flattery will get you everywhere

s.o.s.

I made a rescue call to Rob yesterday. It was actually an email telling him I needed a hug. It had been a lousy week where I let my stress get the better of me. I decided I needed a night of major diversion cuz I'd been driving myself much too hard.

So when I got home from work, I dodged my usual routine. I threw together grilled cheese sandwiches and Campbell's tomato soup for dinner (awesome for dippin!), hopped into a hot bath, and completely ignored the dirty dishes and my laptop. Both homework and Andy got temporarily ditched. Then I poured myself a shot.

Rob called around 7:30 and came over. Christie had gone out so there as plenty of peace and quiet. I immediately took a hug, a long one. I was proud of myself for not crying in that moment of relief. To be honest, it felt like the love and comfort of a dad (that I never had). I really needed it. It's just plain nice to be cared for and held.

I went back for seconds, and thirds. The longer I stayed, the more TLC came my way. Rob's most defining factor (well, maybe 2nd most defining) is his ability and desire to stroke my hair endlessly. It's a rarity in a man, and it's something I always appreciated about him. I soaked it all in as a healing treatment. I finally relaxed and felt unburdened for the first time in weeks.

All the while Rob's hoping I will lie on the couch with him, I resist. He thought I was silly kneeling there on the floor with my head on his chest. I eventually hoisted myself up onto the couch alongside him, but left one leg planted on the floor. Very Lucy-like in my ways, feeling a need to play it safe and respect the relationship I've chosen. For anyone who's lost track, that means Andy!

Rob left by 10pm when I had to go pick Christie up. I was thankful for his love and support, and he was glad to give it. He is a true friend, and that is true love...when he can give to me unconditionally, knowing I can't return his love it in the way he would like. We are connected at a soul level and probably always will be.

s.a.d.

I'm freaking out these days with a darkness that keeps creeping in where there used to be light. Except for the case of my hair which is getting lightter by the day--what's with these grey intruders? Seems I've had a rapid onset of aging in the last week. Frown lines included.

Man! I'm finding myself so stressed every night that I just wanna cry. I am feeling tired of working so damn hard. From bouncing out of bed at 6am to walk the dog to driving 45 mins to work, toiling my ass off for 8.5 hrs, then 45 mins back home so I can cook dinner, and sometimes do the dishes and laundry. Then I spend some time either on homework or skyping with Andy (my one daily pleasure besides sleep).

And before you know it, it's 10pm and I am petered out. This is my life.

Usually I can handle it fine cuz I am a planner and a doer. I accomplish more in a day than the average person does in a week. But I am now PMSing. And with the days getting shorter (darker), I'm taking my vitamin D, but it sure doesn't seem to be warding off the S.A.D.

I should be happy. My ex finally agreed yesterday to pay for our divorce. And Andy's coming for a visit next week. I am healthy (despite these fall blues) and have an exciting new life to look forward to. So wtf?

fears down, guilt to go

I've had so many fears in my life, most of which I have overcome in the last 3 years. Maybe not 'so many', but even if you have 1 or 2, they feel all-consuming when all you want is a peaceful life.

I used to be scared of travelling. I used to be scared of puking. I used to be scared of flying. I used to be scared of speaking in public. I used to be scared to discuss difficult issues with people.

Now I enjoy travelling which has pretty much opened up the world to me. I cannot imagine a life spent in or around one's hometown when places like Santorini, Paris and NYC are begging to be seen, touched, tasted, and felt.

I went about 18 years without puking, then I puked 3 times within 2 weeks, oh, about a month ago. No biggie, really. I wondered what's the big deal?

And flying? Well I psych myself up before flights, and since I don't fly that much (yet) I haven't had much of a chance to get used to it. But it seems easier each time and I'll actually be flying alone for the first time in January. So far no panic attacks.

Speaking in public I learned to do in my work. I can do small groups fine, and who knows, maybe even large groups, but I haven't been presented with that challenge yet. I do need to know what I'm going to talk about as I am terrible at winging it. I'm not even that great a conversationalist, but can do it well if I want to, or if I've had coffee. Zzzzzing!

