i don’t want to be charlie brown anymore…

dear e,

i can’t sleep. my heart hurts to no end. i know you didn’t mean to hurt me, but yet again,  i feel like shit over you.

i have endured humiliation and pain this year in regards to sam, as your girlfriend several times and now as of last night, as your friend. the really painful part is that you do this so naturally, unconsciously, this is who you are and this is who you will always be, and no matter how much i invest my heart in you, at the end of the day, i will feel like this insignificant person in your life. that’s on me.

i silently saved my christmas eve and day for you because i thought this year, i was spending it in san francisco for the first time in my life and just stupidly assumed that i would spend it with the friend i most love in the world, you. the very thought that you would spend it with sam didn’t even cross my mind until my therapist had asked if that was what you were doing. i felt this tinge of sharp pain when she said that to me yesterday morning, and that tinge kept throbbing inside me and that’s why i called last night to ask if it could even possibly be true after all we have gone through this year.

this is the part that i feel like i can’t count on you. i spent this whole year first as your girlfriend and then as your friend working around your schedule, making sure i only met you when it was convenient for you, to make your life go as smoothly as possible. sometimes as your girlfriend, i have asked to spend a whole saturday with you, but you put your writing first, which i lived with and accepted because that was very important to you. but the times when you actually took a day off was to take that weekend trip with sam or you did your laundry on a friday because you had plans on the following saturday to see sam and her sister. god forgive you, if you ever did that for me.

i feel like if sam asked you to take her to the moon, you’d fight through heaven and hell to find a way to do so. if i asked, you’d tell me it didn’t work in your budget or how ridiculous that request was in the first place.

i feel myself pulling away from you because at the end of the day, no matter how much i put you on the top of my list of priorities. i’d drop everything to be there for you. i realize in your world, you’d have to consider if you’re done with your writing and sam doesn’t need you to do something and you’re feeling well and have nothing else more important to attend to, before you will be there for me. and that cuts me to the core, makes me feel like shit, makes me feel like whereas naturally, i think about how to make your life sweeter and easier and more wonderful, you naturally think about yourself first, your writing next, your mom and then sam, and only when it’s convenient, perhaps me. i am and always will be only and afterthought, if even that. maybe you don’t think this is true because you spend all the free time you have with me, but if you really think about it, i’m the average boring day and sam is your special occasion, your birthday, christmas, and any day that really truly matters to you.

maybe i deserve this because i screwed up thanksgiving for you, made you feel bad as we were heading home?

i don’t want to do this anymore, e. i don’t want to set myself up for disappointment when it comes to you and sam. it makes me regret ever dating you beyond that first date when you told me about sam and how you came to san francisco for her. i should have known better, that was a huge red flag. i should have stopped after that first date. i had no idea how much pain i had in store for me this last year. i wish i could go in the past and grab myself before i answered your reply to my personal ad. i wish i could go back and hold myself tightly in my arms and tell her, please, don’t answer back, don’t open your heart to this guy, he will hurt you so deeply over and over again in 2010 without even a blink because when it comes to you, ultimately, he will not recognize your worth. and that is because you yourself don’t recognize your own worth. it will kill you inside. he will choose sam each and every time—she owns his heart completely and you will barely scratch the surface.

since i can’t go back in the past, all i can do is hold myself now, and tell myself, “you can stop this pain right now by letting go of him. you can stop setting yourself up for hurt. it’s like e is lucy holding that football in front of you, and you’re charlie brown. you don’t have to be charlie brown anymore. just walk away, stop trying to kick that football, e will never let you…ultimately, he can’t. that ball belongs to sam. it will always belong to sam. i was the fool to think differently, want differently, even hope differently.”

i was originally composing this letter to send to you, e, but i didn’t want to fuck up your most favorite holiday, christmas, and instead, i have put it in my blog. i’m doing this right now because i want this to be my last blog entry about you. i spent this whole entire year devoted to your happiness when i should have remembered mine, i should have taken care of myself, i should have loved myself even half as much as i loved you.

i can honestly say that my love for you has hit its wall. i see you for who you are. i see that you are incapable of loving me, truly loving me even as a friend. you don’t have the capacity to understand or appreciate me, and that’s the pain i am going through. i allowed myself to open my heart and even hope that you could possibly be the man to share my whole world with, and i was wrong time and time again, so utterly mistaken.

2010 i gave you my first new year’s kiss…i won’t make that mistake ever again. my heart has no more to give you.

piecing back my heart…

whoa! where did the month go? year go? more importantly, where did the sex go? i miss it, don’t you? ;p

i do apologize to you, my lovely, sexy readers! my heart has been nursing silently. i’ve been trying to figure out how to be a friend with my ex- whom i still love romantically. i don’t know if that part of me will ever let go completely.

i met him a year ago come saturday, december 4th. it is very bittersweet for me, i guess. i actually made plans to hang out with andy, my ex- from three years ago, the one who broke my heart to the point that i had to start writing this blog to get over him…funny, huh? i thought my heart could never love after andy…and it did. i thought my heart could never break as much as it did after our breakup…and it did. i thought my heart could never heal enough to be friends with andy again…and it did. it’s very bittersweet that andy and i can now hang out, without my heart shattering into pieces…it gives me hope that i can get to this place someday with my current ex-.

i’m just not there right now. i spent thanksgiving with him along with my best friends in sf. at times, i forgot we were broken up, but then i’d realize it and catch myself from taking his hand or giving him a kiss. i miss that so much. he’s one of the most affectionate boyfriends i’ve ever had, so i feel his absence throughout my body, not just the juicy parts. i miss being so smitten with him that you couldn’t suckerpunch the smile off my face. i was happy then. i loved him without any worries or cares or fears of looking stupid or getting hurt. i love him more than i could ever express in my lifetime. so you can imagine how difficult it has been to regain my footing when that world was completely destroyed. like an nuclear bomb, i stood looking at what was left of that life and all the dreams i built around that love…there was and is nothing. for the past 4 months, i think i’ve been searching deseparately through all the wreckage, looking for an insect or the tiniest flower that might have survived, that might grow into a garden someday, that might give me another chance at a new dream.

a year ago today, i only knew e through a few e-mails. we were just setting up our first date. i still had not heard his voice because we didn’t get a chance to talk to each other on the phone. i was still full of so much hope in this guy who wrote so sweetly and honestly and hilariously. i wish i could go back in time and tell that version of me to choose friendship over love with this new guy. i know she wouldn’t listen, but i wish i could still implant a little seed in her head to tread lightly, so that my heart wouldn’t hurt as much today.

