Guess what???

I have keys... :)

I have my place! It's so sweet! I love it!

Now if only my furniture would move itself...

Warp Speed ENGAGE!!!

Man...

I need to engage my warp speed. Or clone myself.

I have 5 billion things to do at one time and I am trying like hell to keep it all in line.

I move this weekend. Tonight will officially be my last night in this house.

You don't even know...you can't even imagine...

After 4 months of sharing a tiny, cramped, messy room with my daughter - of inhaling dust, dirt and 3-packs a day of smoke - after doing my laundry in a tiny 1 hour time slot during the day, after not cooking for 4 months, after rushed showers in a leaking bathroom, after sleeping on a cot, after being confined in this space ---

My own place.

Mine.

There aren't words.

I half expect to hear angels sing when I turn that key in the lock the first time. I expect a ray of light to shoot from the heavens and illuminate me as I cross MY threshold.

I'm beyond exhausted. I've worked all day, all night and then packed after. I'm averaging 4 hours of sleep. My body is sore.

But it's worth it...

I want to know how it's going to feel. I want to know if I will be happier. I want to know if I will feel better.

Shoo!

"Go play with someone your own age," I told him when he flirted heavily with me again at work.

He's 22. He has bedroom eyes, a bad-boy personna and he can make me blush faster than anyone I know. If he were 8 years older I'd have an eye on this one.

"I like older women," he told me.

I shot him a middle finger.

Later when I was lugging empty boxes out of the restaurant he raised an eyebrow.

"I'm moving this weekend," I reminded him.

"Ooooh, right. Right by me, aren't you?"

He's right. He'll be around the corner from me. His parents own a small mansion in a community next to mine.

"Maybe I'll come by sometime?" he said.

"Sure, my daughter has PlayStation," I shot back as I left.

Twenty-two. I know there are those who think a 'boy toy' is just what I need, but I can't be that person. I'm not interested in casual sex, I'm not interested in someone so much younger and I'm not going to play with this co-worker because that never ends well. A boy who still turns pale at the idea of children - while I am a single mom. A boy who still lives with his parents. A boy.

It's a shame because he's really yummy, but I'm going to pass.

I'm exhausted now. I went to the Weston house to pack my kitchen last night after work. Jeff wasn't there. I packed several boxes before I noticed I was practically asleep on my feet, so I headed back home and crashed. I have to do it again tonight.

I really hope this move happens. Money is SO tight.

I keep wondering - will I be happier when I move? What if I get there and I am still so miserable? What then?

Just Blue

After such an incredible night, you wouldn't think I could feel blue today, would you?

But I do.

In ways, last night was like a brutal therapy.

First of all, if you aren't familiar with Blue October you really are missing out. I have never in my life been a huge fan of any one particular group but I am a devotee of B.O. And their current album Foiled is practically a diary of my relationship with Jeff - in some of the most eerie ways.

The lead singer and songwriter, Justin, has battled mental problems, depression and addictions for most of his life. You only have to hear a song to hear Jeff's 'inner voice' speaking and even Jeff himself admits that the songs resonate in him. "I could have written these," he says.

So it was a little hard to re-experience it all. When they closed with Hate Me, a song Jeff still dedicates to me, I had tears on my cheeks. The songs speaks of a tormented man who admits that a woman has been there for him and understood him and begs her to learn to hate him in order to "see what's good" for herself and to prevent him from hurting her again. Jeff and I may get along fine now, but he still seems to wish I would just hate him and disappear even when he puts himself in my path. It's a sort of "save yourself from me" ballad.

Although the lead singer, Justin, and Jeff could be described as one and the same personality-wise. Justin has managed to marry and is expecting his first child. When I spoke with him last night, one woman approached him and asked if she could kiss his cheek and he said "No, I'm married."

Jeff would have never said that.

I drove home alone and I wondered if anyone would ever love me again. I cried some more.

Love has always held a front and center role in my life. I consider it to be of the greatest importance. I consider life without it to be meaningless. A life without love isn't a life at all.

But will I ever love or be loved again?

It's been nearly 5 months and I still cry every day. I think it's safe to say that I am not getting over this.

On my MySpace page, I had an email from a 31 year old man in Greece. He emailed me to say "It's terrible that such a sexy woman is so unhappy". He wrote that based on one - and only one - blog entry I posted where I wrote "Everything hurts" and nothing more.

I'm not so sure about the sexy part, but the unhappy part is true enough.

I am empty. I am lost without a partner to love and anchor me. I feel like I am dying without someone to share my life with. Even as I wrote that, I am surprised by how true it is - that's what this all feels like to me...a slow death. Like a piece of me dies every day.

Working two jobs and playing single mother leaves me no time to go out and meet anyone - and I wouldn't know where to begin anyway. Online dating is not for me - it's tacky and kills the romance of it all.

My life is passing me up daily and I am trapped in a life that can't afford me the luxury of love.

It's only my daughter that keeps me alive at all. If not for her, I would have killed myself a while ago.

How Was My Night?

Hmmm...

Imagine your #1 favorite band of all time.

Now imagine you're at a private party for them. There's only about 80 people there. You're 4 feet away from your FAVORITE lead singer for an entire concert. There's eye contact (he's awesome at making eye contact in his shows).

Later, after the show you are sitting on the sidewalk and the bass player comes out and asks you for a light. You chat. In a few more minutes you have chatted with every member of the band.

Then wrap your night up hugging the lead singer you are madly in love with.

Add a blurry picture and you're done.

It may be blurry, but this is my favorite picture of all time now...me and Justin Furstenfeld of Blue October...

Blue Monday

No, I'm not feeling blue - I'm actually feeling just fine.

I've posted before about my absolutely favorite band - Blue October. Serendipity - I got an email Sunday inviting me to a FREE concert tonight by Blue October at a local nightclub. They added my name to the guest list and I'm all set! I'm beyond thrilled. This is the same band I drove 400 miles to see in January.

I was scheduled to work tonight but Mondays are devastatingly slow nights. I was able to give my shift away and I'm excited to spend my night adoring Justin Furstenfeld (lead singer).

In other news - not much. Nothing of note is going on in my life. All the focus is on my move this Friday.

I mentioned a few posts back this guy (Brian) who I kept running into online and how we'd discussed meeting up. Well, not quite. Brian has just gone back to his ex-wife for the 4th time. I had no plans to date the guy, but it's still not looking too bright to further communicate with him either. So...seeya, Brian - and good luck!