Talking about difficult issues with people is a work in progress. I do NOT enjoy this at all, but I realize it is an absolute in life, so I force myself to try and get into the ring. I grew up in a family that swept things under the rug, so had no practice dealing with issues verbally. In my 19 year marriage my husband was determined to always be right, so talking about it was a waste of time, energy and a totally defeating process. I clammed up worse than ever.

Then Cam came along, and Rob. Both of those gentle, sweet men were so patient with me and gave me a safe environment to reveal my feelings and troubles. Still it was never easy for me. But I learned how important it is. I guess I fear criticism and rejection most of all. I just cringe thinking of it.

So, having tackled most of those issues, I am left only with guilt. Most people wouldn't believe that I feel guilt at all. They see me as someone who never does anything wrong in the first place, and I come across as being a very confident and 'together' woman.

It's just my ex and my 19 year old daughter Maria that see me as the total opposite. They think I should feel guilty about many things I have done, and as they so adamantly see me that way, I sometimes start to believe it myself. I can more easily ignore what my ex thinks of me, but when it comes to my child I am affected on a deep level despite all logic. Because I care what she thinks and how she feels.

I am at the point now where I have to start figuring out how to break the news to Maria that I want to move to California. She'll likely say that she doesn't care if I go, but she won't want me taking her sister with me. I know this will be painful on a few levels, so I have to be ready to face it. I so wish I could get her to see what's in it for her. It could be such an opportunity for her. But I have seen how she reacts to my news, and I feel defeated before I start. Sound familiar?

This is one fear I am going to have to get professional help dealing with. I don't want to hurt anyone, I just want to be happy and live my life. This is a whole bunch of big changes all at once and I want to go into this new beginning with Andy healthy and happy, not dragging bags of guilt with me. I also think that Christie might benefit from talking to a professional about the big move. We need to do this right.

Add counselling to the list.

last cold winter

The days are chilly, and sunny if we're lucky. Darkness comes earlier every day. The nights are downright cold, and so is my bed.

I've made my choice and now have one man I call my partner. Content as I am with my decision, I find my bed is much too empty. Andy arrives early next month for another visit and I want him like I've never wanted him before. I just may devour him on the first night.

Not only do I need him sexually, but I need him emotionally too. I need to refuel our connection in person in order to build my momentum. It's going to be a long winter flying solo, and I need all the help I can get. Lots to do to get ready for the big move next year. I need my energy to get through what I see as the final challenge. Just get me through this winter and I'm home free.

ex-clusive expectations

I am thinking back on a conversation I had with Andy back in California. The end of my trip was nearing and I wanted to establish where our relationship stood and where we wanted it to go.

As we pulled into the parking lot of Target I thought what better time to get serious? I first told him what an amazing vacation it had been and that I loved getting to know him better and finally seeing his world. We both acknowledged that our relationship had evolved a lot in this visit.

So I asked him if he now had any expectations of me or us moving forward. He said not really, but he hoped that I would be able to move out there with him. I told him that I had no expectations of him either, other than to make smart decisions keeping our future together in mind. To me, this meant have sex if you must, but be safe while doing it and don't fall in love with anyone else. I didn't verbalize this, but I figured my words were sufficient.

Bottom line, I confirmed our status before I left California because I didn't know how I'd feel when I got back home. Well, it turns out I involuntarily committed myself to Andy right there in the parking lot of Target. I just didn't declare it in case he couldn't do the same. But I felt it. Honestly, I haven't wanted to be (intimate) with Rob since I've been back. And I can't think of anything that excites me more than living with Andy and waking up to him every day.

Six weeks later I still feel so committed to Andy, I find that my expectations have changed. I also want the status of our relationship to change--to match the way I/we feel. I want us to be exclusive partners. That may seem like a no brainer to you, but it's a big deal to me. I am rather amazed that I feel this way. But it feels good...until I let that tiny bit of fear creep in.

I hate to admit it, but I have a stupid little fear that Andy might be having sex with someone else. He's never led me to believe that. It's totally my own doing. It's the craziness that grows out of loneliness and missing him.

