It’s time for quiet now.

The Golfer ignored this.

Just a few things running through my mind today:

Working out for three months, moving, shopping for new furniture, my career, friends, Mens, sex and losing it, drinking, loneliness, excitement, determination, hope, warmth, longing, anger that I keep seeing my fucking ex-boyfriend everywhere I go on my apartment property, why I care that The Golfer won’t text me back and why Peter is being a dipshit, my dog might be too fat like me, how I caught two women at the party saying complimentary things about my looks so I must not be a troll, smoking again a little, the married British man trapped on a Fourth of July holiday hahaha, becoming friends with The Vet, chatting with my mom like a normal person, missing my baby who’s so far away, only one more week to go!, tomorrow is the beginning of the second half, a fresh start, that curry makes my belly ache, I can’t wait to be done with Cheers and move on to Frasier, I am both lonely and ok.

Thank you for being here with me and for me, guys. Internet Boyfriends are really the only boyfriends worth having anyway.

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It’s time for quiet now.

The Golfer ignored this.

Just a few things running through my mind today:

Working out for three months, moving, shopping for new furniture, my career, friends, Mens, sex and losing it, drinking, loneliness, excitement, determination, hope, warmth, longing, anger that I keep seeing my fucking ex-boyfriend everywhere I go on my apartment property, why I care that The Golfer won’t text me back and why Peter is being a dipshit, my dog might be too fat like me, how I caught two women at the party saying complimentary things about my looks so I must not be a troll, smoking again a little, the married British man trapped on a Fourth of July holiday hahaha, becoming friends with The Vet, chatting with my mom like a normal person, missing my baby who’s so far away, only one more week to go!, tomorrow is the beginning of the second half, a fresh start, that curry makes my belly ache, I can’t wait to be done with Cheers and move on to Frasier, I am both lonely and ok.

Thank you for being here with me and for me, guys. Internet Boyfriends are really the only boyfriends worth having anyway.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter


Little joys, little pains.

It’s really freeing to not give a shit.

It’s also simultaneously lonely.

Peter came over for an impromptu night together on Sunday. He groaned into my ear how much he loved the way I fucked. For a moment I thought of the woman he’s newly entangled with, the one he’d told me he hung out with by the pool all day the day before.

I guess she doesn’t fuck like me.

We have plans to hang out by my pool this Sunday. I want to do that better than her, too.

But then I think he’s going to cancel on me. Something will come up. It’s like I told The Golfer repeatedly, I just don’t trust that men will follow through and I was surprised each time I ended up at his doorstep the day we planned.

To that end, TG is sensitive. “I can’t commit first thing Monday morning to a Saturday. I have a ton of shit going on and I don’t want to disappoint.” Maybe he doesn’t know what’s disappointing to me, to any woman.: to not be important enough to lock in a time to see me is rather a large let down.

So congratulations for not failing to follow through on a Saturday. Too bad you left me standing there grinning ear to ear all dressed up with no where to go. Silly, Hy, it’s Monday morning. Give the guy a break.

Peter said yes to Sunday on a Monday, though. Good for him. Only, I doubt he’ll actually show up. One-Month Crazy Lady will likely have a moment of some kind and he’ll need to tend to her.

I’m having 4 am girl flashbacks. — Oh, that reminds me, I saw The Neighbor again today. Pey and I were walking up the hill after swimming chatting away. I saw glimpses of him walking to his car then he drove slowly past us. Peyton didn’t even notice him. My baby only noticed the woman with a broken arm.

“Look mom,” Peyton pointed. “Now that must’ve hurt.” I had to look where the finger was pointing and it was right at TN pulling out. I wondered if he thought my baby was pointing at him. Fuck if I care. —

But yeah, 4 am girl, the one TN tried to date after he told me he didn’t want to date me. Crazy Lady reminds me of her because Peter has claimed he doesn’t want to date anyone either, but here we are.

Hot messes getting the guy.

My therapist asked if I could ask Peter why I didn’t seem to be a candidate for him. I’d told her I could, but I was too afraid of the answer to ask him on Sunday. Maybe I will at the pool.

Then again, I’m not sure I give a shit, but fuck it if I’m not lonely as hell.

Post kiss at a swanky downtown riverfront hotel. My date had to go back to work. I decided to stay and languish with my feet up and some bubbly rosé.

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Listen to the people who knew you when.

I posted a picture on my personal Instagram today with a rare glimpse behind the curtain. The image is of me, in black and white, wearing a spaghetti strap dress with a tiny bit of my lace bralette peeking out of the top.  My left hand is curled around a strap in a relaxed manner, my eyes look into the lens.  I think it’s at once provocative and innocent. 

I look pretty and I’m surprised by my own assessment.  I haven’t felt pretty in a very long time. I’ve felt invisible and unimportant, lonely.  Trapped in a life I know I’ve created for myself, but unable to change it for whatever reason.