My Looking Glass

I went to a midnight movie last night with some girls from work and we had a great time. We saw Premonition - which was...difficult. Ultimately, it was a fine time, but it was slow, hard-to-follow and was disappointing in general.

That's the least of it.

My body aches from working so much. I've worked non-stop and I'm sore. I've picked up shifts and now I won't have a night off until moving day - but the money is critical now. You do what you have to do, right? This is what I have to do to get this roof over our heads.

I had a dream about Brad. I was stranded on an island a la "Lost" with a group of my co-workers and Brad was there. We'd infiltrated "the others" camp and been captured. One "other" revealed to me a way off the island - but when I tried to round up my co-workers they were like lost sheep - dazed and distracted and unable to really keep up. I ran across Brad who was trying to coach a ball game. I walked up to him and kissed him. Then I left.

I had an interesting conversation with Jeff over the past few days.

Once, he said to me "I'm a bad habit" - to which I replied "and I will kick you" and he said "then I will just be someone else's bad habit."

"Probably," I told him.

I am working on it.

The problem in my life is this. I feel like I have two men in my life, and two men only. Brad and Jeff. One who doesn't care about me, but pretends he does and one who 'supposedly' does care about me and pretends he doesn't. Ultimately, I am stressed, struggling to make ends meet and deal with traumas and fears and I feel very much alone.

One man pushes me away. One man opens the door to me everytime. When I desperately need someone to be there for me - only one man shows up time and time again. When I need to be held, when I need to feel connected to something, when I need company - only one man lets me in.

It's just that it's the wrong man again and again.

I'm stuck. I have no time in my frantic schedule to go out and meet new men. I have no desire to take on a 22-year old "boy toy" lover who is also a co-worker that I'd have to face regularly. I have no interest in the magic-less world of online dating. I have no way out of this box I am inside of and most of the time I feel like emotionally I am stranded on that deserted island with two men...one who pushes me away and one who lets me in.

So, it's of small consequence usually that the one who lets me in is only using me right back in those moments.

I have actually had some clarity. So, while it seems like I've made no progress, I actually have had some realizations that are ultimately good ones.

I do want someone so badly in my life - and I do feel like I can not move on so long as I am trapped on my deserted island with only two men. But just like the survivors on Lost I am without the means to escape it for the moment.

But I would really like to.

A Step Away

I had a strange sort of realization last night. Something that I thought I wanted very much fell into my hands and I realized that it was an illusion. I didn't want it as much as I thought I did. In fact, I didn't really even like it.

It's made me realize that I have some things to put into perspective. I'm not sure how to do it - but maybe the realization was a start.

Truthfully - I think I am torn between relieved and disappointed.

Questions in the Dark

He asked me what I was thinking - in a way that sounded like he actually cared.

I lied. I said I was thinking about the ceiling fan I had painted.

I should have told him the truth. That I don't tell people what I am thinking anymore.

I could tell he was thinking himself.

I told him I didn't want to know what he was thinking.

It was the most honest thing I could have said.

Recovering

I continue to feel a bit better even though the signs of stress and depression are on me. I'm dying to sleep all day and not sleep at all during the night.

I'm feeling better day by day about the stabbing last weekend too. I think the closer bond we're all sharing at work has really made a difference.

Last night, Jeff was out of town and due back late at night. When I picked Taylor up, I took a moment to spend an hour in the house just reading and relaxing while she played with her friends. The house smelled awful and I lit a candle just to be able to breathe. He'd left dirty dishes all over the place and something was rotting away. Still, it was nice to relax there. I remember looking around and thinking "I was happy here" with a touch of sadness.

The counselor encourages us to go to a happy place in our mind when the memories of the stabbing surface. I didn't know how to tell her that I can't go back to my happy place.

Brad accepted an invite to join Taylor and I for a quick dinner. He was still standoffish but he went.

It made me shake my head...two men. One who doesn't care about me, but is great at pretending that he does and one who supposedly does care about me but is great at pretending he doesn't.

I was just about to hit bed when I remembered the candle. Did I blow it out? I have a terrible habit of forgetting...I was sure I had left it burning. I cursed and swore for a bit and then after I put Taylor to bed I headed back.

When I arrived, Jeff was home. I cursed and swore some more and then called him to say I was out front. He had me come in and we sat and watched TV for a bit. We're a fan of most of the same shows, so it was comfortable and relaxing to just hang out that way. He sat close and sprawled across the couch in a way to be sure he leaned against me.

He hugged me when I left. It made me think back to earlier in the night...I went to hug Brad (who had his arms folded) and he kept them folded as I hugged him.

It feels like there are already two men that I love in my life - how could there ever be room for someone new? The trouble is that neither man can love me back.

I really wish I had someone special in my life.

Speaking of - there's a bizarre online thing going on for me right now.

About two months ago, a guy contacted me on MySpace and for some odd reason we began to chat - I almost NEVER chat online with people. He'd been through much the same as me and was broken up and we connected right away on a friends level. We talked about meeting for lunch someday and then he and his wife tried (unsuccessfully) to reconcile.

Over the past two months, this guy (Brian) and I keep bumping into one another online. He stumbled on my old Yahoo Personals ad. I accidentally came across his new MySpace page. With billions of people online - we have accidentally (without looking) run across each other dozens of times.

He's local and we're both interested in friends only talk. No friends-with-benefits, no romance, nothing more than friends. I think we may finally meet up since we ended up in contact again last night. It just strikes me as odd the way he keeps turning up.

He's still hung up on his wife, just as I am still hung up on the men in my life. I'm sure we'll have much to talk about...

The restaurant I work in plays country music all night - this song keeps running through my head:

Ain't it just like one of us to pick up the phone
and call after a couple drinks
And say: "How you been?
I been wonderin' if maybe you've been thinkin' 'bout me."

And somewhere in the conversation,
an old familiar invitation always arrives,

And I may hate myself in the morning,
but I'm gonna love you tonight.

Everyone's known someone
that they just can't help but want;
And even though we just can't make it work out,
well the want-to lingers on.
So once again we wind up in each other's arms,
pretending that it's right,

And I may hate myself in the morning,
but I'm gonna love you tonight.

I know it's wrong,
but it ain't easy moving on.
So why can't two friends
remember the good times once again?