What nags at me is that I know he goes to his son's house a few times a week. Sometimes it turns out his son isn't home, but he stays anyway and hangs out with his ex. And she is just gorgeous--a young blonde with long flowing hair, nice boobs and full lips. I think she was a stripper when he met her. He says what a f'd up mess she is and describes their relationship more like a brother/sister thing, but still. She is beautiful and he hangs out at her house regularly. And who's to say she won't go after him again? I think she's jealous that he has someone and she doesn't.

I know I've got to get my head out of my ass. This is nuts. I've just got to ask him if he's ready to make the jump with me. I'm actually mad at myself for allowing these thoughts to get out of hand. Shame on me. Right?

the Rob experiment

Rob and I finally got together again. It was sort of an experiment. We'd spent a month apart to force ourselves to see what life without each other would be like. This was part of the fallout from my trip to LA.

As the one month date approached I had suggested we go out for a drink, but he said he had wine at his house. So I agreed to go to his house, a little reluctantly. I had kind of hoped for neutral territory. Anyway, he knew that I wasn't intending to be intimate. That was important to me, and Icertainly didn't want him to have unrealistic expectations. We didn't actually know what we'd do other than have a drink and talk.

So I walked up to his front door and knocked. That felt strange. I'd let myself in every time before over the last 4 years. He opened the door and invited me in. A hug was in order, long overdue in fact. He felt short and small to me...I guess compared to Andy. But it felt good to have strong arms wrapped around me.

We sat on opposite ends of the couch and caught up on each other's happenings as we downed a glass of wine. I could feel it after only half a glass. But it was good. I had stuff to share and booze always helps.

Much to my relief, I didn't feel at all attracted to Rob while we were talking and drinking. I didn't want that challenge. I wanted to know that Andy was the one, and that I wouldn't have to struggle with my indecision anymore.

I told Rob that I'd really missed having him to talk to, to hang out with. Apparently he's had an even harder time than me. In more than one way. He got a couple erections just while we talked. That felt a little awkward. We talked about getting divorces from our exes, my plans to move, some work issues, kids, and the biggest one...where do we go from here...

But after only one drink and 1 1/2 hours, I left. It was only 8:00. I went home and I felt just fine about it. To stay any longer would not have been productive. I would have started feeling sorry for him, and then bad about hurting him. This visit was short and sweet and to the point.

Rob and I will get together again. If we want to stay in touch we have to recreate our relationship in a way that works for both of us. I have to admit, it's not as fun being with him as it used to be. We have to figure out how to fill the time we used to spend in bed. And those were some pretty stimulating hours. A tough act to follow to say the least!

But I value our bond and the path we walked together--it was a big one--and I want to honor it. We've changed each other's lives for the better. I love him at a soul level and that will not change. I only hope that he can find peace in our transformation.

what's in a number?

October 10, 2010 will never come again. But I guess that's true of every other day on the calendar, too. What's with people's fascination with numbers? Do you know how many weddings took place on this date?

My friend's was one of them. He finally found the 'right one' he said when I saw him in August. His words warmed my heart because I could tell he was truly happy and excited to be marrying his lover. But he never pointed out the date 10-10-10, and I didn't realize it at the time.

I heard of another couple that insisted on tying the knot at 10:10am on that very day. OK, that's getting retarded. Are these people ruled by numbers? Maybe they're accountants. Or superstitious. Or trying their damnedest to make their marriage a perfect 10. And their marriage just might last until 11-11-11 or 12-12-12. I dunno. Who am I to judge? It just seems kind of juvenile.

If I get married to Andy I want it to be on an August 1st, the anniversary of the day we met again after 29 years. That was such a magical day. I remember we walked past a wedding party having photos taken on the steps of the art gallery as we crossed the street to the park. As we joked about telling them don't do it!, I secretly wondered if that could ever be us...and I can see it now. Was it an omen? Oh God, I sound like those number people!

to beagle or not to beagle

Pets. You can't live with 'em and you can't live without 'em.

I love my dog, but he also is a major pain in the butt. I became the reluctant owner of this runt beagle almost 9 years ago when my now 'ex' decided we needed a family dog. He did this mostly to become a hero in the eyes of our daughters, despite the fact that the one who would end up being the main caretaker (me) didn't want to take on that commitment. I knew that it would be tantamount to having another kid.