With this picture of me I included the following words:

I wonder how much longer I’m going to have to go through this life alone. My exhusband accused me once of deliberately avoiding long term relationships until Peyton left home. HA HA!

Trust me, if I found a man worthy of me and my baby I’d be all over him like white on rice, but solving my loneliness is *not* more important than having the right puzzle piece in our lives.

I wish I could say that my boyfriend was next to me getting a pedi the day I took this pic, but the truth is I was alone as usual. Just like at all the games and events and birthdays and holidays and Target runs.

A lucky 2 or 3 got the text of me sitting there all innocently buxom, but I sent it knowing not one of them would ever turn into the man I’m looking for to cruise the aisles of Target with me.

Guess I have nothing else to do but to continue to be patient.

A couple of my friends replied with support, but I got a text from one of my very oldest of friends, Lainey.  We were virginal cheerleaders together whose past times included egging houses from the back of her Mustang convertible.

Hey pretty girl. I saw your post and I know you didn’t ask for advice so I’m not giving you any. Just an observation about my own life.

1. I’ve had multiple relationships since my divorce. I still feel alone a lot even when I am in a relationship.
2. No one will ever love your kid like you do. I guess theoretically it’s sorta possible but it legit just doesn’t happen
3. People are fucking selfish and can’t see past their own shit. Being single allows me to worry about my own self and what makes me happy in a way that no one else is gonna do for me….
4. Even in a good relationship, at our age, with kids and work and soccer and etc etc etc, you will still be physically alone a lot. It’s fine.
I see my current bf every one to two weeks, and it does suck to not have him there for a Target run or other ‘normal things’, but when we do get to do that together it is all the more special.
5. I love you. ?

I appreciated her thoughts – totally – but realized that my general opaqueness with even my closest friends has painted a picture of me that doesn’t do what I’ve been through any justice.  I have kept the definition of my life, the finer points of my heartache, contained here in this space far from their eyes.

I wrote her back:

Aw, I’ll start with #5 and say I love you, too!??

What I’m about to say for the rest is gonna sound like a big fat bummer, but it’s true. Everything you said I can relate to, but only intellectually.

I’ve only had one relationship since I left in 2010 and that man (The Neighbor) barely wanted to date me. His disinterest in Peyton was a huge deal and had he not left me I’d have ended things in large part because of it – I won’t invite someone into my life who makes my kid feel invisible or not good enough. I know first hand what that’s like. And I have had so few 3rd dates in all those years I could probably count them on both hands.

I have been so alone, on a hamster wheel of dating and not dating, and I’m just tired. I’d love to have someone in my life who wanted to see me even only every couple of weeks, and who enjoyed my kid when we all hung out together, but I don’t. And it sucks. And I see no end to this because I haven’t met anyone worthy of even meeting my friends, let alone my child, and the older I get the less patience I have with fucking idiot men and all their bullshit.

I’m envious that you’ve had as many actual boyfriends as you have since you left your husband, though I know it’s been terrible and painful on occasion. I’m happy for you that you have people who want to do the work with you. I just haven’t had the same kind of luck.

I try to focus on my freedoms and I’m grateful for them, but it’d be really nice to have someone love me again, too, and all the crap that comes with that. I never really felt loved by my exhusband either, so for whatever reason today it all felt just so bleak and awful. Then I wondered when has anyone ever really loved me?? When I was 24? Ok, maybe my exhusband loved me a little, but he certainly didn’t like me and he made that abundantly clear.

Sorry this text is so long, but I’m on my laptop and I can’t do spaces lol

Now I’m sitting here thinking, Is that really true?  Do I actually wonder if I’ve ever been loved by a man?  And I think the answer is yes.  I think I do wonder in my darker moments.

I also think I need to stop hiding so much from the people who dare to love me and who knew me when my heart was filled with hope back when I wore a short cheerleading skirt and had the wind in my hair.

I wish it were as easy as giving them this blog address – the real key to my heart – then they’d know me like you all do and wouldn’t be surprised by emotional social media posts and a little peek at my soul.

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I’m jealous.

And sad. And lonely.

Let me back up. It’s not what you think.

My exhusband and The Neighbor share a lot of traits: emotionally cut-off/distant, introverted, sensitive, sweet, Mid-Western, socially shy, inexperienced, bad family relationships, and highly intelligent (they’re both in the genius range) to name a few. And now they share another: they have girlfriends.

I’m extremely close with my exhusband; he’s like a brother to me. I deeply love him and him me. We never should have tried a lifelong romantic pairing, but being connected to him via our child is a wonderful idea. He’s smart, funny, witty, considerate. Over the past two years I’ve encouraged him to open up to me about his dating life and, reluctantly and with some discomfort, he has until today he’s completely open with me.

