going to hold myself together. It’s time for the annoying repeatedly calling... That’s one ring through. When I say annoying, I mean annoying for me, not for him. I can feel my heart pounding and I’m sitting still. Redial for the second time... Deep breaths... This is no cause to be getting so worked up.

But it’s ten-fifteen! Come on. When he was here this morning he spent the only time with me fucking me. Yes, he brought me a cup of tea and gave me affection for about ten minutes. Then it was back to his computer which is giving him a hard time... (End of the fifth ring through... Redial.) I understand that he wants to get his laptop configured to it’s maximum capacity and everything and that he’s mid-process and it’s not functional again yet... (Redial.) But for him to spend his only two hours with me on his computers, then leave off with his mom, get defensive on his one phone call, not call when staying out later than expected... (Redial.)

It’s infuriating. Oh! This time it didn’t make it to voice mail! He ignored the call! Now my heart is really pounding... With pure anger. (Redial.) I’m shaking worse than a leaf. I don’t care what his excuse is. (Redial.) There just isn’t an excuse. (Redial, redial, redial, redial, leave a heart-broken message and repeat.)

I don’t even know which one of us is being immature. Well, like he said: Whatever! I’m done calling, seven straight minutes of non-stop dialing isn’t good for my health. I don’t how I’m going to keep from being bitter when (if ever) he gets home tonight... Probably won’t get home tonight.

I know he’s not going to be at his mother’s house this late. Nah, he went out with “da boys” and he’s drinking right now, and Cav won’t answer the phone. You know what, he wants to play this game, then he can forget it. He can forget all of it. One of these days the straw is going to break my back. (Fuck the camel, I’m worried about me here.) I’ll keep forgiving and forgiving and forgiving and one day I’ll be convinced he’s never going to change and then it will be over. Otherwise I’ll just settle for being supported by him despite my loss of love for him, but I doubt I could ever settle for that. I’m too used to being so deeply in love.

I want to scream and shout and throw a hissy-fit all over the place. How stupid, stupid, stupid can I be to really believe things are changing? I know by tomorrow we’ll probably have this worked out all over again, but surely his words will stop soothing me. Just like one day it didn’t matter how much Tre cried or promised. One day (at this bloody rate) it won’t matter what Crusifer says, and I’ll throw everything away to find real love again. I know I’m not at fault this time. I know I did absolutely nothing wrong, and all the more the pitty because I won’t blame myself for any part of this and therefor he’ll get the full score of blame in my memory for this one. I couldn’t have done a damned thing better for him in the entire past week short of taking him a sandwich at work everyday. And hell, most of the week I didn’t have time for that away.


Janeane,

You’re completely right and completely wrong at the same time. I’d like to start out by saying you can’t anger me with honesty, especially not heart-felt honesty. And your point about him being not great, and not nice is a well-taken point though not completely on the mark, but after all, if you only read one entry, of course that would seem to be the case, and many times it is regretfully the case. I should point that out to him.

I like that you pointed this out: “I'm really not digging his going out with other girls so late at night and getting drunk twice in one weekend.” It’s not just that he’s out with other girls (his customers) it’s also how late at night it is. I don’t think 2am until 4am is a reasonable time for him to be hanging out with anyone other than me. It’s disrespectful just by itself. Not calling me makes it three times as bad. It being with a girl and the fact that he was smoking weed with her makes is so bad I can’t even use a multiple. Coming home and “bragging” about it is downright contemptuous and disgusting. That stunt, and then this today... I might as well go hang myself, or at least hang my dreams.

The communication isn’t the best, but it’s actually not that bad. We do talk about things. The real issue is that he’s not very loyal to his own words. He says things like “I don’t need my friends.... I don’t enjoy going out most of the time... I want to improve myself... You are the most important thing in my life... My goal is to get you in that wedding dress,” and more similar things and he also says, “I just want to have fun and have a drink with the boys... I work sixty-fucking-hours a week and if I want to go out with my friends then I’m going to go out with my friends... I don’t have a drinking problem, what’s wrong with a couple drinks here and there? It doesn’t cause problems in my life.”

The real problem is that he’s the biggest fucking hypocrite on the planet. An explosion is warranted, but wouldn’t be helpful. I have exploded and all that does is make him more defensive. I look at our relationship as being deseased, and somewhere there is a cure between the two of us, and that cure is based in loving mutual compassion. And that is my goal in life. I do not have career aspirations, and I do not have other friends, and I do not go out and do anything without considering him because I consider that to be a good woman and a good lover and most importantly what a good wife does, and also what a good husband should do. All these men and women out there are living separate lives from their spouses, and all these married people are getting divorces. Perhaps because they spent too much time apart and not enough time connecting with each other and loving each other and doing things together.

Frankly, I don’t care how clingy that sounds. Other loving men out there will agree, and if Crusifer can’t wake up to the type of life I’m trying to give him, then he needs to leave. I do center my life around him, and that is what I want from life, and that is where you’re completely wrong. But you are right that I won’t settle for someone who ignores me. He keeps this act up and he’ll be history very quickly. I need to quit thinking marriage and babies and start thinking in a girlfriend/boyfriend mind-set. I’m trying to be his wife and he’s trying to be my lover. The two don’t go together, and that is that.

Thanks for being honest. I hope you stop by again. Your input is valuable to me.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

I’m crying idealistic tears of creativity.

Wednesday, June 25th 2008 at 5:09am


I glanced at a blog just now that had a six word memoir. It’s a challenge going around and I’d like to take the opportunity to take it on. I know for a fact that one of my six words needs to be “creative.” Hers was “many mistakes later I am laughing,” which is very clever, so I want to think of something really clever too.

Imaginative creativity applied to idealism leads to disappointment... But that’s too long. Idealistic creativity manifests deep dissatisfaction... But that is five words. I am crying idealistic tears of creativity. Drat, that’s seven words and I really like that one. Oh! I know!