But I soon fell in love with the little rascal and took my very best care of him, as I did with my own children. And, as I expected, I was the one who fed him, walked him, cleaned up after him, and rescued him in the middle of the night when he barked so terrified of the thunder. I also protected him from the wrath of my ex who had no patience for humane training, preferring to hit the poor thing and scream at him in his own frustration. (No wonder I left him.)

When the ex and I split, we decided to share the dog just as we shared the kids. And for the first year or so that worked. Then my ex lost his job and had to sell his house. He moved to a place where he could not have a dog, so guess who got to take over full responsibility? Right. Not only did I inherit the entire burden of time and effort to take care of the dog, but the cost as well. Vet check ups, special food, and an $800 dental surgery that I just finished paying for. Oh yeah, so fair. But I'm thinking of the welfare of the dog and the poor little guy didn't ask for any of this!

As much of a burden that this whole situation is on me, this little runt is the most loyal, easy going, cutest and sweetest beagle you could ever know. He follows me everywhere (endearing and annoying at the same time) and sleeps at my feet or in the crook of my legs as I lay on my side. He has a great disposition and is dearly loved by the girls, and me.

He is absolutely and hopelessly dependent on me....to the point that he is very anxious when he is left alone after dark. When I have left him alone he races through the house working himself into a panic, barking incessantly. This has been a real problem since May as I have received notes from my neighbor that the noise is disturbing them.

I've talked to my vet, tried retraining my dog in obedience and being quiet. I even bought a crate and started getting him used to that. And I've had a lot of success, but not enough. Last weekend I had a fight with the neighbor who left me a very nasty note which really pissed me off. And he threatened to take the matter to the police next. I've already received 2 notices from the town bylaw officer, so I am seeing the writitng on the wall. The dog's got to go.

It really sucks. I admit I am kind of exhausted caring for this pup, and I know I will not be able to take him when I move next year, so it does make sense to find a new home for him. But I suffer from mother guilt. Both as 'mother' of this little dog, and towards my daughters who will have to deal with losing their pet. Ouch.

I look at his sad beagle eyes and know that he is so dependent on me. Can anyone else take care of him the way that he needs? Will they treat him with loving care or beat him into submission like my ex did? I do worry about him. But most of all I worry about what my dog will think about me. I think this thought and it hurts deep in my gut. Will he feel that I have abandoned him?

love not to be measured

I love you more than I've ever loved anybody.

Andy said that to me tonight. Awesome words to hear. I immediately felt like I should say something equally as awesome. All I could muster up was Our love is so great, so fun, and I am so excited about us and where we're going. This the truth. And I'm all about truth.

Because really, when I thought of who I've loved more than anybody, Cam was the first to come to mind, then Rob. Tinges of guilt kind of poked at me, but were soon lost in the distraction of the conversation that continued.

Later I reflected a little bit on what had happened in that awkward moment. And it's important to note that Andy never gave me any reason to feel guilty about what I said, or more accurately, what I didn't say. I was the one who was mildly tormented by it.

It's not so big a deal the more I think about it. All love is different and can't always be measured apples to apples. Sure, I fell deepest for Cam. I knew he was my soulmate since age 16, and he was my savior in many ways. But a few years ago, when I laid all my cards on the table, he folded. He just couldn't give up his life in AZ to be with me. And so how do you rate a love like that? Am I sorry I went though that? Not for a minute!

My love with Rob was such a physical and spiritual celebration. We reached heights I never knew could exist. God spoke to me several times during intimate moments with Rob. That's powerful shit. But the relationship obviously had limits. I could never picture myself growing old with Rob. When he wanted more, I wasn't ready, and when I wanted more, he kept giving reasons why we should take it slow. And I couldn't ignore how I would keep seeking a different kind of guy, a stronger personality, a leader. But the sex was outta this world!! Sorry? Nope.

So who's to say what was the greatest love? They're all great, and necessary. How do you ever measure such a thing anyway? Each guy has his own great qualities or things he is amazing at. Maybe it's not even about the guy. Maybe it's who appears at the time you are ready. I wholeheartedly believe in the law of attraction and I have attracted some of the greatest loves.

just another day at the beach

I wannabe on this beach naked. Sunkissed and sandkissed, awaiting the arrival of my lover.