Tomorrow when I wake up,
be feeling a little guilty,
and a little sad,
Thinkin' how it used to be
before everything went bad.

And I guess that's what it is,
in lonely late night calls like this,
that we try to find;

And I may hate myself in the morning,
but I'm gonna love you tonight.
I may hate myself in the morning,
but I'm gonna love you tonight.

Slow

I did finally speak to a counselor at the EAP (Employee Assistance Program) yesterday and found it a waste of time. She was nice, but I really didn't need a stranger telling me "Just remember to eat, sleep and exercise".

Huh?

I've barely eaten. I can't sleep and exercise? Just not up to it.

What did help was another story. My restaurant held a 3:00 meeting with anyone who wanted to talk and our General Manager.

I wasn't sure who would show - but a handful of us did. We all agreed that we felt closer. Some of us cried. The Manager in Training - now a new hire manager for us told us his version of events. He was the one who pulled Javi off of Lamar and basically saved Lamar's life. He's probably the most shaken of us.

It helped to talk this way and my General Manager expressed his concerns for me. He'd heard I'd been down. At the end, he hugged me.

I worked last night and my 'real' help began. Tuesdays are my favorite nights. We have a good mix of staff and we all like working together on Tuesdays. I found myself enjoying the night - laughing with co-workers, teasing others, flirting with the 22-year old cook who can make me blush in a wink and best of all I made good money. I only had 6 tables all night but every check was $100 or more and I made $100 in tips.

So, last night - I slept.

My next major hurdle is this move. I'm unfortunately counting on a large chunk of money that is supposed to be direct deposited into my bank on Friday. If it doesn't hit I wil panic because I'll be almost $900 short. If it DOES hit I will be relieved beyond words.

So, now I wait.

I have a meeting with the Homeowner's Association in an hour or two to review the rules of the community.

I think that once Friday passes, I will be relieved and ready to move ahead. Right now I am still just a ball of stress.

And still lonely.

Falling Apart Again

I'm unfocused. I'm stressed to the maximum of what I can tolerate. This morning I blew my top on Taylor because she did something stupid and irresponsible.

After I dropped her off, I called the Employee Assistance Program hotline to talk to someone. They said someone would call me back, but when they did it was 30 minutes later and I was already at work and could not talk then.

My fuse is lit and I feel like I am falling apart. The pressure on me is so heavy and intense that I can't breathe. I'm supposed to move in 10 days and the HOA has been completely unresponsive to my approval process. I'm tired from work. I'm stressed from the crisis. I'm feeling VERY alone. I'm deeply depressed and barely want to go on.

I know that the incident triggered much of this in me.

I've walked around feeling like it should have been me.

I'm tired, used, broken down, unhappy and alone. It should have been me who was killed (or the victim of the attempted murder) rather than some young new father with a wife and a happy life.

PTSD at it's finest, folks.

I'm Not Sleeping

Somehow the memories of what I saw and heard Saturday night are intensifying for me. In my head I can still hear the screams of "He's stabbing him! He's stabbing him!" and now, when I hear it in my head, I get a full body tremor.

I'm having trouble sleeping.

I did go back to work last night. It was slow - not a lot of people anxious to eat at a crime scene where an employee stabbed another employee over and over with a huge knife.

The interaction between the staff was different. Closer. We'd all been through the same thing. None of us had slept much. There were hugs. There was a LOT of talking - they're really encouraging us to talk to each other and the managers, just not the tables. People recounted what they saw or heard. Most of it was the same. It just depended on where you were in the restaurant.

I was somewhat in the middle of lucky and unlucky. I was lucky to have been in the front section of the kitchen. I heard everything from immediately before to during to after and I froze. I had been heading to the exact spot this happened. Apparently I saw Lamar (the man who was stabbed over 10 times) staggering towards me and somehow I have entirely blocked that memory from my mind. The human mind is a fascinating thing. Apparently there were only 3 of us in the front "alley" of the kitchen at that moment - Kayla, my sister and me and when Lamar tried to flee the kitchen covered in 10+ stab wounds (4 in the neck) and blood running off of him like a river - my sister began to approach him and I yelled at her "Come away from there! Sara! Come away from there!" and she turned and saw me shaking violently and she raced to me. Lamar went back into the kitchen and I never remember seeing him, but I do remember that suddenly there was massive pools of blood on the floor in front of me and I had no idea how they got there. I stood for what seemed like hours staring at the blood and shaking.

I'm getting worked up just writing it all now.

The news reports that the stabbing followed an argument. That's a lie. We all unanimously agree on that. Javi - the man who did the stabbing - is a quiet, sweet and pleasant 43 year old family man. He was apparently having marital problems. Lamar (the victim) apparently passed him and dropped a bag that fell and bumped Javi's foot and Javi picked up the largest meat-cutting knife we have (think Psycho knife) and just began to stab Lamar over and over.

I heard yelling. I heard crashing as pots, pans and the meat slicer fell to the ground with Lamar. I heard someone yell "He's stabbing him! He's stabbing him!" and I heard Lamar saying "What did I do? What did I do?"

Javi was pulled off of him after Lamar had been stabbed over 10 times, 4 times in the neck. How Lamar is alive right now is a fucking miracle. Lamar had a baby 3 weeks ago with his wife.

Javi was locked in the managers office where he sat quietly and dazed waiting for the police. Towels and linens were held on Lamar and they shouted at him to keep him conscious.

Half my co-workers were covered in blood. There was so much blood. My manager's pants were soaked and stained, employee shirts were spattered and stained and the floor...the floor was pools of it.

I didn't go in the back. I didn't see how much blood was back there. I'm told it was bad.

I have to admit that I feel like I am hanging on by a thread. I am so shaken and upset and confused and afraid. I know Javi is in jail, but I keep thinking that if I bump someone they could stab me to death. I'm afraid. I'm traumatized.

Drama does seem to follow me. You have to be asking if I am making this shit up. I am not. As hard as it is for even me to believe - I am not making this up. I wish to god I was. I wish this was some elaborate story I made up and that I wasn't sitting here shivering and feeling like my body could split into a million pieces any second.

The local reaction got under my skin. The news story in the Sun-Sentinel allows pepole to post comments and they ranged from tasteless jokes to racist remarks on "spics and spooks" and the scum bags that work in the kitchens.