…but i’m starting to figure out that he’s not enough for me, at least, right now. i deserve someone who is willing to fight through heaven and hell to never let me go because the reality is that i would never make someone fight through heaven and hell to be with me. if i love you, i open my heart, my soul, my life entirely to you.

sleeping with my ex…

i must be a glutton for punishment?! so last week, i was helping e move into his ex’s apartment, which she is letting him takeover until she feels like moving back in or giving up the rent control apartment she’s had for 8 years. in san francisco terms, it’s basically a gold mine. believe me, when he first told me about it, my heart dropped one of those cartoon safes that fall on your head and crush you into the ground. he is living there indefinitely, but to the landlord, he is sam’s boyfriend. ugh! the whole thing made me want to vomit. it brought up all the old feelings of jealousy and insecurities about her and her motives and his unresolved feelings all over again.

being the good friend i was trying to be, i kept my mind as open as i could. so i helped him move into his new place, which still had her bed and couch and her old crutches in the closet, paintings on the wall and wonder woman light switch cover. at first, i felt just numb. i didn’t know how to feel inside, but then it made perfect sense for him to move into a nicer apartment at the same rent price and in a nicer neighborhood. i started easing into the idea, knowing it didn’t matter because e is NOT my boyfriend anymore. 

well, it got late, so i ended up sleeping over. lying there in his arms, talking and laughing about his new apartment and life and all that, it felt like old times and i leaned in to kiss him good night. we started kissing passionately and one thing led to another and we fucked like old times. it felt so good being with him again. i felt like we had a real chance of working things out and being together for good this time.

next morning, we cuddled and talked and laughed and i was in heaven. he served me some breakfast, and i went to work. we had sorta hinted at various things we might do later in the day, but as the day went by, he got busy. he was distracted. i tried to join him after work to help set up his new place, and he said he needed to rest and wanted to do it on his own. i started to feel really vulnerable and anxious again. maybe the fuck was just that, a fuck, an itch he had that needed scratching, but that was it and nothing more.

i called him the next day to say that i felt disconnected and didn’t want to cheapen our friendship or end up feeling like a whore. he agreed that he didn’t want to lose my friendship and that he didn’t want me to feel like a whore and that we can talk about it on saturday.

saturday, we went to see “poltergeist” at the castro theater for hallow’s eve. i painted a crazy skeleton out of my face. he let me paint his face. we had a blast. he came over to my place to watch more scary films afterwards, but was falling asleep, so we went to bed, no hanky panky.

in the morning, i started to ask him about tuesday night and what it meant. he said, “well, you know, you can’t feel ‘used’ if you offer.” i realized that we weren’t getting back together again. it was just sex, plain and simple. he said it was very nice, but ultimately, he didn’t see us working out in the long run. i said to him that i might need some timeoff from him, and he simply agreed without a fuss.

what did i expect? i guess i wanted more of a fight, a tear, something more than just an “ok.”

so that’s where i’m at, i’m stuck, still in love with my ex and holding on to a glimmer of hope that he will change his mind or see what he is giving up. i just don’t understand how or why he sees me 2-3 times a week, holds my hand, loves my affectionate gestures, and on occasion, he gives in to my sexual advances. it’s been like this for 3 months since our break-up. we are each other’s go-to person, and yet, he can’t and won’t and doesn’t want to be in a long-term relationship with me. it drives me nutty, but at the end of the day, i’m the one who put myself here. i’m the insane one, trying to make sense of something that will never work out.

i miss him being my boyfriend, so i think i should just take the time off cold turkey, but i know that i will miss him being my friend. it sucks either way, i’m just trying to figure out which one hurts less. i hate that the holidays are coming around the corner, and i don’t have someone to share them with yet again. last year this time, i really, truly thought that i was going to find that someone to share my holidays with, my life with, my everything with. ultimately, i think that’s the part that hurts the most. i wanted to be with e this holiday season, but clearly, he could care less to be with me.

do boob tits have hair?

sometimes i like to look at the stats about my blog, which have been falling lately cuz well, i haven’t been blogging regularly. i get it. why follow a blog as wishy-washy as mine?! i’m really sorry. this last love of mine really crushed me hard. ugh! i feel like my cunt is packing up her goodies and planning the great escape (without the rest of me). god, what i’d do to fuck without abandon!

i always notice the funny way people find my blog entries, the most common are “juicy cock” and “taste of cum.” today, i noticed someone found my blog by typing in the question, “do boob tits have haire?” that made me think either a guy just got busy with a girl and found a cousin it sitting on her tit? or it was a young girl coming into womanhood who found some hairs on her own tits and was wondering if it was normal? or maybe it was someone with a hair fetish and wanted to know if boob tits had hair? i have no idea, but it made me laugh.

well, then it made me think, do i have hair on my tits? i just went into the bathroom to check it out. i don’t really. i mean i found one tiny one, but i think we all have little hairs throughout our bodies…i mean we did all evolve from monkeys (sorry to any religious folks who believe in God and the divine creation theory), and look how extremely hairy they are?

some of us are hairier than others. unless there’s some crazy pain or an infestation of lice living in the hairs on your tits, i think it’s safe to say you’re normal and if it bothers you, you can probably pluck it out, unless it’s an alien egg that has implanted itself into your tit and is now gestating inside your boob. ewwwww! gross! get that checked out, girl! i’m totally kidding, of course!!!

girl with the hair on her tit, don’t worry, it’s normal.

guy who found it on his girlfriend and is freaking out, don’t worry, it’s normal. AND don’t make her feel bad about it! you probably have a hairy back or ears or too much on your chest or too little on your head that she might not like, so back off!

guy who has a hair fetish and is just wondering where he can find more, don’t worry, it’s normal! go ahead and let your freak flag fly!

i feel like a lost girl waiting to be found…

over the weekend, i read a graphic novel called, “lost girls” by alan moore and illustrated by melinda gebbie. it’s beautifully illustrated and raunchy as hell. it’s basically a story about alice in wonderland, wendy from “peter pan,” and dorothy from “the wizard of oz” meeting in an austrian hotel before world war I as adult women who basically LOVE fucking. the illustrations are pornographic, but also so beautiful that they are true works of art.

now, i don’t know if it’s because i personally haven’t been fucking since early july, i started reading a few chapters and i just about lost it. i started reading about dorothy masturbating as the tornado was shaking her house, and i got wet and bothered. i had the book lying on my bed, while i went at it with my fingers, my legs shaking violently.

i was spinning in an orgasmic bliss, dripping wet with desire.

then i started reading about wendy and her sexual discoveries with a boy named peter. of course,  the incestuous stuff wasn’t appealing to me, but once it got to the parts of wendy fucking peter, i had to go for another whirl, my bed was drenched.