The funny thing is I’ve been much less forthcoming. I wasn’t sure how I was to say, “Oh yeah, Troy fucked me last night with another bisexual man and it was rockin’!” He doesn’t know my current proclivities and I’d prefer to keep it that way. But in light of losing my heart to my young lover I began to open up. Feelings were something I could share with him.

It was Mother’s Day when I admitted to my exhusband that I had feelings for TN (he only knew him as “The Engineer” at the time) and he disclosed many similar things between him and his love interest, Mary. Mary was open and gregarious, loved him, wanted more. My exhusband wanted space, felt pressured, and didn’t match her feelings. So, being mature and kind, he’d broken things off with her. She begged for a friends with benefits sort of arrangement, but he didn’t believe she could handle it. They’d fight when he’d do nice things for her, “Why do you do that if you don’t love me??” she’d cry to him. He couldn’t answer. It was just a nice thing to do.

As he and I shared more details of our breakups — and TN’s identity was revealed to him — we were both shocked to discover we’d both had almost an identical relationship as the other. Mary had said many of the same things to my exhusband as I’d said to TN, “That’s what a man in love does,” for instance. My exhusband had prickled at that much the same as TN had. The big differences lay in the fact that in my exhusband’s relationship he’d been the one to end it for her sake. In mine, it’s been all me.

Fast forward to this last week and my exhusband tells me that he and Mary decided to get back together after a weekend away together doing a sporting event (something she’d locked him into doing with her back in February). I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “Don’t dick her over,” I said. “If you can only do this for 3 months, don’t. You need to give her at least a year.”

He rolled his eyes back at me. ‘Of course, Hy, I’ve given this a lot of thought. I think I can do it now. I can handle it.” And there it was. A change of fucking heart. That thing we women always long for, see in movies, and whisper to ourselves into our pillows. He was the one who’d broken her heart, gotten away, and she gave it a little time and space and he came around. He’s willing now to involve her in his life whereas before she was on the fringe; he’s taking her to his sister’s wedding back East in a few weeks with Peyton; she’s going to finally meet me. He’s spending days on end with her whenever he’s kid-free and they do two things: fuck and ride bicycles.

I’m more than happy for him. I’m thrilled, but I’m also gutted. This is what TN is doing, too. This morning, Tuesday, marks the fourth night in a row TN has stayed away from home overnight. He’s with his “Mary” now. Loving her, wanting to be with her. His flaws and distance shrouded in a honeymoon veil. I will never get my change of heart from him. I have lost him completely.

How is it that these two men — decent and kind, yes, but also wholly unavailable — can find women to love them and want to be with them for days on end when I can find no one for more than a few hours? That’s what I’m jealous about. That’s what hurts me to the core. I want what they have. And neither of them, ultimately, wanted it with me.

I’m gonna cum like a motherfucker.

I’ve added a bit to my online dating profile about preferring big cocks (my recent dates have forced me to add the disclaimer). What I didn’t expect was the national attention it would garner.

Apparently, hung men from New York to San Francisco search for women like me, ask me my size preferences, then like to tell me all about their giant cocks and how they use them. I’m talking to three such fellas currently and one will even be in town next week. Hmm.

Not only have I been turned on for hours now, but I am also pining for The Neighbor’s perfect cock: 9″+, 8″ around, barely curved, rock hard, and attached to a little sex machine of a man. God, how I want him in my mouth and pussy, slipping in and out, our bodies slick with effort. Fuck me.

But I digress.

I don’t have TN anymore, I have only you, Internet boyfriend, my sweet, sexy entity that bolsters my mood and keeps me in check. The one who happily faps to my creamy tits and soft swells. It fills me with joy that I can turn to you in my time of need and that you respond like a decent boyfriend would.

The real life Internet boys have lots to live up to. Their big cocks only get them in the door, not into my heart.

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[Post script: And I did while imagining my cunt clenching down hard on TN, pushing out and clenching again, smelling his clean, soapy scent above me. I wailed on my own flank, stung my palm as I spasmed. My cries rang through my apartment for no one’s ears but my own. Alone, sated for now.]

I’m wrung out and horny.

The last day or so has exhausted me. Lots and lots to think about. Too much, really. I feel parsed out over so many words, like an envelope that’s been licked too much and won’t stay shut.

Also, my softball team creamed The Neighbor’s tonight. I was brilliant on first and at bat. We said hello, he was kind. I couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his shorts.

We arrived home at the same time again. He honked at me, called me a pretty girl. We walked up together then went to our separate corners. “To vomit,” he said. He’d gotten sick.

Me, my reward is watching Cheers on my laptop on Netflix. In bed. Naked. And alone.

Thanks, everyone, for being my Internet boyfriend. Enjoy.

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