Not our kitchen. I love my co-workers.

I am not angry at Javi. I don't think I am afraid of him although when they led him past me in cuffs, I almost put myself through a wall backing away. Javi has kids and I am worried about his family. Javi just snapped and after what I have been through myself, I think that I can understand. I wish I knew he had been having problems. I wish I had had a chance to talk to him about how many times I felt that same feeling of losing my mind only to hang on to my daughter to keep myself together. I wish I could have told him to do that. I wish I could have helped. I wish I had not been frozen in fear. I wish I could have stopped him. I wish I could have saved Lamar. I wish I could have saved everyone who is feeling like I am right now. My friends...my co-workers - the people I spend almost every night with...they're all hurting too and none of us know what the fuck to do.

I do seem to experience life-changing trauma after trauma, don't I? Roofs falling on my head in the middle of hurricanes, losing babies, dating sociopaths...and that's just in the past 2-3 years. Don't get me started on my childhood.

Am I jinxed? Am I drawing these things to me? Am I a danger to people?

I have so many thoughts - all so scattered. I am so screwed up right now.

Let's Play "Who Had the Worst Night Tonight"...

I went to work tonight in a good mood, prepared to make a lot of money.

I didn't expect to be a witness to an attempted homicide. I didn't expect to go into shock staring at a bloody floor. I didn't expect to be giving statements to police.

I walked into the kitchen and everything was normal. I had 3 tables. Suddenly, there was a commotion from the cooks area just out of my line of sight that sounded like yelling and pots and pans crashing. I froze. I heard someone scream "He's stabbing him, he's stabbing him!"

I stayed frozen. I had no idea what was happening. I didn't know if a customer had gone back there or if a madman had run in or what...

I shit you not, tonight at work, a fellow employee picked up a gigantic knife and stabbed another employee in the neck 4 times for no apparent reason. Both men are nice, sweet, quiet and long-time guys.

The details are a bit like flashes from a bad dream. I remember the sounds. I remember seeing my general manager covered in blood yelling to call 911. I remember going to my tables not knowing what the fuck to say to them. Gee, your orders going to be a bit longer - we're down two cooks?

The police came and locked down the restaurant. They had every patron leave. One lady actually had a heart attack and more paramedics were called. In retrospect, it's astonishing that I did not have one myself. They shut us down for the night. We were all interviewed and then released.

The moment they locked us down I walked up front and saw Brad and Taylor outside. They were coming to eat and see me. I went outside and hugged them and filled them in and told them to leave.

When I left the restaurant, I was still in shock. I still am now.

I can't believe this was my night. This is too surreal for words.

The Deceivers

Brad may be the writer, but I have to admit that I have many times wished I could write a book. I have the story, the title and the tragic plot twists but whenever I have sat in front of a blank Microsoft Word page, I just go blank on how to even begin it.

MWCB's comments in my last post were somewhat on the mark. I have to disagree with his thinking Brad wants me and I don't want him. The truth is that he doesn't want me. He did once but he got over it. No matter how skilled a man might be at hiding his feelings, I can't imagine that some hint wouldn't slip through and Brad is like a brick wall that I have run up against. As for me wanting him, I have many times thought I do...or might...but because our relationship is probably the most important one in my life I have (for once in my life) tread lightly and wanted to be able to be sure about exactly what I felt before I voiced that to him and he has denied me any opportunity to find out. I think if I spent time with him alone, either that old chemistry would resurface and shine....or not. Without that time, it's irrelevant. It's a mystery I can't solve and it's too important to 'guess' at.

I would call my book The Deceivers and it would ultimately serve as a warning to anyone who loves.

My characters would include:

Brad, the steadfast but somewhat irresponsible writer who cherishes his family but loses himself in his own failures just long enough to turn to another woman through the safety of the internet...ultimately changing the dynamics of the family he loves. A tiny slip, an error in judgement, a small opening in his life to an outside predator and he becomes a deceiver.

Christine, the follow-your-heart dreamer who cherishes her family but has great frustration with Brad's lack of responsibility and motivation and is changed and hurt by his indiscretion to the point that she later loses her own heart to the interloper and becomes a deceiver herself.

Jeff. the professional con-artist sociopath who is lost in himself and sees Brad and Christine's marriage as a symbol of his own romantic failures and decides to destroy it and take it for his own - forgetting that he can never be the other half of a perfect match because of his own inner demons. One true partner does not a 'partnership' make. Jeff would be the master deceiver.

So far, the story only chronicles the lasting pain of decisions made for the wrong reasons and all three end up lost and alone.

I'd really like my story to have a happy ending, but I can't imagine introducing a 4th character to my story to give my heart to and find that elusive happy-ever-after ending - and the Hollywood twist to make every reader swoon would ultimately have to be Brad and Christine finding one another again and I just don't see that as being possible.

Still, maybe someday I will write it and create my own fictitious ending. The only problem is that it would be like reliving it all and would hurt so much.

But you have to admit...a work of fiction that links back to my blogs of the past 3 years would be interesting reading.

If only I knew how to write...

Right now, the blank Microsoft Word page just haunts me like an impending surgery that I am not sure I will survive.

Explaining/Exploring

The details of yesterday are a little clearer now - for you anyway. I was too upset to explain myself well yesterday.

Basically, Brad called me and I knew right away that there was a 'tone'. He asked me why the hell I was going to Jeff's house every night. I asked him where he was getting this information and he wouldn't say.

He told me he felt like a chump helping watch Taylor while I worked so much and I was running off to see Jeff. I corrected him in that at no time has he ever watched Taylor while I was at Jeff's house. The only times I went was after work when Taylor was asleep, in bed and under my stepfather's supervision.

He seemed to be under the impression that I was moving back to be with Jeff. I was stunned by this one. That's not even on the scope of reality.

We argued everything from past to present. I told him I had questioned my feelings for him and that I had extended him no less than 497 invitations to try to get to spend time with him and figure out my feelings...all of which he declined. He said "Well, you have to understand..." and I said that I did understand perfectly. He didn't owe me anything and I know I hurt him and I was his Jeff. I get it.

The most important point I tried to make was this...

I work no less than 80 hours a week. I wake at 6 am Monday through Friday to drive my daughter 1 hour round trip to her old school. I get home by 8 am just in time to start work. Usually I am 5-10 minutes late and I get yelled at every single day for it.