finally, reading alice’s stories of sexual-land interestingly didn’t turn me on as much, which i guess means i’m not a lesbian. it was girl on girl action throughout. i still did enjoy reading and looking at the pictures. i mean come on, it was girl on girl action.

ahhh, but since the three stories were told intermittently, i certainly got off plenty over the three nights of reading this fantastical retelling of these stories i enjoyed as a little girl.

e told me that he found the drawings in the book cute, so he wasn’t as moved as i was to take care of myself over and over again. i think it might be due to the fact that he’s a guy, but also used to hardcore porn. as experienced in sex as i am, i’m still pretty innocent when it comes to the world of porn and really kinky shit.

reading these stories made me think about my own coming-of-age around sexuality and feeling so lost and ashamed at how horny i felt but how also inept i was to satisfy that ache in me. i wish this book had been written 20 years ago and that i had found it. i think it would have opened up a whole world i was so afraid to enter until i was 26, and even now, i write this blog about my sex and love adventures, but i am still a “lost girl” waiting to be found…telling my own stories and fantasies to you to free myself.

my perfect SEX hair…ooh la la!

back in grad school (mind you, i hadn’t even gotten my first kiss), i was sitting around with my galpals, watching, “while you were sleeping” and eating cakes and doing our nails (not in that particular order).

one of my friends who was a lesbian, put her finger into the little tub of nailpolish remover ( it had a cushy sponge swimming in acetone). she started to laugh, saying how that sensation was what it felt to stick her fingers up in a girl’s pussy. we all giggled and stuck our fingers in and sorta had to agree. of course, i wasn’t even familiar with proper masturbating at the time, so i nodded and giggled to play along.

then another friend asked if she could play with my hair. my favorite thing about going to a hairdresser was having my hair washed and fussed over, so i immediately agreed. as she stroked her fingers through my hair, she cried out, “dang, you have the perfect SEX hair!” i laughed, but didn’t quite understand what she meant. did i have hair that would perfectly arouse a man, if i actually could attact one?! 

i sheepishly asked, “what do you mean? i’ve never been with a guy.”

she stops and cries out, “what the fuck, how old are you?!”

“i’m 23.”

“23 and never been fucked. don’t you ever get horny?!”

“ummm, not really.”

“girl, you need to get out there and get your hair pulled soon. what i would give to have your hair!”

i’d watched sex scenes in movies, getting a tingling sensation in my pussy. the leading ladies always had amazing hair that men ran their fingers through or gently pulled on or curls that fell perfectly down the nape of their necks and backs or flew beautifully in the wind. i thought to myself, “yes, i do have long, beautiful SEX hair!”

then when i actually had sex for the first time and ever since. let’s just say, it was a whole different story. don’t get me wrong, my hair is really awesomely long and luscious, but with that said, during sex, it becomes more of a nuisance than a turn-on.

when i’m sucking on a yummy cock, my hair tends to get in the way, so i end up sucking on cock and a big mouthful of my hair or my hair gets in the way of actually looking up and seeing my lover’s pleased face.

i’m sure at first for my lovers, my luscious, long hair can make me look a bit like angelina jolie or catherine zeta jones (my hair/NOT my face—those woman are goddesses—are you kidding me?! do you think i’d be writing about my dating woes, if i actually looked like those knockouts!?! i’m more on the cute side like drew barrymore or ginnifer goodwin)… ooops!, i digress. so at first, the hair can be extremely sexy. i like to straddle my guy and toss my hair around like a stripper about to go to town on his happy stick, but after a few head twirls and peeking through the strands, hungry like a wolf-style, i begin to feel more like cousin it than gisele bundchen.

without fail, i have to reach over on my bedstand for a rubber (band) to tie back my hair, so i can look into my lover’s eyes, i can see the pleasure in his face and smile, i can actually see and enjoy all his yummy parts, licking and sucking him without gagging up a furball…you get the picture, i can get down and dirty.

don’t get me wrong, i love when my lover runs his hands through my hair or pulls on it gently when he gets excited and wants to play a little rough, but at some point of the evening, my perfect SEX hair turns into an annoying unruly pet who seems to try to cock-block me…tee hee.

so today as i was pulling out the barbie wig from the shower drain, i realized that in theory, i have the perfect SEX hair, but in practice, i’m thinking the sinead o’connor look might be more my preference….tee hee. ;p

is double penetration only for pornstars?!!!

ok, so a few years back, i heard the words, “double-penetration,” and imagined a pornstar getting it up her pussy and in her anus. i couldn’t actually picture how this would be very comfortable for any party involved, since not all of us are gymnasts or double-jointed. ;p

recently, i read that it is any sexual act involving two objects entering the orifices of a woman or man, so that led to further research and came up with two cocks in a woman’s cunt or anus or two cocks in a man’s anus. technically, i guess two cocks in the mouth could be double penetration as well as ears or belly buttons or nostrils! double ouch!

ok, so here’s the question? i can totally imagine two cocks going up a very willing and loose cunt, but the tight anus? really? seriously? not to be gross, but even my biggest, hardest poop was the size of one average, aroused cock being pushed out, which made me bleed (i was getting too much fiber that day?!). so to even wrap my head around two aroused cocks going up my poor anus makes my bumhole sore, just sitting here writing this blog entry.

besides the sheer curiousity of watching it done in porn (i still haven’t watched a hardcore porn…must put on my fuck-it list), i can’t see the pleasure in actually doing it for me or for the two guys who would agree to have their cocks rubbing up so close next to each other unless they were getting paid or gay?! am i right here?!

i have never even had one cock all up in my ass, and the one time my boyfriend got the tip of his in, i cried bloody murder and ordered him to get it out. afterwards, i walk around like i had a chili pepper missile up my ass. it was painful, not pleasurable in any way. now, i’ve had a finger put up my ass…i even had my own put up there while i was masturbating in the bathtub, and found it quite pleasurable, but that’s about it. in my experience with cocks, bigger is NOT always better, nor is more than one better than just one. i don’t ever want poop falling out of my ass, if i can help it.

is it human nature to want to push the envelope? look at the many positions in the kama sutra (another thing to put on my fuck-it list?). i’m not saying, we should only do it missionary style. i’m just completely amazed at the things that we humans can or are willing to try to get off sexually?! don’t even get me started on that pornstar who wanted to fuck as many cocks on camera in a day?! they had to literally ice her cunt at one point (i only saw tidbits in a sex documentary i was watching, so i can’t really give you all the gorey details!). call me old-fashioned, but double penetration, unless it’s my lover’s cock in my mouth and his tongue in my pussy, just doesn’t seem to be my cup of tea?