I’m crying idealistic tears of creativity!

That’s my six word memoir. But, there are still so many things I wish to creep into it... I’m weeping in idealistic love and ingenuity. That is seven words, but I’d really like to actually say “idealistic love” now that I think about it, because so much of my life is centered around my ideals for love even though so much of my life is also centered around my creative whims.

“Whimsical creativity and idealistic love battle!”

I like that one too, but that one sounds like a phrase and not a memoir. I’m centered in dissatisfied idealistic love...

Okay, I’m not sure which I like best anymore. You knew I couldn’t write just one! Which probably defeats the whole purpose...

I’m crying idealistic tears of creativity.

Whimsical creativity and idealistic love battle.

I’m centered in dissatisfied idealistic love.

Idealist is understating my imaginative nature.

I could probably roll these out for days now that I’ve begun. It’s really quite addictive. I invite you all to try to come up with your own now, and do leave them in my notes or guest book once you’ve thought of them.


Wednesday, June 25th 2008 at 3:41pm


I feel sick to my stomach.

I must be missing something here... What on earth am I doing wrong? I feel like the more things I do “right” the more wrong I am. I’ve been having sex with Crusifer everyday just like he wanted, I even woke him up to morning sex. I dressed up the way he likes when we went grocery shopping. I gave him plenty of affection. I held him all night. I asked what he wanted to do. I offered to braid his hair, which he refused. I offered sex with him again, and he refused. I feel so rejected. I feel invisible. I keep touching his hair and hugging him and he’s not pushing me away but it’s as though I’m not even there...

I told him that I wanted to feel close to him. I kissed him the way he says makes him “melt” and even that didn’t do anything. I feel completely helpless. I could be asleep or reading my book right now and it wouldn’t make a difference to him and it’s burning me up. This is so stupid! I feel like it’s all my fault. I must have said something or done something... He’s never like this without a reason, although sometimes he himself doesn’t even know what it is...

I want to cry, and scream and throw a fit, but that would make me feel terribly immature and it probably wouldn’t help at all. When he ignores me like this I feel like anything I do is inconsequential. Like if I were to clean the entire room he probably wouldn’t notice... Heck, that’s a good idea... What would he do if I just began cleaning obsessively? Probably nothing...

I don’t understand how last night he was so happy, so loving, so full of kisses and consideration for me, and how I do all the same things he likes so much today and I’m nobody! It doesn’t even make any sense... I don’t feel like doing a god damned thing. I did want to watch a movie with him. I was hungry. I did want to play Pharaoh while he played Gears of War, I did want to work on reformatting all the card-files for the board game (which I accidently made in a low resolution... *cries*)... I even wanted to fuck him. I was content to braid his hair. I would have done anything he pleased, but since he turned down me doing anything now I don’t want to do anything...

I measure myself in what he wants from me. The more he wants from me (and appreciates from me) the more I’m worth. When he doesn’t want or appreciate anything of me, then I am nothing. At least I can understand that, but I’ll be damned if I can change it.

(Mentally I’m punching my monitor and feeling the glass break on my knuckles and watching the glass fly around and my knuckles are bleeding down my arm... I’m opening the window and watching to see if Crusifer notices. I burst into tears... I hang myself part way out the window, fall, fall... Darkness... No one is with me... Would I ever do such ridiculous things? No. That’s why I’m sitting here writing, dry-eyed and fidgeting like mad.)

I suppose I’m going to start cleaning now. I shall start with the fridge. It needs cleaning pretty bad.


Wednesday, June 25th 2008 at 4:40pm


Interesting. It’s been exactly one hour.

In that hour I washed out the fridge throughly, took out the trash, put away the laundry, cleaned up the clothing area in general (put all dirty clothes in laundry and all left-out clothing that was still clean away), fixed our craft table, rinsed the sink, took some things out to the compost, took a couple dishes down to the kitchen and washed my face while I was there, straightened up the craft-table area next to the bed, put away the water bottles and washed off the top of our snack-station on wheels...

In this time I also touched Crusifer twice to scratch his head and have spoken to him about three time. I’ve received no response, verbal, physical or even a glance. I’m so confused as to what he could be upset about. I know for a fact that if I ask that he will claim nothing is wrong. Oh yeah? Then why is it then he only doesn’t acknowledge me when he’s upset about something? Like, is that supposed to be a coincidence?

I wonder if this has to do with drinking. Retarded as that sounds... Friday he worked overtime and hung out with “barbie gone emo” afterwards with her “fine as hell” friends and got home at 4:00am rather blazed. On Saturday his cousins were in town so he hung out with them, gave on of his broke-ass nigga cousins $40, drank his ass off, got home at five o’clock in the morning and passed out. I couldn’t sleep so I went for an early-morning bike ride Sunday morning around six o’clock in the morning.

Sunday I allowed him to drink, grudgingly because I want him to decide that he doesn’t need it in his life once and for all on his own. He didn’t do anything “not nice” on Sunday, so I noted that if he asked next Sunday I’d allow it again. Monday I realized my period was going thin and decided to break the sex-fast early because I realized that I wanted it almost as much as he, and he was delighted. Tuesday, (yesterday) though he said it wasn’t necessary I had sex with him again, keeping to my word about every single day that I’m able...

(I need to learn to spell necessary. I spell it wrong every time and need to correct it. Ne Cess Ary... Ne Cess Ary... Ne Cess Ary! Necessary... Now, without looking... Necessary...! Yeah!)

And then, felling inspired, at six o’clock in the morning I woke him up to riding him, to his delight. We both were well satisfied and went to sleep afterwards. We get up this morning, and at first he’s all nice to me, and affectionate as he has been... And then we go to get groceries, and we hurried because Mom needed to car to pick up Dad so we had to be back before four o’clock. He was fine on the way there in the car I think... Though if I think back he seemed a little agitated then though I didn’t pay much mind...