At 4:15 pm I take the world's fastest shower and hope my day job phone doesn't ring during that time. If I miss a call, I get yelled at.

At 5 pm, I race at top speed out of the house to drive 30 minutes to my night job. I am always exactly 7 minutes late. I never get yelled at for it. I do my hair and make-up in the car at red lights.

At 5:30 I begin my 2nd job (ok, 5:37) where for 4.5 hours I run around refilling drinks, taking orders, bussing tables and trying to charm my tables into a 20%+ tip. No matter how tired I am, I must always be smiling and cheery and witty. My tables can never know that I am starving while I serve them prime rib.

Somewhere between 10:30 and 11 I am finally done. I finish up and leave. On an average night, I go home where I stumble up stairs and trip over 37 things in my bedroom in the dark. I typically manage to peel off my socks and my shirt and sleep in my bra and my work pants.

Then I wake up and do it again. And again. And again.

When I have time to think, I hurt. You honestly can't imagine how isolated I feel or how much I need someone to just hug me or kiss me or even just talk to me and make me laugh.

I have no time to 'meet' people. I did make the decision not to date anyone right now. I don't even want to consider introducing a new person into my circus life.

So, when Jeff was emailing me and when he asked me to come by - I went. Partly out of curiousity. When he rubbed my back it was the most amazing gift....I hadn't been touched in many months and my back is always sore.

When we talked, we laughed.

When we kissed, I melted.

When he hugged me, it was like clinging to life.

Essentially the very "evil" Jeff managed to provide some very basic and essential touches that I was withering and dying without. For a few days I didn't have to feel lonely anymore. I even laughed real laughs. I can't deny it - it was fun.

I needed it so much.

Brad tried to describe his own loneliness and I had to correct him...he had his family giving him FULL support. He had his friends - many of them - vying for time with him. His social life took off because he was suddenly free to go party and play. Mine withered and died because I work 7 days a week.

So, it fucking pisses me off that he would dare to judge me. What exactly did he have to be angry about. He doesn't want me - he made it clear and I do not blame him. He doesn't want me to bring Jeff back into our daughter's life (an opinion I have ALWAYS fully agreed with and have abided by - my daughter has no idea I've even spoken to Jeff) and he doesn't want me reconciling with Jeff (no worries, Jeff dates other women and does not date me).

I recognize how pathetic the situation is. I truly do. I am seeking whatever comfort I can and the only person who offered it is Jeff.

Truth be told, the sex was secondary. It was just being kissed, touched, having my back rubbed or talking that lit me up inside and made me feel semi-alive again and human instead of robotic and exhausted.

It eased some pain for me. I was able to be more cheerful. I was able to feel better.

You know what really was the best? The night I just curled up on the couch beside Jeff and cried. I cried for a million reasons - being tired, afraid, stressed and drained. He didn't make me talk. He didn't lecture me on how strong I need to be. He just stroked my hair and let me cry and when I was done, he hugged me.

I have been strong. I have pushed myself harder than ever before in my life. But, damnit, I needed someone to let me just feel something - anything - again and the only person who seemed to understand that was Jeff.

My family is not supportive. My dad is my daytime boss. He screams at me for 8 hours a day for everything - things the other employees or customers do, for being 10 minutes late, for leaving at 5 when he feels like I should work nights (for free) for him instead...my mother is consistantly absent, my sister is busy with her wedding next month and my best friend is in North Carolina and dealing with her own drama.

Did I mention I was exhausted? I keep losing weight. It doesn't matter that I eat nothing but crap on the run. I bought black pants for work a couple of weeks ago and the damned things are already too big. They're a size 8. I needed a new work uniform shirt and I had to take a 'medium' (my breasts are still large enough to require a medium MINIMUM) over my usual 'large'. I'll likely be a size 6 in a few more weeks. Through no effort. Considering I was a size 14 when this started...it's a lot. You would think I would be ecstatic but I am just tired of buying new clothes that I can not afford.

I know that playing with Jeff is like playing with fire. Believe me, I know. But when you are shivering and bone-cold, fire can be mighty handy at warming you up and I needed it.

I still do, but I have made the decision on my own to move past Jeff. I can't swear I won't go back to his house for comfort some night. I can't swear I won't sleep with him again.

Ultimately, the decision and all of it's consequences are mine and mine alone. ALONE. A word I am coming to know well.

Stage 2

Anger has set in.

Fuck you.

Here's the deal. I screwed up my marriage by falling in love with a professional con artist who made me believe in the moon and stars. Karma hit hard and I got what I deserved and I have been punished.

But enough is enough.

I'm sick of the people around me who expect me to be so strong. I'm not always so strong and you've only made it feel like I let you down when I cry. I try to be strong, but I am lonely and scared and full of pain and no one has a right to expect me to just get over it.

Yes, I went to Jeff. I was lonely and he let me in. For about a week and a half that makes him the ONE fucking person in my life who reached out to me.

Brad behaved like I had cheated on him all over again. He forgets that I reached out to him and was denied (rightfully so) yet he blames me for enjoying the ONE brief period of attention anyone paid to me.

My Texan commenter blames me for feeling anything at all.

Look, I get up - I work. I finish and go to work AGAIN. I come home. I sleep. I spend time with my daughter, I work my ass off to provide for us -but somewhere SOMEHOW I deserve to have someone pay attention to ME. Someone to care how MY day was or to invite ME to talk or hang out.

So, I did it. I enjoyed every damned minute of something I had been STARVING for. I called it off because of my own reasons, but I don't have to explain it or justify it to ANYONE.

I spent the holidays alone. I spend every fucking day alone. Other than my daughter, I have no companionship at all and YES it HURTS.

I wasn't cheating, I wasn't neglecting my sleeping and supervised child, I wasn't ducking work or shirking my responsibilities...I was letting ONE person who SOUGHT me out pay attention to me. No, I'm not thrilled that it turned out to be Jeff but there is a certain irony in the fact that he ended up being the only one there.

I'm done explaining myself to anyone. My obligations are met, my duties are fulfilled and so-FUCKING-what if I spent a few nights letting someone I once loved very much shower ME with attention?????

It's over by my choice - and if I change my mind again and let one more night happen at some point - that's MY damned choice - but you know what???

For the first fucking time in 4 MONTHS I got to NOT be so damned lonely and it was worth it.

Busted...