what are your dirty thoughts?

when did i get to be so super-lame?!

i’m sorry, i’ve been m.i.a. it’s probably cuz i haven’t really been getting any action to blog about. i’ve been on the verge, but still hiding under a rock.

i put up my profile on okcupid again, but each time someone writes to me, i just want to run for the hills. first of all, the ones i feel like winking at, don’t give me the time of day. the ones who do write to me are not my cup of tea, so i realize that i’m not at all ready to get back into the dating pool. my armpits and legs are hairy, and let’s just say the bikini area could use a team of expert anthropologists to locate and excavate my long-lost mojo before i can even doggy paddle my way to the deep end.

i put up a feeble attempt of a personal ad on craigslist and got two spambots and two men in their late 50s, telling me that they’re my perfect man, besides the fact that i had asked for someone between 30-40. gotta give them props for having balls!

i find myself being a cheerleader in my head wherever i go, “come on, you’re a hottie! look at this guy, he seems like someone you’d like. smile.” for a few seconds, i bat my eyes, stand up straight, boobs forward, and strut. then i feel extremely retarded and have to retreat, and i just realize that i’m not feeling it. i’m not ready to get out there…just yet.

i find myself turning inward, rushing home after work, keeping to myself in most social situations. when friends ask me how i am doing lately, i try to find something interesting to say besides the fact that my heart is still hung up on e. i try to avoid telling them that i still miss him and wish he would come back and really be with me. i highlight the fact that i’m working on some short animations and films and am starting to look into screenwriting again, all the while knowing that i want to be “in love” with e or someone like e who is “in love” with me.

is that the stupidest thing you ever heard? am i just being the most pathetic pussy in the world? i feel so lame. after all the fuss about the women’s movement, at the end of the day, i still just want to be an adoring housewife to my husband who loves me and is the father of our three beautiful children. i want to bake chocolate chip cookies and give my children baths and read bedtime stories. i want to cook dinner for my husband and sleep in his arms every night and wake up in the middle of the night to make love and talk about anything and everything that comes to mind in those wee hours of the twilight. i just want to have someone i adore by my side and know that i’m not alone in the world. it’s “our” world, not just “mine.” i’ve been alone most of my life, i’m just so tired of fighting it all on my own.

i hang out with e about once a week now. when we do, i ask him at some point of our outing, “do you miss me?” ”you do know i’m not entirely over you?” “was i that miserable to be with that you would choose to be alone now?” “haven’t you punished me enough?” “are you done now? are we getting back together?” he obliges me with a nervous smile and replies, “i’m sorry.” i rest my lips in the groove of his neck, and he holds me and says, “yes, i miss you.” “i’m sorry, should i go away?” “you were the best girlfriend. i was just a terrible boyfriend.” “i’m not trying to punish you. maybe i’m just punishing myself?” “i just can’t be your boyfriend right now. i just need to be alone right now, but we can still be very close while i’m single.”

that last line just kills me because a twisted part of me holds onto that last sentiment and wraps it with all the hope in my heart and kisses it everyday, waiting in vain for it to grow. he’ll be back when he’s ready to be with someone again. when he’s ready to put a relationship in his top priority, he’ll be back. he’ll be back, when he realizes that i was the best thing to ever happen to him. he’ll be back, for sure!!!

and then i wake up each morning and feel the empty part of my bed where he used to rest his head…and realize it’s really over.

e-ternal sunshine of my harried mind…

lately, i’ve been struggling with e, but also trying to come to terms with things. he doesn’t make it easy on me though. ultimately, i don’t make it easy on me either. the other day, he came by to have lunch with me on his day off, which was so sweet, something i always had wished he would have done while we were dating. we picked up some sandwiches which he paid for. then we sat in the san francisco park where many older generation chinese men and women play mahjong together like an excited crowd betting on a chicken fight. we sat on a bench very close to each other, like two young lovers playing hookie from school.

me: “you know, e, i’m not over you yet?!”

he looked at me with his puppy-dog innocent eyes, “umm, so should i leave or go eat with that man reading his newspaper over there?”

we giggle, looking over at the man. i at first, agree that is where he should go.

me: “no, it’s just there are moments i see you, i just want to kiss you, and god, you smell soooooooooooooooo good…it drives me crazy. look at this perfectly beautiful day, sunny, we’re in this chinese park with happy mahjong players, we should be kissing each other, happy in love.”

at that moment, one of the older gentlemen toppled over like a turtle rolling on his shell. e jokingly said, “oops! little man down.” luckily, he was  a spry guy for an older gentleman with a cane. he eventually got up again.

he: “i’m sorry. there are moments when i think about kissing you, too.”

me: “what do you do?”

he: “i try not to think about it.”

me: “you’re a jerk! why are you punishing me like this?!”

he shrugged his shoulders, “i’m not punishing you or anyone. well, maybe i’m punishing myself.”

then he held me in his arms for a good, long hug, and i gently kissed his neck and nestled my face into the sweet space between his neck and shoulder. i miss him so much, and know that hanging out with him is probably not the best thing for me to do at this time, and yet, i hate the thought of cutting him out of my life right now.

ugh! heartbreak just s*cks all-around. i promise eventually, i’ll be back to writing fun, fuck-filled entries. it’s just while i’m healing from my leep procedure and heartbreak, sex is probably the furtherest thing from my mind. i don’t even have the urge to touch myself lately. ugh! now, that’s just sad.

emotional dialing is worse than a drunk one…

jeezus, sometimes i wish i enjoyed drinking or smoking pot or snorting cocaine because that would be better than calling up your ex- sober but delirious with heartbreak emotions.

wtf! i go about my day staring at my cellphone, wondering if he’ll text or call, mostly i’m yearning for him to say, “i’m sorry. i’m an idiot. i let the best girlfriend i ever had walk out of my life because i was stupid, but now i can see it and totally get it. i love you. i’m in love with you. and i never want to let you go ever again.”

this will happen when pigs fly and hell freezes over and e gets his brain alien-abducted switched with the brain of the dream guy i’ve always wanted to meet and thought he just might or maybe could be for me…in other words, this is NOT going to happen.

but i still stare at the phone, wondering, wishing, hoping and then growing desperate as the hours pass…so when i can’t take his absence anymore, usually 3 days, i emotion dial. he answers in his cheery “what’s happening?” way. i turn into mush and start crying, “i miss you. are you ready to come back yet? are you really happy now? was i that miserable to be around? you probably think i’m a total freak, crying like this. i’m sure you’re glad you don’t have to deal with a freak like me anymore. it’s just i’m struggling a lot. for the past month, i’ve been wandering around like a zombie. i suffer from insomnia. i just can’t seem to let go of the fact that we fit so well, you were my ‘home’ and i thought i was yours. there’s so many things i still want to do with you, and now i can’t.”