In the grocery store he wasn’t as affectionate as usual... Then in the check-out lane as I’m trying persistently to get him to pay attention to me (I’m out in public in lingerie for goodness sakes, he could at least pay me some mind) and he asks me, “Can I get a couple beers today?”

I thought for a moment and I said, “but it Wednesday...” I said, a little uneasy by him asking again so soon. “But I’ll be good,” he said. I thought about that doubtfully since he was paying more attention to the magazines than me. “Yeah, but that would make three times in only four days...”

He frowned, “How is that?”

I sighed, “Friday you got home at 4:00am, Saturday you drank and got home at 5:00am, and Sunday I allowed you to drink... Can’t you at least wait until next Sunday?”

“How about I don’t drink Sunday then?”

I looked at him, angrily. Come to think of it, he’s barely spoken a word to me since. We road in silence most of the way home. On the way into the house I kissed him, and he said, “come on, let’s go,” instead of kissing me back. I was the one holding a bag of groceries when I leaned to kiss him, but he was empty-handed and didn’t reach for me at all. When we got upstairs I went to hug him and give him a kiss again, thinking surely now that we’re home and in our room he’ll stop being so distant, and I was completely wrong because he said, “It’s hot, I’m trying to take my clothes off.”

Disgruntled I waited for him to take off his clothes and then pulled him to the bed and pulled him down on top of me and kissed him again the way that he says he likes so much... I never used to kiss so much before him, nor did I ever do the things I do with him like sucking on the lips, and using my tongue in such intricate and deliberate movements... Nothing was working. He kissed back, in the most empty-hearted way and still didn’t touch me despite all of my touching of him.

At this point I’m completely desperate for affection so I’m grinding on him, and kissing him deeply and moaning... (Clearly that’s a sexual invitation!) And he pulls away and starts playing with his hair. Distressed, I asked, “Don’t you want me?”

“Want you how? You could mean a zillion different things by that!”

I rolled my eyes, “I clearly want to have sex with you. Why don’t you want me?”

“Maybe later,” he says.

At that point I’m on the verge of rage, but I turn around my approach and start touching his hair (since that is what he is doing) and then I go to braid it, since he requested that I braid his hair today. He said, “no don’t braid it.”

“Why not?” I asked, feeling worse and worse by the moment.

“I don’t want to walk around with my hair half-braiding looking stupid all day.”

I swallowed my anger yet again. (I probably should explain that I’m no good at braiding hair, but a few days ago I braided some of his hair for the fun of it, just to be taken out again in the morning, and his hair curled up in a way that he liked after it was taken out so I’ve been braiding it every night or so as far as I could get before my fingers hurt from the process. He says he enjoys how it feels when I do it and that he likes how it looks when he pulls it out, and it’s good practice and exercise for me.)

He doesn’t want sex, he doesn’t want to be groomed, he doesn’t want affection, he doesn’t want attention, and he also doesn’t want to give anything to me. What do you do with a person who won’t give or receive! And even now, at five o’clock now he’s sitting next to me, ignoring me entirely digitally painting. That’s all well and good that he is digitally painting, but come on. It’s been twelve hours since he last paid me mind at five in the morning when we had sex.

I’m beginning to analyze everything I can looking for an answer... Did I not thank him for the cup of tea he made me? I thought I said something appreciative of it. Is he this upset because he’s not drinking right now? Would he ignore me just because he’s not drinking! It makes me so angry and so desperate. I want to go buy him a goddamned drink so he’ll pay attention to me and I also want to smack him for being so silly!

I’m sitting here in this bran-new lingerie dress that is completely transparent with a transparent lace bra that he insisted I have when he saw it at Target, and I’ve been in it since I first woke. I even cleaned wearing it, and walked around Wegmans in it, and I’m still fucking invisible! It makes me so angry I could just burst.

I feel like if only I could do something more, or if only I said or did something differently today then he’d notice me. I’m so sick of being ignored. The rest of the world already ignores me for my age, or my sex, or my race, or my background. The last thing I need is for the center of my world to ignore me too!

It’s not bloody fair at all! I do anything he asks and all I want is some god damned affection and attention and I’ll be bloody damned if I ever get it for more than a couple hours here and there... I feel like half the time we touch each other is during sex, maybe more. I hate being nothing but a damned sex object. $60 groceries today, and sometimes they’re $100 a week, and now and then I get new lingerie and I give out all the services he wants! What am I? A cheap fucking whore?

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Desire vs. Lust

Monday, June 23rd 2008 at 7:25pm


I just watched an episode of the Tyra show that touched on a very controversial topic that very deeply affects me. The show centered around how difficult life is for a black woman in modern society, and myself, being a white woman, you’d think that this wouldn’t have an effect on me, but it does.

I have rather strong opinions when it comes to racial stereotypes and especially strong opinions about interracial relationships and even friendships. For me, black women have been one of the largest obstacles in my life. I feel like black women actually make life difficult for the average white woman, and that by no means do we deserve the treatment we often get.

Growing up in a neighborhood that is predominately black (to the point where I don’t see anyone white at the corner gas station except me) I often find myself the object of ridicule and hatred. If this is some remnant of slavery it doesn’t have anything to do with me. If I was offered a position somewhere in the world where I was given slaves I’d ensure that they instead were to be paid for their work and given the option to stay and work for pay or leave as they please.

Slavery is actually another topic I have strong opinions about. I don’t see it as such an awful thing for black people to have been brought her from Africa to work. That, in itself, has nothing wrong with it. It’s the fact that it was done by force, and that they were underfed, and not paid at all that made it a terrible thing. However, jews have gone through much worse tribulation, and many other races have also been victimized, so to single out black people as the victim is just ridiculous. Beyond that, there is no longer any slavery in America, and therefore that should not be a just cause for a white person (male or female) to be targets with such harsh actions.