The title may seem glib, but the post is not. I'm busted. I told Brad I was going by to drop money off to Jeff last night (insurance money) and today I was confronted by phone about what's going on.

I wasn't sure where he'd gotten his information from...so I admit that I didn't admit that I had slept with Jeff. But now I know it was pointless anyway because I just this moment found out how Brad knew.

He read this blog.

He had every right to. It's unfortunate that he read it just as I decided to 'end' it with Jeff and not in the future when it was a thing of the past but I suppose to some extent it's just as well.

The conversation actually gave me a chance to understand it all myself.

I did what I did because I am lonely. I don't know that I even realized it until I had to explain my actions.

I've posted about countless invites extended to Brad that he refused. My sister-in-law's fiancee says I call her too much. There's NO one that wants to spend time with me in my life and when Jeff called I went running as much because someone called at all as because it was him.

I admit that Jeff is the last person I should spend time with, but I can only defend my actions by saying that until you are as alone as I am you can not judge.

Either way, I have no plans to see Jeff anymore or to continue seeking attention from him. I'm not proud of what I did, but I don't regret it either. I can honestly say that for the brief time I played along, I enjoyed someone's attention again.

Swing Away

I think I posted a week ago about a co-worker who I had confided in about Jeff that told me "I can't make you stop, I can't tell you what to do because you will do it anyway. But he hurt you before and he'll hurt you again and when you have had enough, you will stop".

I think I understand now. It's time to say goodbye.

I went to Jeff's house after work last night again. We ate dinner together - I had brought a few things from the restaurant - and then chatted and ended up with the backrub foreplay. God, it feels so good when he rubs my back.

He gave me a great massage and we were giggling and playing like kids. He was straddling me as he rubbed and I eventually turned over under him and he continued to straddle me. He leaned in and began to kiss me.

Again, it was different.

He took his time kissing me. My mouth, my face, my neck...as far as sex goes, it was passionate and somewhat tender and really nice. After it was over, he continued to kiss me for a bit before rolling aside and lying beside me talking for a bit.

Eventually I left.

I love him. I know that I do. The sound of his voice, the kiss, the touch, the feel of him...I love him. I don't choose to love him, but I am in love with him in ways I never knew. Ways that overtake me. Ways that push my common sense aside and let me succumb to him just to have a moment with him.

I love him.

It seemed easy at first. I love him, he's willing to use me - why not enjoy it for a bit?

It's stopped being easy.

I know as soon as I left he was probably online picking up other women. I know that he either does not love me or does not realize he loves me. Either way. I know this is doomed.

And I am only hurting myself, lowering my value, giving him my heart again when he is not deserving of it.

The bottom line is that I know that I have to stop. The question on my mind is whether or not I tell him that I am stopping and why or just start avoiding him. Do I tell him "Hey, listen - I know this is easy for you but I'm in love with you and this isn't right for me. I can't give you myself when you don't hold me in any value and I can't do this anymore"? Do I just try to avoid him?

I came to this decision last night. This morning my horoscope summed it up for me...

You have very real feelings of insecurity that can prevent you from letting go. The Moon in your 12th House of Endings, though, gives you an opportunity to dig into the hidden corners of your mind and to release old wounds now. This profound work can be done while multitasking in the real word, so keep one foot on dry land while you are exploring your inner realms.

Maybe this all served to give me closure. Maybe leaving him with a kiss instead of anger was the purpose after all. Maybe I am going to better be able to let go now that I can do so gently instead of with force and fire.

In other news, work was very funny last night.

Meet Chris. Chris is a young, punk of a line cook. A solidly built guy who is rough to say the least. Outspoken, tough - the sort of guy you know would probably slash your tires if you pissed him off - and our line cooks are easily pissed off.

I'm pretty sure I commented on him awhile back. He has beautiful eyes and I have enjoyed just watching him. I told a few close co-workers that I thought he had such beautiful eyes and they were all shocked. "Chris?????" they would gasp.

Sunday night, at closing time, a host-promoted-to-waiter was doing his closing sidework which was coffee. He was cleaning the machines and he asked me what else he needed to do. I handed him a pitcher and told him to empty the hot water in the machines and showed him how the hot water levers on the front would pour out the water. For those of you that don't know, the joke is that the machines are connected to water lines and no matter how long he went, he was never going to 'empty' them. No one saw or heard me do this prank, but moments later Chris walked by and pulled the same gag which really sealed the deal.

We were doubled over in laughter. Later I told Chris that I had commented on his beautiful eyes and what the reactions had been and he was torn between flattered and offended by the responses. He kept saying "That's not right!"

Last night, I noticed I had Chris's full attention. He was full of chatty comments and clearly had enjoyed my flattery and was like a puppy back for more treats. The normally cantankerous guy was in my way at every turn with cutesy jokes and the like.

Once he was in the kitchen and I needed a cutting board by his knees. I bent to get it and he said, "Hey, I don't know you that well yet!" and I told him I knew he'd have a comment. He argued that I shouldn't see him as predictable and I told him every guy was. He told me he wasn't 'every guy'.

Isn't that what 'every guy' says?

We had a conversation about age and he revealed that he is 22. TWENTY-FUCKING-TWO. Part of me was mortified while part of me though "Hmmm...boy toy".

When I dropped a plate and a meal had to be recooked - he did it without comment. Normally I would have been abused.

When I ordered a to-go at close for me and Jeff, he asked if it was for me. I admitted it was and he VERY nicely remarked that we were supposed to ring them in 30 minutes before close. His fellow cooks stopped dead in their tracks and stared. One commented, "Damn...Chris, if that had been me you would have been harder on me!"

I smiled at him and said "You can be harder on me".

His face was priceless. He got the innuendo in one beat and he said "Dude...I'm 22 - you can't say things like that to me!!!"

He didn't mean it as in "it was innappropriate" - he meant it as in he could be easily 'fired up'. You had to hear the delivery to get that.

Still, it was comical to realize I'm getting better at the flirting.

To sum it up, flirting for fun = good and Jeff = bad.

I have to pull back from him now. I have to let go. I have to let it hurt, let myself ache and accept that I'm worth more than this. I'm good to him, I am there for him, I am kind to him and he is willing to fuck me - sometimes tenderly - and then release me so he can invite other girls out to dinner and such.