“we can still hang out as much as you like. i just can’t be your boyfriend.” is his reply. my head gets it, but my heart just winces in pain, and i start to become a blubbering idiot slurring my words with choked up tears until he says, “ummm, well, i gotta go. i’ll talk to you later.”

i’m left sitting in my own pile of tears, tissues, and patheticness that’s been collecting for the last month. i smell like death, worse than death because i’m alive and still decomposing. ugh! i stare at my phone and delete his number, as if this will save me from the next time…i know how to find his number online, if i have to, but i go through the emotions anyway.

i wish i could split myself into three: one can cry as if the world has ended and try to reach for the phone, while the second split can slap the first one silly and go about my life, and the last split can cradle the first one and tell her that it’s going to be all right, this hurts like shit, but eventually, it will hurt less and less until the pain subsides…in time. most importantly, i won’t abandon myself, and i have enough love in my heart for myself and for a happy future with or without e…i deserve it. :)

i wanna hold your hand…

when i was in jr. high school, a friend of mine asked me in a note passed in class, “how do you know if you really like someone?”

my answer was “when you hold hands, you feel electricity tingling throughout your whole body.”

it was that simple. if you held hands and there was electricity, you were meant to be. i think a part of me still holds on to that belief, which seems like why i can’t seem to let e go. i loved holding hands with him. i loved kissing him. i loved fucking him. i loved being held in his arms as we laughed and talked the night away, eventually falling asleep.

e used to do this funny thing where he’d tickle my palm ever so gently, and i asked him why he did that, he replied, “i don’t know. i just enjoy the sensation of it.” i had to agree, there was something so electrifying about it. i miss him tickling my palm. i can still vaguely remember the sensation of his fingers.

i know there’s always the warmth of someone’s hand in yours, such as when my sister and i struggle to find a comfortable hand hold because we’re so used to holding our partners’ hands (there’s an inside and outside position to any hand holding) or when my neice’s tiny fingers grasp onto mine, but holding your lover’s hand feels electric, warm,  and ultimately, “home” wherever you are going. e and i always held hands, even during our “break” and even last week. it’s where my hand belongs when i am in his presence. i feel loved, i feel protected, and most importantly, i feel connected to him—us against the world.

but i realize that when i was twelve, i didn’t understand all the dynamics and intricacies of love. with e, i only experienced the very tip of what a long term relationship can actually be like. now, i’m 35, no matter how much electricity we generate in each other’s embrace, that can’t and won’t save our relationship. it’s over. it didn’t work out.

i look at my empty hand.
i feel so lost inside,
missing his hand that
once made me feel loved.
it sucks. it hurts.
i wish i could be twelve again.

heartbreak is as heartbreak does…

i did something stupid yesterday.

the first part was fine. i met up with andy (an ex from 3 years ago who is now a friend of mine) and had a good fun time over a movie and lunch.

the second part was when the stupid began. i bought a comic book for e, superman #701, since he’s from philly and i guess superman goes to philly. i bought this comic at the end of my hanging out with andy, knowing that i probably shouldn’t buy it, but still just doing it out of habit and missing e.

you see, after i had my leep procedure thursday afternoon, i did everything in my powers not to call e and ask him to come over and hold me. friday, i was mostly proud of myself for not backsliding and being weak, but there was a little part of me that suddenly felt lost, that i had lost the connection with e forever. like somehow in my mind, i had convinced myself that if e really cared for me, he would instinctively feel that something was not quite right and he would have called me to check in on me, but he didn’t, so i got desperate, and i texted him, and then after work, i called him and met up with him at a comic book store. as he was looking at comics, he mentioned that he wasn’t able to get the superman #701 in time, but that he’ll keep looking for it hopefully. i asked him if he could come over that night to hold me, and he was very reluctant to say yes. i felt his rejection yet again, but not as hard, and yet still biting. he replied, “maybe? i’ll think about it.”

later, he called and said that he probably wouldn’t come over that evening, but maybe saturday evening, we could hang out. so after the lovely time with andy, i found myself falling into old habits and buying the superman #701 for e. then e came over, and we watched a movie, sorta holding hands, his foot pressing lightly on mine, and all the old feelings of belonging to him and he to me came rushing back, it felt so comfortable and nice and filled me up with so much hope that we could have this again, this feeling of “home.” we laughed and talked a little in between. then after the movie, i asked if he wanted some ice cream and to watch a silly episode of “jersey shore.” he agreed, but about 10 minutes before the end of the show, he announced that he should probably be going home. i felt the rejection all over again, and my abandonment issues rushed up from my chest, and i went into a pure panic. i pleaded for him to just stay that evening, we wouldn’t do anything but cuddle and sleep. he kept saying, “no, it’s not a good idea. i don’t want to make you feel sad or cry anymore.” after his tenth “no,” i let him go. i wrapped myself in my blankets as tightly as i could and held my stuffed snoopy from my childhood and went to sleep.

of course, like any night from the past month since the break-up, i woke up, feeling like a part of my life was murdered. the thoughts started circling in on me again and again, what did i do wrong? how could i have saved this relationship? how could i have saved myself from falling so deeply for him? why am i so stupid? why am i so pathetic to keep chasing after someone who clearly does not love me or want me? what is my fucking problem? why can’t i just let go?! 

i know that i made e very uncomfortable, so he will most likely not want to hang out with me again in the near future. i think a part of me did this on purpose to get it into my head that things are really, truly, finally over between us…there’s still this part of me that keeps holding onto the idea that e will realize he made a huge mistake and will come back…i need that part of me to truly let go. i’m so sick and tired of feeling so heartbroken inside…it’s like being stuck in tar and no matter how much i wash myself, it won’t come off my body, and the smell of it suffocates my thoughts.

don’t ever regret your life…

i’m lying on the couch, recovering from my leep procedure. about 5 years ago, i found out that i had contracted hpv, the most common sexually transmitted virus. unfortunately, there’s no test for men, so i can’t say who gave it to me. the only way i found out was because i got the type that potentially can cause cervical cancer. my last pap smear came up abnormal yet again, so i decided to go ahead with the procedure.

in my state of heartbroken-ness, i feel like life just really sucks all-around right now, but i got the procedure done, so that i could start to heal physically as well as emotionally and mentally. i just want to feel better all-round. in time, i will feel better. it won’t hurt to get up in the morning in my empty bed. i won’t stare at my phone waiting for his call or text or e-mail. i won’t keep replaying our relationship in my head, trying to figure out what went wrong and how i could have saved it somehow? i’ll remember my life before i met e, and i’ll be happy again.