Speaking from experience, it’s terrifying to have a black woman come at you. I avoid black women in my life because they honestly scare me. They’re so loud, and so quick to fight, and they take comments meant in a conversational way to be meant in a hostile way. The last thing I need in my life is to come to blows with a black woman in my neighborhood. I probably wouldn’t survive. I’m physically weak, and have no fighting experience, whereas they (clearly) are much stronger than I and quick to hostility which leads me to believe they’ve been in many fights.

The entire audience on this episode of the Tyra show was black women, and just watching it made me feel uncomfortable. If I had been there in person I would have been terrified, and yet I wish I could have been there so I could speak up for my beliefs. For one thing, no one said anything about one of the main reasons why black women have trouble getting paid as much or why they have trouble getting high-paying jobs where white people are dominant.

I personally believe that it’s speech. The white race in this country came from England, and we speak English. Ebonics (sp?) is not English. “Anit got no need to speak all proper fo nobody,” is not an attitude which will get anybody a job under a white boss. It doesn’t sound attractive and it doesn’t look attractive to speak that way. A statistic was revealed that 73% of inter-racial relationships are between a black man and a white woman. All that was said about why this might be was that black woman don’t “take care of their men” the way white women do. Honestly, I can’t speak for that from a racial standpoint because I have no idea what black women do and don’t do for their men. I do know however that the new age of women isn’t interested in men, they’re interested in work and money.

I know this because every woman under the age of thirty-five that I’ve met has told me that I have to get a job and support myself before I should worry about a man. They tell me I’m a “gold digger” or that I’m lazy, or that being “old fashioned” is just a myth to cover up my inability or my laziness. I think that is just plain stupid. It used to be that women were not valued for their ideas when they had so much more time to think, (while the kids were in bed or with the nanny and while the husband was at work) and now that women are valued for their thoughts we’re expected to take care of the kids and work! I personally will stand by my desire to home-school my children no matter what.

Back to my topic however. Many of these black women claim that we’re stealing their men. And beyond that, we’re stealing the “good” ones. No one on the show pointed out why that is either. Partly it’s the speech I’m sure. A “good” black man doesn’t want to hear that sort of speech anymore than a white man does, and beyond that a “good” black man wants a “good” woman. What’s a good woman? What’s a good man? In my opinion, a good man has a work ethic, is polite and generous, cares about world affairs, and cares about making their woman happy, and a good woman wants to do everything she can for her children, is polite and generous, cares about world affairs and will do everything to please their man.

In short, they’re educated. So many young people can’t even read anymore. When a black person chooses to not learn how to read then they are choosing to stay slaves. Some people might be appalled at such a statement, but I have met at least four black people in my life who were over the age of fifteen who couldn’t read and who had no interest in learning, and even worse, they were proud of it! A smart black man doesn’t want a woman who can’t read, that’s for sure. A nice black man doesn’t want a woman who is always getting into fights. A man who is interested in self improvement doesn’t want a woman who is content to stay in the same shallow line of thought forever.

I like educated black men. They seem so much more passionate to me, and having soft large lips is a plus too. It might also be the broken stereotype that I’m attracted to. Intelligent speech coming from a black person is very compelling to me...

I seem to be drawing a black from there. What really does make a smart black man so much more appealing that a smart white man? Perhaps it’s because it’s very hard for a black man to seem like a dork. And being a dork is not attractive, while being smart is. That’s probably why I lost my virginity to Nathan. He wasn’t a dork, but his intellect was compelling. While I’ve never dated anyone who wasn’t intelligent, none of them were dorks, unless you count one week with a guy named Mike, who I never slept with and in the end, didn’t like being around at all.

Sometimes I do feel guilty for dating nothing but black men since I was fourteen. When my Dad casually said to me over a year ago “you seem to be having a lot of salt and pepper relationships” I was stung. Why would he say that to me? Is he angry because I would rather date a black man than a white man like himself? Is his sudden interest in clubbing with young black men related to me? He did start that around the same time I started dating them... Is he trying to understand my taste?

It’s really not the appearance as much as I talk about appearances. Yes, the appearance (not so much the size, honestly) of the dick and the size of the lips do hold something to be said, but it’s something other than that. I do see attractive white men too from time to time, and in reality I see an attractive black man as often as I see an attractive white man... So what is it really?

As much as I’ve analyzed myself, I’ve never really come to a whole conclusion on that matter. I say that black men seem to be more passionate, and less dorky... But the type of black man I like has got to be more rare than a passionate and smart white man who isn’t a dork. I’m really at a loss for a good reason that makes perfect sense. Maybe it’s more about how I feel about myself... Maybe I don’t feel like I belong with a white man because of who I am? Logically that makes no sense, but emotionally I feel a small click from that.

I suddenly find that I have a headache. Thinking about this is actually rather difficult.


Tuesday, June 24th 2008 at 6:43am


I mustn’t be quite so emotional sometimes. Crusifer, despite his lacks is a fine catch. He’s completely willing to do what it takes to make things work, and if I am too blind to see when he is hurt (and vengeful only because of it) then I’m being no better.

Most of our issues stem from both of us being hurt at the same time, which makes us both insensitive to the other’s needs. For me to be reproachful of his actions after I’ve said something to him that he took as condescending or something that was borne of my own momentary scorn. How can I consider his indignation any less of importance than my own?

I find my earlier thoughts completely reversed all over again. And not just by way of mending to how I was previously... I truly have grown new love for him. You see, when we made the “all or nothing” deal, which meant that we would both give to each other to our fullest of potential that meant that every single day in which I was capable of having sex with him (if I don’t have cramps, soreness, an infection or extreme exhaustion) that I would. In return, he would give all the affection and attention I desire in whatever way I desire.

Oddly all this sex has made me feel closer to him as it’s made him feel closer to me. I now feel that sex is affection, just like he feels about it. I’ve grown to feel that way about it so quickly and so completely that I was deeply distressed by having cramps that prevented us from having sex making his not able to come home (from doing an over-time tattoo) and not greeting me (from his excitement over meeting more customers) all the more unbearable.