Sorry, but shouldn't I be the one getting the dinner invites? Not that it would be smart, but still ---

I know it will hurt. I know I will cry again. I know another piece of my heart is breaking. But I also know it's time.

The Talk

Work sucked last night. When I arrived at 5 I was immediately accosted by a host and manager apologizing profusely. A large party of 50 had come in 2 hours later than the time they'd reserved and was taking up my section. It was 2 hours before I could be sat a table and when I should have made at least $80, I actually made only $45. I was furious.

Towards the end of the night Jeff text messaged me asking me to come by to talk, he was feeling down. He specified "no sex" which made me roll my eyes, but I got the sense that he needed to just talk and I went.

We sat on the couch and just talked. He's "cycling down" as he calls it. His break-up with Jill is weighing on him, his job is frustrating him and he's just feeling low. We talked for awhile and I have no idea if it helped or not, but I tried. I was worried about his drinking. I watched him down an entire 6 pack of beer in the first 45 minutes I was there and he'd had two before I arrived. When I left he was not sober. I mentioned my concerns about his drinking to him.

I tried to be sympathetic. I really did. But I have to admit that inside I wanted to scream "You fucked everything up!!!"

Knowing Jeff, I know he needs a partner to help focus him. No one will ever be able to entirely keep him on course, but it does help. This is possibly the worst I have ever seen him and I'm worrying that he's well on his way to a drinking problem. Jeff's not a big drinker - or at least he never has been - so it signals a deeper depression and loss of control to me.

The things he wants and needs in his life - he had. With me. Someone to stand beside him. Someone who understood him. Someone who still loved him despite how difficult it is to love him. Someone who would make him a focus and would be willing to make his dreams their dreams. Someone who was strong enough to stand up to him, but also somewhat submissive enough to let him take the lead (he's a control freak, so this is a delicate balance). Someone who could say "Hey, you own your ex this much money and we need to do this and this to handle it". Someone willing to work to help bridge the gaps in his commissions. Someone willing to center him.

Hell, it's more than that.

Someone willing to get up with him at 4 am when he can't sleep and just sit with him - as I did MANY nights, but who won't require the same of him.

Someone who will give him everything they have in every way but won't expect much back.

And all of this, this elusive and impossible to find thing - he had. With me.

So yes, I am angry that he fucked it up. It can't be undone, it can't be rewritten, it can't be fixed and part of me just wants to scream because he needs me and I need him and neither of us can fully break our ties but he had everything he needed and wanted in me.

I'm not the same girl I was with him. For starters, my expectations of him are far lower. But I also can't ever imagine turning over so much control to someone I can't trust. It's a moot point since 'getting back together' is not an option, but if it were then there would only be new challenges to face because as much as I could do - I can never make him the center of my life again. When the center of your life is ripped away, you crumble and I've been there and done that.

Still, I just want to smack him in the forehead and yell "Stupid!!!"

Life with Jeff was never easy. I didn't like his ex-wife but I understood the importance of his kids and of his financial obligations. I may have disagreed on amounts (and still do) but both Jeff and his ex-wife thought I was just being greedy when my point really was "Hey! You earn X amount of money and owe her X amount of money and unless you have a big commission you can not afford X amount of money so this doesn't work!" No one listened and now he is far behind on paying her. It was never about not paying her. I may have disliked her, but I respected her as his ex and as the mother of his kids.

His kids were issue #2. Not the easiest children. Jeff has a short attention span and isn't the type of dad who finds joy in doing things a kid likes to do. I worked hard to come up with activities to do as a group that kept everyone happy. I planned zoo trips, built forts, grocery shopped to ensure everyone had healthy meals and weren't living on Happy Meals. I did arts and crafts, I tried to plan weekends that did not involve Jeff being on the computer playing poker while the kids roamed the neighborhood or played 27 hours of video games. When his oldest son confessed a tendency to "sneak out" of his mom's house in the middle of the night I began to listen for him at night and would get up and watch him (waking Jeff was impossible). I had many, many conversations with this child at 2 am when I would find him wandering the house. I was not willing to ignore it and let the child watch innapropriate tv shows and I wasn't comfortable knowing we lived on the edge of the Everglades swamp and his wandering outside meant snakes and gators. I busted my ass to make the weekends good for everyone and was usually rewarded with rudeness and the ex-wife bitching about anything from my "instant" mashed potatos to my telling her kids that they could or could not swim (sorry, but if I am supervising them, I should have a say so and if Jeff's occupied and the kids want to swim then I should be able to say "Sure, I can watch you" or "Sorry, I'm doing something now" or even "it's too COLD to swim and you have an earache" without having to deal with the bitchiness)

Fidelity was issue #3. Jeff is not capable of it. I was watchful because I knew this and busted his attempts several times before the end.

It could have been easy. All I ever asked of Jeff was to love me, respect me and be faithful. I didn't expect him to do anything beyond that. I couldn't possibly have made his life any easier.

I can not for one second believe that Jeff is 'better off' without me and now I feel like I am seeing the proof.

But I can't make him love me. Actually I can't make him love anyone. Jeff's only capable of appreciating what works for him and while he can fake love, he doesn't actually feel it.

But I still love him. And if there was a way, I'd do whatever I could to make everyone happy - the ex, the kids, Jeff, my family, Taylor - everyone. Me included ideally.

But I am not magic. I can't make this a reality. I can't change what happened. I can't fix a mess that I did not make. I can't bring this man back into my life this way with my friends, family and daughter opposing it. I can't defend him to them and he's not a 'big' enough man to do it himself.

All I can do is feel angry that what I still believe was a good thing for us all was destroyed beyond repair and occasionally I can sit with Jeff and watch him try to keep himself together all the while wishing I could be the person to help him put it back together and knowing I can't be.

But here's what hurts...the situation is unique. Jeff is hardly even human and requires a partner who understands him and is strong enough to work to overcome it. I was so deeply in love with him that I can't even imagine ever being with someone else and I was happy to be that partner. I did understand him and I did have the strength to fight. The odds of him finding another person willing to stand beside him the way I did and have are almost impossible. Even after what he did to me, I've been there for him at every turn.

Part of me wonders why he can't see that. Part of me realizes it doesn't matter if he did.

He lost me. It was a greater loss to him than to me. I offered him everything. I was good to him. He gave me nothing and was only concerned with himself.

I can find another person to be there for me even if I don't feel that same intensity and love I have for him.