sometimes i wish i had never met e, just as much as i wish i had never had sex, so i wouldn’t have to be dealing with hpv and cervical cancer. but then again, i think i would not be me, if i had not gone through these experiences. i lived, i loved, i fucked and the best part is that i’m still here. i don’t have cervical cancer. and there’s a guy out there who will fit me so much better than e, and when he meets me, he’ll never ever let me go.

are we all just fucked???!!!

today is the 3rd anniversary of my blog! yup, 3 fucking years of dating and fucking and still ending up sorta fucked up in the end of it all!

the other day, another grade school friend found me on facebook and lo and behold, she’s married with 2 1/2 kids, seemingly happy and well. and then there is me, 35, didn’t get kissed until i was 26, been on over 75 first dates, 20 second dates, and possibly 10 third dates, and just got royally dumped from the longest relationship i have ever had: 7 months. wow! i sound like a total freak?!  

my older sister was in a 20 year long relationship with 2 beautiful children and is now trying to work things out with her ex-husband for her kids’ sakes, while my younger sister just celebrated her 4-year anniversary with her boyfriend and soon-to-be fiance, and my parents have been together for almost 40 years, so it’s not entirely genetic why i’m so fucking awful at relationships?! i have daddy issues like most women in the world. i have had body/food issues as well. i’ve gone around in circles like a dog chasing her own tail around and around again, but can’t make heads or tails of it.

i start to think that my love radar is sorely broken. i keep finding guys who are broken because maybe deep down inside, i feel like i don’t deserve any better. i’m not “good enough” for someone who doesn’t come from a broken home, has emotional issues or is too fucked up to see how amazing i really am…but how can he see what an amazing person i am, if i can’t seem to believe it?!!!

i started to make a list of all the things i did out of love for e, not just the everyday little gifts but all the big stuff:

2 or 3 times a week, i would either make or buy him lunch (he works 5 minutes from my office and since his lunchbreak is only 30 minutes and mine is an hour, i would pick something up or make him something and drop by for 15 minutes of kisses and laughs)

2 or 3 times a week, he would come over to my place or i would go to his, but more often than not, i was the event planner, he would treat me to some dinners while i would buy tickets to shows, events, and adventures galore…i was always the one planning things for us, which was fine because we had so many common interests.

i made him a beautiful notebook with a “rosemary’s baby” theme, a statue head of harley quinn, a little doll that resembled him and that turned into a superhero, drew him comics, and made him a beautiful handmade valentine’s card. each handmade gift was made with such care and more love than i can ever express. he did appreciate each and every one of my gifts, and that made me feel loved and accepted.

i bought him comics, films, books, cds, a microphone for his computer so he could skype with a production team down in la who were filming his screenplay, a special pillow for his neck, and various other treats along the way. he took them and used them and also gave me a few gifts in return when he thought of me during his day.

we would be sure to check in on each other each and everyday, he was the first to hear my good news or bad news or silly thoughts i had throughout the day. we shared a lot of stories from our childhood or ones we made up in our own heads.

each week, he wrote a blog, so i’d read and e-mail or call him to let him know how it was or if he accidentally got a fact wrong or misspelled. i edited some of his other stories as well before he sent them off to contests. he encouraged me to create my own art as well, so we made a wonderful creative team. he even told me that he’s never been able to collaborate the way we have before. he inspired me everyday through our conversations.

and sexually, i gave myself to him as much as i could. in the last few months of our relationship, he had been getting increasing headaches from sex, so i tried to be as gentle with him to the point, sometimes i would tell him that we could just cuddle, if it hurt too much. he was a giving lover, too, but i could tell it was frustrating him to get these headaches and i always felt bad that he wasn’t ever fully hard when using a condom. that was difficult for both of us. with my hpv, he has to use a condom. for him, he was used to going bareback with his previous lovers, so he’d was never completely comfortable having sex with me, i think?! but i thought we both cared enough to work through all that.

i accepted the fact that he’s from a broken home, he came out here to sf all alone, so he needs his best friend sam (his ex who broke his heart by fucking some random guy a week before he got here to be with her in sf), he is a commitment phobe, he needed time to figure things out for himself and for us, he can’t deal with too much stress because  he bottles up all his pain, he wants to someday write for a living, so he’s working really hard to make that dream come true for him and his future, and he is still a lost kid stuck in an almost 40-year-old man’s body. i understand and accepted all of this, and even worked around them because i loved him and wanted to be with him. i rarely nagged, but only voiced my feelings at times or concerns, and we talked…really talked and shared a lot of feelings and past hurts.

yet, after all this, it still didn’t work out. even after all the stuff we shared, it just didn’t fit. he didn’t feel the fireworks and needed to end things with me. WOW! as i write all this stuff down, i have to ask myself, “what is my fucking problem?!”

when or why can’t i love myself as much as i loved him to have recognized that i did try my best, i gave 150% of myself to him, but he only gave me 50% of himself, which at the end of the day, i knew wasn’t enough for me. i require someone to show up in the relationship 100%, so that we together make 2 individuals meeting and sharing a life together. i need to learn to not overextend myself, trying to make up for missing parts of my partner.

but sometimes i wonder if we’re all just so fucked up from various combinations of genetics, childhood, experiences in general (especially in the love dept), and all that makes up someone’s uniqueness that at the end of the day, we’re all too fucked up to really make it work. we’re left trying to find the less fucked up partner to hopefully make a lesser fucked up child together and hope that eventually through the process, we make a slightly lesser fucked up world overall?! FUCK ME!

too many mr. wrongs don’t make it right…

well, so things were ok for a bit, and then it wasn’t ok a whole lot. i was happy to be back with e— i mean we did a whole lot of stuff together. basically, he was my best friend for 7 months. long story short, now i’m dealing with his absence from my life, and it kills me.

guess what happened? hmmm, his ex-, sam is a fucking bitch and e lacks the backbone to realize that he will never be able to open his heart, if he doesn’t let her go. 

ok, so a month ago, it was his birthday, and basically, i knew that her birthday was one day before e’s birthday, so i figured that they would do something together to celebrate. anyhoot, sam goes off to fiji for a vacation for 2 weeks before their birthdays. i asked e if he wanted to have a special dinner cuz his birthday fell on a monday. he agreed. as the weeks got closer to his birthday, he said that he got the whole day off, so i suggested that i would take the day off and we could make a fun birthday adventure, but he said that the dinner would be good. i asked again about a week before his birthday, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted me to make such a fuss about his birthday and i told him that i would love to, so he said he’d think about it, but was  definite on the dinner in the meantime.