Today, while I could have shed the sex on the excuse that it’s still only the third day of my period I proclaimed that I was fine and that I wanted to have sex, because, well, I did. I find this an extraordinary development which makes me wonder at my desire’s real roots. Desire is so completely unrelated to lust. Lust is some manifestation caused by either excess hormones or something external that is highly arousing. But plain desire that is not so lusty, that outlasts a boner and outlasts a sudden burst of wetness is something altogether different. Desire is this deep contentment that wishes to further itself through the closeness of intercourse...

Desire comes from love and affinity and contentment. Needing outside sources to stimulate lust therefore, means there is a lack of the emotions that breed desire. This would help explain cheating, porn and the overuse of sexuality in today’s culture. What’s odd is that I didn’t read that anywhere, though it seems to ring truth. What I felt when I was going through puberty was lust borne of racing hormones. Now that those are gone I will likely only ever feel aroused through peaceful and graceful desire, which is pretty much fine by me.

I feel incredibly at ease right now. I don’t really need anyone besides Crusifer in my life right now, unless you count my parents who still help to provide the freedoms that I enjoy. I have to remember that while love is most important to me, being able to sleep and wake as I wish is a privilege worthy of merit. Crusifer is supporting me though he’s not my husband yet, and I think that ought to sport more of his character than his hastily said words while he was either upset or drunk.

Currently I’m dealing with his drinking by allowing it as long as he remains civil. It’s come to the point where I see now that his behavior really has little to do with the drink but with his friends and how they make him behave. The person he is that has adapted to them, “Cav,” is entirely unsuitable behavior for a husband or father, and because that’s what I wish him to be, Cav makes me angry. He always says that if he had children that he would be different. I’ve taken these words with a grain of salt, but he’s always clung to that: When he’s a husband he won’t go out.

That in consideration it also is worthy of note that he claims going out is always a disappointment. His cousins behaved as “bitch ass niggas” which was not a surprising report to me. He was distressed by their continued ignorance, but that also was no surprise. I said to him, “They’re just like you’re co-workers. They have no craft and therefore they can not respect someone who has worked hard for their craft. They’re idols bust guns and smack hoes, and because you’ll never be bustin’ guns or keeping your pimp hand strong they will never respect you for you. You are an artist, but to them all they see is that you are not driving a pimp car with rims. They only respect people for being better at being ass-holes than they themselves are. They want you to fuck other people over too, and to respect you for it, you have to do it better than they do. They won’t change Crusifer.”

He reports that his cousins are in and out of jail, and that several family members have recently died and undue ages and that they’re all doing drugs, and that most of them don’t have jobs. He’s disappointed in them, but because his cousins are the family he grew up with he feels like he has to be loyal to them. His brother is his step-brother and his father is his step-father and his mother doesn’t approve of his job or his chosen life and while he loves his mother to death they’re not always at ease around each other. And despite how much he loves his brother, he’s in the service rarely is in Buffalo. I like his brother a lot and wish he was around. He’s clearly intelligent and has his head on straight, unlike his cousins who are just as bad as any random people who bought weed off of Tre. That lot of people were a sorry bunch.

Anyway, in conclusion, I think Crusifer and I can work things out.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Thirst

Saturday, June 21st 2008 at 10:45pm


I’m so sick of crying. Last night Crusifer stayed to work overtime on a tattoo... He called me ahead of time to let me know. I was upset, especially when he said he was going to smoke a blunt with the customer afterwards. He told me when he got home how hot this girl was. He told me...;

“Yo babe, I think I got a girl friend.”

“You what?!?!” I exclaimed.

“Not like that.”

“I don’t want to hear that in any form.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I said, I don’t want to hear that in any form!”

“But babe, I just got mad connections just now. This fine as hell bitch comes in the shop today with three other fine as hell chicks,” he makes this little gesture he does where he touches his nose with one finger and then brushes it, I’m not sure why he does it, or where it comes from, but I know it’s like purposely blushing or along those lines. “She wanted a tattoo and as I was tattooing her she got to talking and she starts telling me how she’s in an open relationship. I did one of those tut numbers, because I know how that is. He’s sleeping with other girls but she hasn’t slept with anyone yet. I asked her if she wanted to get laid, and she said that she did.”

As he’s telling me this he’s getting undressed in the area of the room that I can’t see from the bed where I’m lying. I keep waiting for him to greet me and kiss me and tell me how he misses me, but without any input he continues.

“She was like preppy, but not that preppy. She had this sort of emo thing going on, not that she was gothed out or anything... She was just fine as hell, like... She was like a barbie, but she was emo though. Anyway, I asked her why she wasn’t getting laid even though she wanted to get laid and she said she doesn’t tell the guys she likes that she likes them, she wants them to figure it out. So I was like, ‘oh, you’re one of those chicks’ and she was like ‘what do you mean by that?’”

I say, “Baby?” Hoping to prompt him to greet me and touch me to stop talking about her, but after a moment of silence he says, “She was like Barbie gone emo, but not emo gone Barbie if you know what I mean. She was like one those chicks. Anyway, I got done tattooing her and then her friend wanted to get tattooed too. She was tattooed before by Cory Cudney so I was feeling pretty good. Like they were tattooed by him but she wanted to get a tattoo from me after seeing my stuff.”

I sigh and give up on him paying any notice to me. After another silence he says, “She was fine as hell though. Like she was really thin, and she was so pale, like you think you’re pale, you should have seen how pale she is. You would definitely think she’s hot. She was like Barbie gone emo.”

“You said that,” I said, getting extremely annoyed.

“Oh. Well, yeah, all her friends wanted to get tattooed by me too. And I saw (insert some name I forgot here) on the way home too, he gave me a slim-jim. Man, I’m coming up on Elmwood. I want everyone to know me. Like Hardcore wasn’t even all-like-that before I was there and now people who wouldn’t get tattooed there, get tattooed there by me.”

Still, no greeting, no hug, no kiss. All the happiness in me drains out of me and I listen despairingly as he continues, repeating himself often.

“And not just anybody either, I mean, this chick was fine as hell. And she asked for my number and of course I had to give it to her.”

“No you didn’t have to,” I muttered, but I don’t think he heard me.

“Like I just swooned her.”

“You did what?!?!”

“I swooned her, cause like she was mad fine.”

“Why would you do that? You’re encouraging her?” I say incredulously.

“No, no, of course not. It’s just flattering, you’d do it too.”

“I most certainly would not swoon anyone but you!”

“Yeah right, like you don’t get all happy when guys flatter you. You’re a woman so you wouldn’t understand. Women always get attention. I’m a man so it’s cool to me when a girl takes notice of me. It’s flattering you know. Cause she was mad hot and like emo, but Barbie though.”

“That’s like the third time you’ve said that now. And I don’t get flattered, and even if I did I wouldn’t come home bragging about it. You wouldn’t like it if I did.”

“Yeah, but you’re a woman. Let me put it this way, I have a lot more to worry about than you do.”

“Yeah right!” I exclaimed. “You’re at work tattooing every single fucking day. You tattoo mad fine fucking bitches all the fucking time! And you said so your self, even your fucking boss wants to fuck you!”

At this point I roll over and face away from him even though he’s walked into view. He crawls onto the bed and kisses my neck and says, “But I just got mad connections though.”

“I don’t fucking care about your connections!” I spat. This is the part where I messed up. I should have rolled over and kisses him back and told him how I felt earnestly but instead I just lost it. Instead of confronting the wrong I felt he had done, I added my own wrong to the picture by discounting his happiness, discounting his long-awaiting affection and discounting his socializing to further his career and lied about my own feelings on a level even though I didn’t care at that moment.

He abruptly pulls away and adds onto the pile of wrong-doings of the night by saying, “You think you don’t care about my connections, but what do you think is going to support us? You just go find some other man who has connections and then call me and let me know when you’ve found him and tell me you understand then!”

Of course this statement didn’t really make sense but I understood what he meant. His connections are something I should care about, and of course I do. Not so much because it’s important but because I care about everything he does. However his relationship with me, is so much more important to me. I didn’t want to hear about the chick he’d been with for the last three hours, tattooing her and then smoking a blunt with her when he could have been home with me, especially not before he even greets me.

The whole ordeal was only really a minor set-back and we eventually worked it out, but after a lot of crying and acting the fool on my part...

Today, ironically Jeremy visited me. Two weeks ago, when I was about ready to leave Crusifer, I was dying for Jeremy to visit me so that I could evaluate that possibility if it even was one. Today I saw that while I could ask him back out, it probably wouldn’t work. I’m not the same girl he was so crazy about, and my perspective is so different that he doesn’t seem like all that he was to me then. I feel a very sisterly-brotherly love for him. It’s obvious he feels a much more lustful love for me. We both dream about each other which is interesting, but not surprising really.

I kept trying to engage in an interesting conversation with him, but I realize now that we never got to talking about much of anything interesting. We’re both to distracted by who we are and what we used to be when we were together that it’s hard to talk about anything else. We don’t have recent memories together so we always go back to the common ground of what we did have. As I’ve said a zillion times, I wish dearly that I could be his friend, but I know that’s beyond impossible.

This is the first time seeing him again in probably three months. I see Tina only about twice as much, and that about ends the people I try to keep in touch with. I keep trying to talk to Will online, mostly out of courtesy for the friendship he’s offered me on many occasions. He was there to talk to when I was down and out. The truth is though that there seems to be nobody I can have easy conversation with but Crusifer, and even that sometimes seems strained. It’s wonderful and everything to be able to talk to my mother but nothing can change the dramatic age gap and the determined rolls of mother and daughter which will forever limit our conversations’ content.

I hope Jeremy saw no pity in my eyes when I looked at him, but I’m afraid he did because he said to me, “why do you keep looking at me like that?” And I said, “like what?” and he said, “the way you’re looking at me now which makes me feel so stupid.”

I laughed and determinedly looked at him in a silly way. He was also surprised when I said fluently without being conscious of the statements origins, “what the fruit cup?” in response to something he said or did, though I forgot what it was. I got that expression from him and never lost it.

He stayed for perhaps two hours. He wouldn’t have stayed so long but I told him he couldn’t go after only just showing up and did my typical move for when I don’t want someone to leave: I hide something that belongs to them. I hid his ipod. So as he was looking for it (mostly to be funny) I hid his shoes, and while he was looking for those I hid his hoodie. It made for more interesting interacting that the goofy faces and small talk we were having.

After I gave him his things back perhaps half an hour later we both opened our mouths and took a breath as if to say something at the same moment. We both didn’t speak, waiting for the other, and I said, “you first,” and then, before I could blink he snuck in a kiss – a quick peck to the lips. I was rather stunned, because it was so unexpected and so ironic after all the complaining I had done last night about Crusifer smoking a blunt with that chick.

I told Jeremy about last night’s happenings and the irony of it. He seemed embarrassed for having done it, but leaned towards me as if to look for something more. “I can’t,” I said. “I don’t like being a hypocrite, and I also don’t like feeling guilty.” This of course didn’t prevent him from getting a few gropes before he left, and somehow I do feel guilty anyway. I know that if Crusifer watched our interactions he would have been just as upset (if not more so) than I would have been if I could have watched him last night with that emo chick.

At least I wasn’t swooning anybody, and at least this is like a once in forever thing, and I’m hanging around a bunch of “hot” guys. So why do I feel like a hypocrite anyway?