alas, sam gets back into town on the wednesday before their birthdays. she demands that he spend time with her to celebrate. he calls me up to cancel dinner with me because that’s the only time they both can hang out for their birthdays. i feel like a complete idiot—a royal ass. i want to just walk away, but i love him too much to give up. i further ask him if it weren’t her birthday the day before his, would he have cancelled on me? he answers, “no. i would never cancel on you. i’m sorry about that.” then i ask him what i mean to him. he answers, “you are the most important woman in my life besides my mom.” after hearing that, i’m good. my heart feels better.

a month later, he is invited to dinner at sam’s. he goes. when i ask him if he got home at a decent time, he tells me he slept over on the couch. instead of moving in with her boyfriend like she had said several months ago, she now lives on a houseboat in sausalito with 2 roommates. this didn’t sit well in my stomach. i tried to confront him about it. he said he didn’t understand why i was freaking out— he didn’t do anything inappropriate and wondered why i couldn’t just trust him. i said i didn’t mind them hanging out, but sleeping over was just uncomfortable for me.

one thing led to another, and i had to question where the hell we were going? was i his girlfriend or just someone he hung out with to pass the time until he did find the “one”? i was willing to see how things went until the end of this year. i still loved him. i still enjoyed spending time with him. i still had hope for us. he said he loved me very much, but wasn’t sure if he was ”in love” with me. he said that when he was around me, he felt safe and that the world couldn’t harm him and felt very taken care of, but he didn’t feel the mad passions of wanting to spend the rest of his life with me and make babies with. he didn’t feel the fireworks with me, so he figured he will never feel them, which for him, meant that it wouldn’t work out between us ultimately.

god, i wish he had a dull machete to sever my arm off slowly sawing back and forth for an hour because that would at least have hurt less than hearing that. i was dumbfounded.

so now, i’ve just been dealing with a broken heart. what’s new? he still wants to be friends, but i just don’t know how to do that right now. i miss him every single fucking day. i cry a lot uncontrollably. i feel like a complete idiot more often than not. it just hurts to the very core of me. i have to kill all the dreams and hopes i had about him. as much as i didn’t want to admit, there were a lot of them growing inside my heart. :(

my therapist says that this is the hard work i have to get through, the lesson of learning to love myself through this heartbreaking process. i’m trying my hardest to stay creative and strong, but god, sometimes the pain is just soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo unbearable that it makes me want to just accept my total defeat and accept that i’m not supposed to be happy in love…the chances of me finding the “right” one is nil.

come saturday, it will be the 3-year anniversary of this blog. when i began writing it, i was going through a really difficult heartbreak, so i guess 3 years later, it’s appropriate that i’m going through another excruciatingly painful breakup. but i’ll be totally honest with you, i had secretly hoped and dreamed back then that i’d be with someone special right now, planning a future together. i don’t regret the experiences i have had, but i think i’m just really tired of the many disappointments i’ve had to nurse my heart through. when am i ever going to get this right?

but as always, thank you for letting me share.

back on the sex saddle again…

first of all, i apologize for my utter silence. i know i probably left some of you worried about my state of mind and heart, while others have moved on to find more titillating blogs to pleasure themselves on.

i had a month of quieting down my head that had been running around in circles and nursing my heart that was inconsolably aching. i even managed to swim 1.2miles, bike 56miles of grueling hills, and run 13.1miles to realize how fucking amazing my body is, especially my heart that kept pumping blood, so i could finish my first half-ironwoman triathlon in a little less than 8 hours. yikes! that was hard. then i got back from my triathlon and settled into my life again with a refreshed outlook.

e and i started hanging out as friends again, and well, let’s just say, we didn’t start off as friends, so it was a very awkward, funny, and sometimes aggravating experience. i still wanted to hold his hand, so he let me. i still wanted to kiss him, so he let me. i still wanted to fuck him, so he let me (not immediately, he did try to resist my advances, but eventually couldn’t resist my succulent lips, abundant breasts, and dripping wet pussy too long). :O it’s been about a month now, we’ve been fucking like rabbits and dating like mad hatters.

i don’t know what’s exactly going on between us, but right now, this is enough for me. i think during our intense relationship before, he was feeling a lot of pressure to be the perfect boyfriend, and i also felt the pressure to be the perfect girlfriend, and let’s just say neither one of us deals with pressure very well. i get ulcers. he gets migraines. don’t we make the perfect pair?!

so now, even though we are seriously INTO each other, we are keeping things light and casual, so we can be together without the stress of a serious we need to decide if we are going to be together leading to a marriage and children sorta relationship. don’t get me wrong, i want to get married or at least find a life partner and have children, but i’m barely learning what a relationship is right now, so i don’t need that kind of forever decision to ruin the fun of dating someone i really like…well, i love as a person…and well, i think i might even love as a boyfriend. i’m still figuring things out. i think a part of me got so utterly hurt by e that i don’t want to let myself fall so deeply again with him, so i’m just playing it cool and letting him fall, if he so chooses to.

AND don’t even get me started on the whole sam business, that’s another blog all onto itself. for now, i’m happy to be back fucking e’s brains out! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO the mindless fun we’ve been having. :O

laughing through my tears…

i’m turning my heartache into art and giggles…

tri training with a broken heart…

so it’s been about a month since e broke up with me. this saturday, i’m competing in my first and probably last half-ironwoman triathlon (wildflower). this last month of training has been difficult to say the least. trying to swim 1.2 miles, bike 56 miles, and run 13.1 miles is challenging in itself, now try to do it with a broken heart that makes you hyperventilate, become asthmatic, or just want to hide under a rock for a thousand years until you finally manage to destroy every nerve ending in your body?! ugh!

for the past 5 months, when i was visualizing the finish line, i saw e cheering me on. i imagined wrapping my arms around him and kissing him passionately afterwards, salty faced from all the sweat and tears that went into this event and a sense of accomplishment, knowing that i had physically fought through the storms and struggles of this triathlon as well as the long road to finding love finally. so when e broke up with me, it broke my sense of stability and contentment and love and purpose. i wanted to throw my arms up and give up on everything, this triathlon, work, dreams, and the hope that my life would work out in the end like a hollywood movie: i’d finally get the guy i deserve!

so i let the little girl in me who believes i’m molly ringwald in “pretty in pink” set out to “say anything” in hopes of winning e’s heart back, play out her fantasies, knowing all the while that it was a futile attempt to convince e who had made his final decision to let us go. necessary? yes!……..stupid? absolutely!