This whole jealousy thing keeps getting worse for me. I don’t know how to stop the feelings I get every time I hear about or think about Crusifer and his profession. Tattoos in private places is bad enough, and so is smoking with customers, but doing it on my time and then coming home and bragging about it is more than I can handle. Sometimes I feel like he’s doing it just to make me jealous because of his insecurities.

And if all of this wasn’t enough weighing on my mind, now he’s probably not coming home again tonight because his cousin is in town. I feel bad for making it such a big deal for him to hang out with his cousin, but I feel like it’s so unfair that he should get to go out and have a good time with his cousins when I’m stuck here, lonely, on my period, with cramps, feeling like shit, missing him, after waiting for him and thinking about him all day long. I thought I said it in jest when I said to Jeremy, “Crusifer probably won’t even be home until four o’clock in the morning again. I’m lucky if I ever see that nigga!”

That was in response to Jeremy telling me about his new work schedule which has him working more hours than Crusifer. 8:00am to 8:00pm Mondays through Saturdays. Pretty crazy, huh? I feel bad for him. Mordern work is bull shit.

Now he isn’t going to be coming home tonight either. I’m so sick of this dance. If I’m not doing this dance with Crusifer then I’m doing the longer dance of hopping from man to man, and if it’s not that dance then it’s the lonely one. I feel like that of the three options this has to be the better one. He does love me, he is trying and he is providing for me... But I’m so fucking sick of being alone.





Thirst


How many do you know?

That are going with the flow?

How many do you know?

That don’t know where to go?


How many, are ready?

How many, are steady?


How many started great?

How many were fate?

How many ended late?

How many are yet to state?


I just want to shout. I just want to pout.

I just want to yell. I just want to tell...


All the lovers in the land,

all the people holding hands,

all the famous and their fans,

all the ladies and their mans...


I just want to scream. I just want to dream.

I just want to yell. I just want to tell...


Everyone and anyone,

that it’s not as hard as they think,

that everything changes in a blink,

that you don’t have to circle, the same small rink!


Break traditions and the fads,

Ladies don’t leave your lads,

Guys don’t get so mad,

and stop making your lover sad.


It’s simple don’t you see?

I’m so sure that you will agree.

Because love is loud and free,

strong and sturdy as a tree.


I know that you’ve been hurting,

and I know that you’ve been burning.

You suffer from a great and terrible thirst,

but all you need to do; is put your love first.



By Atara

Sunday, June, 22nd 2008, 3:30am





Sunday, June 22nd 2008 at 5:40am


I shouldn’t be surprised, and I guess I’m not. He drank. He arrived at five in the morning. He passed out before five thirty. He didn’t say he was sorry, or that he missed me, or that it was a mistake. All he said was, “I forgot” and “I love you.” I beyond tears. I’m just cold and empty for now. I plan on going on a very early bike ride shortly. But it’s so early that I thought I’d wait a little longer.

Crusifer, as usual, when passed out doesn’t move at all once he’s asleep. He won’t notice I’ve left the bed for hours, if at all before he wakes up. The lights being on don’t bother him, nor does the clacking of this key board, or the noises I made while getting dressed.

He left the fridge open. He does the stupidest things when he’s drunk. I haven’t left a fridge door open since I was like a child. And that was mostly because our old fridge, before the fire, was bootleg as hell. He also poured himself this huge bowl of “munchies” from the downstairs kitchen when he has all these snacks up here just for him. I swear, I should stop wasting my time buying all his favorite nuts and snacks and bagging them for him. If it were my son I’d just make him eat it since he asked for it, but since it’s my “fiancĂ©” there is little point in doing anything but stopping.

I wish it was eight o’clock in the morning instead of not yet six o’clock. Then I could feel like there was something to do with myself. I most certainly can’t sleep, and I’m all dressed to go biking. I barely know why I want to go bike... I just want to leave because I feel so left. Is that revenge? I am that petty? Surely the real reason is that I want to feel free and the wind and stuff... Am I hoping to run into someone? If I was, I don’t know who’d it be since nobody will be out at this time in the morning...

Crusifer has ruined our Sunday and it’s barely even begun. For what? So he could hang out with his drunken cousins? What a disgusting waste. He doesn’t know it, but I told myself that after three strikes after this “all or nothing” deal I’d call it quits for good and for sure. This is strike two... And it’s been... Two weeks? Pathetic! Why am I bothering?

I’m so deeply engrossed with someone who just won’t see me for me... It’s stupid and yet I feel so obligated to give one more fucking chance. Again, and again and again... Just like with Tre, until I was sure. This is so freaking stupid! I want to rip my own veins out of my arms, but I’m rather timid for such an ambition... Too timid to do anything other than imagine it vividly with a sour expression on my face. What useless masochism! (As Erica Jong would say...)

This should be the beginning of my own book about me, starring my dobblegander (sp?) with some nifty name...


Novel Draft


Kasandra paces back and forth on the floor, too angry to cry and too depressed to be truly angry. Was anyone going to ever love her? Was she cursed? Where did she go wrong? Was it on the phone earlier that day when she said that it wasn’t fair for him to go out with his cousins while she stayed at home alone? Was it last week when she gave him (yet again) another undeserved chance at marriage? Was it when she proposed to him in the first place five months ago on their year anniversary? Perhaps she just went wrong before the entire relationship consummated itself with a lusty sex on the first night they met? Perhaps it was rooted in the last ex, or the one before that? Maybe, just maybe, if she had been a better woman (like the woman she’s sure she must be by now) back where she was first in love, then maybe none of this would have happened.

Certainly she’s paying for something she’s done wrong four years ago, like when she cheated on her first love with lonely and desperate tears in her eyes. If one minute of sex before you dismount and break down in tears can really be considered cheating...

Kasandra waits for him to get home like a dog waiting for their master, or a cat waiting for food, like a toddler waiting to be picked up. She’s impulsive in her desire and anguish. She takes out her energy dancing wildly to recorded music videos for a time. When this loses it’s interest she reads the end of a book she’s been reading, then she goes on to play a PC game on his laptop next to the bed. When all of this has failed in pleasing her, failed in distracting her, failed in occupying her until he finally arrives, she settles at about three thirty in the morning in front of the TV with a unopened bag of Kettle chips; Salt & Vinegar flavored.

After consuming the chips and an entire episode of the Tyra Banks show she’s still just as unhappy, undistracted and alone as she was one hour previously. All occupations thus having failed her she begins to doodle. She’s still doodling when finally the drunk Mardarous arrives at five o’clock in the morning. She’s too angry to look up, and too cold to even cry. This scene has repeated in collideiscope of past nights and early mornings, only usually there are more tears. She’s losing hope to the point where even tears give no solace.

One might think that a year and half was a period of time too short to become to immensely attached, but then again, one might not know Kasandra.


That’s a little something of how I want the book to go. Something I can write, something I can get into, something that is relatable and such... It ought to start with tonight.










Sunday, June 22nd 2008 at 6:38pm


In a primitive society there isn’t a lot of time to think. Get up in the morning, and cook breakfast, which in itself requires making the fire, getting cooking stones hot, gathering water, etc. Say that takes an hour, and perhaps longer if there are kids to watch after. Then there is hunting, which takes hours of planning and practice, and hours to make the weapons, and then the actual process which takes hours of stalking which may not even lead to a catch. Foraging is all well as good, but not sustaining enough in a small community which can’t mass-produce fruits and vegetables.

Time not spent hunting would be used to make clothing, starting with skinning the animal, and cleaning the fur. The entire process of preparing a fur can take days with cleaning, stretching, and smoking. This was more than enough work for a man and a woman to be kept busy from dawn until dusk for eternity.

Farms and cities began to change that, allowing for entertainment, such as they had in Egyptian, Roman and Sumerian empires. However, when enough inventions come along, and enough wealth can be provided there is allowed to be a higher class of people that may become educated. This is a privilege and not to be taken lightly, because those few that may become educated come up with the new ideas that allow for the growing world population to continue to prosper and grow.

As terrible as slavery is, the slaves in many ancient empires allowed their masters the leisure to think. Being allowed to think gives us the opportunity to conceive great ideas to bring us forward into a new generation, a new century, a new era. For example, if Benjamin Franklin had been born into a more primitive society where he had to hunt and gather for food, or if he had been too busy being entertained after a long day’s work then electricity may never have been found. Of course, it may have still happened, but who can be sure?

Electricity is what allows so many millions of us to sit on our tails and think and for us to have an education. Electricity allows the mass production that brings us cheap clothing (we don’t have to work for days and days on one garment as we would have if we were starting with fur on an animal), and cheap food (instead of gathering ourselves, or planting ourselves factories do half the work for us), and cheap housing (instead of us building our homes big machines and specialized workers do it) and so on. Without all these inventions we’d have a lot less time. What’s funny is that we feel like we don’t have much time as is!

Perhaps “me-time” is addictive, because just a couple thousand years ago “me-time” didn’t exist for much of anybody. Survival was all there was. The problem with this development is that it’s grinding to a halt. We have so much freedom, and so much cheap junk, and so much education and opportunities that today’s generation is taking it all for granted. It’s the obligation of those who have time to think to be able to use that time in a productive way for their own sake, and the sake of their children and community. Unfortunately free time is often spent on partying, drugs, small-talk, gossip, fashion, relaxing, TV, and websites like Myspace.

In contrast to a couple hundred years ago... Education was coveted, and books were valuable. Now that everyone can write a book there tends to be less and less content worth reading! Now that books are everywhere there are less and less readers! Anybody notice the size of Reader’s Digest? The poor magazine is half the size it used to be! I suspect this is due to a lack of funding because of a lack of subscriptions rooted in a lack of education in the new working generation.

The deepest problem with this trend is the lack of invention. Today as I walked through Target I realized that everything I saw was something I’d seen before with a new color on it, or a new print, or a cut just slightly different. There was nothing new and innovative to be seen. Nothing is unique or hand-made and nothing is of the type of quality that it could be. Hence why we buy so many products that don’t work, or break shortly thereafter buying them.

Point-blank being that all this time we have to think and all this free education is all for nothing. We’re not making good enough use of any of our resources or capabilities.

To further my point, take prescription drugs for example. Aside from antibiotics which is an incredible discovery that changed life as we know it by turning things like strep-throat from deadly to a week of discomfort. If you take the other medications into consideration however, like drugs that combat the side affects of ADD or ADHD or pain pills, you’ll find a bunch of products that are worthless at their core.

Why are they worthless? Because studies (not acclaimed by our incompetent government) show that ADD is reversible through the practices of functional medicine. We need to take the path away from the diagnoses. Correlation does not mean causation (as an old friend recently reminded me). Which means that just because two people have a runny nose does not mean they have it for the same reason. This is a simple one to say, because we all know there is a difference between allergies and having a cold. But what about if two people have flaky scalp? Would you say they both have it for the same reason? You could be bloated from eating or from cramps. You could have a headache from noise or from lack of sleep. You could have pimples from puberty or from oily skin or from a disagreeable diet.

These are things that everyone knows, so why do we assume that just because two or three symptoms line up that it is what they say it is. The way the system works now is like taking aspirin to cure a nail through the foot. And that sad fact is that this is known to the researchers, the scientists and many doctors, but it’s not acknowledged.

Studies have shown that many “conditions” like diabetes and attention-deficit-disorder can be eliminated through dietary changes. This means that for many people (perhaps most but not all) their prescriptions are a waste of money and not needed. Think of the money put into the research of these drugs, the money put into the production of them, the selling of them, the insurance companies that help pay for them, the people who work in pharmacies selling them when so many of them are worthless junk.

This should be common knowledge but education is slipping, and so is research. Our entire network of systems that makes the world run is collapsing in on itself and I feel like nobody else can see it.