i asked e to meet me for dinner. then i brought out this list of 10 things i might have done that made our relationship a little hard on him. here’s the short version:

1) i didn’t give him enough space at times.
2) i took care of him too much.
3) i put his needs before my own.
4) i didn’t allow him to take care of me.
5) i had a difficult time with his close relationship with sam, (which he finally admitted that he may have some unresolved feelings for sam, so they do have an unusually close friendship).
6) i said “i love you” too quickly and might have put pressure on him to feel the same unintentionally.
7) i wanted us to become best friends, but i shouldn’t have rushed it nor even expect that from him.
8) i didn’t show him 100% of myself (afraid he might not accept all of me).
9) i need to respect whatever he feels/decides/needs, instead of trying to convince him otherwise.
10) due to my triathlon training, i didn’t allow us to have that much spontaneity in our relationship. i planned things ahead of time to fit my training schedule, and he was not someone who likes to plan too much ahead of time.

after i read the note to him, he took it from me and reread the notes and tried to address each point that i made. he agreed that maybe some of this was true, but that he didn’t feel that it would be fair for me to jump right back into the relationship again when he was unclear as to what he wanted ultimately and that he wasn’t sure if he might end up hurting me again. he cares about me a lot, and doesn’t want to continue to breakup and makeup and then break my heart all over again. he asked if we could just meet up as friends and keep it casual, no pressure and see how things turn out. he couldn’t say that we would or wouldn’t work out in the end; he just knew that right now, he didn’t want to continue being a lousy boyfriend to me, someone who couldn’t give 100% of himself to me…at this time.

i went home that night and cried. i mean on the one hand he is telling me that we might still have a chance together, but then on the other hand, he is telling me that he’s confused and not sure if we should be together right now. i feel like i have to accept his confusion as he doesn’t want me at all, but can’t come out and say it plain and simple to spare my feelings. ugh! i want to believe he’s worth waiting for, but then again, what if in the end, he ends up choosing sam after she eventually breaks up with bob? i couldn’t handle that kind of betrayal and heartache. that would just kill me. it already happened to me with asshole jay 3 years ago!!!

in the brief hour and a half that we had been talking, he received 3 texts from sam who was drunk and calling him, “loser faggot” for not coming to a beerfest she was volunteering at that day. he explained that that was how she showed her love, she gets mean when she is drunk, she calls you shitty names out of love—the more she loves you, the worse the names she calls you. as he was saying this, i could only think to myself, “you’ll always choose sam over me, won’t you? you rather receive her twisted, unavailable love than my ever-adoring, available love, and there’s nothing i can say or do to convince you otherwise?”

i especially hate that e’s not coming to the triathlon with me. i mean i understand we’re not a couple, but it makes me upset that he was there for sam for her cooking competition back in february, even though it made me extremely uncomfortable at the time. NOW for me, he can’t support me, especially knowing how important this event was for me all the while we were dating. how many times i rearranged things to fit his schedule, he couldn’t be there for me for my final event? it’s so plain and simple in my face that he doesn’t and will never care about me as much as i care about him nor will he care for me as much as he cares for sam EVER…it hurts like royal shit.

but i have to stay focused and realize that this triathlon was and has always been for me and about me, nothing to do with e. if i get through this event, i will know that my heart is stronger than all of this heartbreak. my heart will pump so much blood, so much love, so much spirit into me with every stroke, cadence and stride i will take this saturday. i am stronger than this heartbreak. if e can’t appreciate and see me for who i truly am, then he is not the right guy for me!!!

so now, i’m working on visualizing the finish line and seeing all the people who do truly love me at the very end, my little sister, her boyfriend and my best friend/roommate and all my fellow training mates and all the friends and family who love me and supported me through the years will be there in spirit. it’s going to be fucking amazing!!! i’m very sorry that e can’t be there for me, but then again, i don’t need nor want someone who doesn’t cherish my love as much as i cherish him.

he loves me not…never will

i’m still nursing my broken heart…through art.

my love clock is broken…

timing is such a finicky thing, especially when it comes to love.

e said that maybe it’s timing, maybe he’s not in a place to be in a serious relationship, and i deserve someone who is. i’ve heard time and time again that when a guy’s ready to marry, he’ll marry the next girl he meets. i, unfortunately, never seem to be that girl or catch a guy when he’s ready to settle down. my timing has been off for most of my life.

recently, a dear old friend of mine who’ve i’ve known for more than half my life asked me out on a date. i sat there looking at the e-mail and rereading it because it came out of left field. i admit that i had a crush on him many years ago before he left for the army, but then he got married and had two children, and i took my own path in life. a few years ago, he was having some difficulties in his marriage, so i encouraged him to get some couples’ counseling for their children’s sake and if he truly loved her and wanted it to work out. i was truly saddened that his wife decided to call it quits and left him with their children in germany. i knew he was starting to give dating a try again, but i had no idea that he even had any feelings or thoughts of that sort about me.

believe me, i was flattered beyond words, but thinking over it a few times inside my head, i realized that i was still madly in love with e and dealing with this massive, gaping hole inside my chest that was still suffocating me with grief. i was in no place or state of mind to be even considering a trip to germany to see what blossomed between my childhood friend and myself. it wouldn’t be fair to him nor myself and i wouldn’t want to risk losing this dear friendship of mine.

i admit that i’ve had fantasies about having a childhood friend whom i trusted and suddenly fell in love with after years of friendship, so suddenly to have that opportunity in front of me, i wished that i was in a different place to actually give it a try with him. logistically, i know it was near impossible to go forward. he lives in germany. i live in san francisco. you can’t base a lifetime on a few weekend visits, nor can i or he move to either locations to actually see if a real relationship could form naturally, so here again, timing kicks me in the ass.

e went to visit his family and friends in new jersey for the last week, and i’ve missed him tremendously. he returns to san francisco this afternoon, and like a dark cloud over eeyore’s head, i feel this tightness in my stomach, and know that i’m not going to feel very well for a few days or weeks. ugh! a part of me still wants him back. a part of me still believes he’ll get off the plane and come running to my office or home and wrap his arms around me and tell me that he realized he was a huge schmuck and he just got scared of falling in love with the real deal.

of course, most of me knows that he won’t do this. he has made up his mind for good, i’ve been through enough break-ups to know that when a guy gets to this point, there’s no reconciliation. the fat lady has sung and is enjoying her champagne bubble bath with her lover. i need to buy myself a clue and let go already.

timing is such a finicky thing, especially when it comes to love. i’m hoping that in time, i’ll get my love clock fixed and back running on longer-lasting batteries, and i’ll finally get it *right*…a girl can always hope.