He's never going to find another person who understands, accepts and still stands beside him.

And he'll continue to slide downhill...while I watch and mourn.

Ohhhhh....Ouch

And here it is. The first waves of pain.

With only a few hours before work tonight, I took Taylor to the beach. Innocent enough...an hour or two in the sun. A book.

I saw them after about 20 minutes had passed. They stood on the sand watching kids romp in the surf. Shoulder to shoulder. Hand in hand. Casual, easy touches of a couple together for the long haul.

Tears just came.

I miss that so much in my life. I miss that person. The inside jokes, the feel of them against you as you sleep, the comforting touch, the casual embrace.

I thought my heart had already been broken, but some remaining fragment crumbled so loudly that I heard it *snap* and was sure the people around me could hear it as well.

Taylor was romping in the surf and I was alone so no one could see the tears, but still - I hurt all over again.

I hurt because I need someone so much in my life to feel that ease with. That partner. I hurt because of how alone I feel. I hurt because I know and have always known that it was supposed to be Jeff and it can't ever be.

Let me preface this by saying that I can never be with Jeff again. Ever. He lost me. I may still love him, I may try to be there for him - but he's lost me.

What hurts is that I still believe we are/were meant to be together.

I can't help thinking his life was better too when we were together. He seemed happy. I took care of him - professionally I was always there to help, personally I was always there to help, emotionally, sexually - in every way.

Sure, we had struggles but we faced them together whereas now it seems like he just continuously struggles. Sure we had difficulties, but when we faced them together it just worked.

He's always been able to talk to me. He's enjoyed me in conversations, in bed, in casual around-the-house fun and we did have a deeper connection. So why is it that he is/was so blind to it? If he had to name one person (not a sibling) who has been there for him, loved him, accepted him, supported him, cherished him, helped him and made him smile then it would have to be me. No one else has been a constant there. No one else reached him. No one else stood by him.

Why on earth do I sit here feeling empty when it should be him that misses it?

Let's imagine he realized it. Let's imagine he finally figured it all out. Would it matter?

No.

Because the past can be forgiven, but never forgotten. I could never trust him entirely. I could never bring him back into my family. I could never put him and my daughter together. I could never overcome what happened.

Not entirely true...the truth is that he'd basically have to work to move heaven and earth to win back my family and friends. He'd have to be sorry, he'd have to face them, he'd have to beg for another chance, he'd have to prove himself - and that's not who Jeff is.

But if the shoe were on the other foot - I would do it. Because I have always held "love" in high value. I've always believed it could move mountains. I'd prostrate myself to his every aquaintance to justify the reasons why I had been so stupid and deserved another chance.

But that's me. That's not him.

What hurts is that my feelings for him ran deeper than anything I've ever imagined. Deeper than anything I've seen.

Kayla asked me last night how I could be free and I had only one answer. He'd have to be gone.

Not gone from the city or state. Gone from the planet. He'd have to cease existing. Because if he was out there, somewhere, I would still always feel him on this planet. I'd feel him.

I'd seek him. Maybe not actively, but my heart would never stop searching like a beacon sending out signals in hopes of an answer.

Yet, I'd still fight his being gone. As much as I have wished him harm, if someone tried to harm him I would fight to the death to protect him. I would still fight for him.

I'm no more free now than I was when I was under his roof. I still somehow belong to him.

I've been reading The Stand for the past 4 months. I have precious little time to read, so it's taking an eternity. Once I would have finished it in days. In The Stand, Nadine is a woman who belongs to the evil Flagg. She's never met him but she somehow knows she belongs to him. She is not evil herself, but the certainty of her enslavement is as real as if she'd been born marked to be his.

I understand her. Somewhere on me or in me, I am marked to belong to Jeff.

I wish it washed away. I know I can never be complete now.

And yes, the hurting is starting.

Connections

Whoa...

Can you be "hung over" from sipping a soda on a patio for 4 hours with a friend? If so, I swear that I am. I woke with a headache and fuzzy feeling.

I'm a tad sorry I didn't join 'the gang' after work last night. It would have been fun to continue my flirtation with John a bit more, but ultimately I had a great time just talking with Kayla even more.

Kayla and I really connected last night and our conversation was long and deep and honest and I think we both left feeling like it had been something special. She may be 15 years my junior, but Kayla is pretty sharp for her age and I'd hang out with her again anytime.

My connection with John is more a silly thing. I have to clarify it a bit just to be clear.

John is the only one there that's in my age group. He's neither attractive or unattractive but average looking. He's nice, a bit of a pain from time to time. He's an older man living like he was a 20-something year old kid. He's not even remotely on the spectrum for what attracts me to a guy.

But I've had fun flirting a little with him and seeing his reactions. One minute he'll be obnoxious and then I will flirt and a few minutes later he's teasing me and playing. He responds. I can see that my arrows hit their mark with him.

Had I gone last night, I imagine he would have had too much to drink and the flirting would have escalated.

I'm not worried about tangling with a co-worker this way because it's not as if either of us has feelings for the other beyond just getting along. I strongly suspect that in extreme circumstances if we had spent a night of heavy petting we'd both show up at work as if it had never happened and that's just fine.

For me, it really is nothing more than enjoying the games, the banter and the fun of flirting. I get the sense that it's the same for him.

Still, it's pretty funny to realize that I inadvertantly scored last night because he is bound to be confused that I was a 'no show'.

Talking with Kayla about Jeff was amazing. She just got it. There were times I would be talking and my own emotions would well up and her eyes would fill with tears. She was in the moment with me. She also holds no punches and won't hesitate to tell me I'm being selfish by even thinking about him.

I feel no real desire to communicate with Jeff today. The time away from him always brings me clarity and I feel clear now. It's when I see him or talk to him that he skirts my defenses and makes me feel like a drug addict chasing a high. After I see him, I long to see him again. When I manage to get away from him briefly I begin to miss him less. For example, right now I don't know if or when I will see him again and I don't really care.

But if he were to call, I'd go. I'd spend the next few days pining.

So my flirtation with John actually serves to distract me...

My friend Todd would call it a "love removal machine".

I just hope it works.

Deep

Work was somewhat fun...

There's this co-worker (John), I mentioned before, my flirtatious one. It's subtle. VERY subtle. But it's there and I am sure we both feel it.

I'm pretty sure there's a hook-up in our future.

Tonight he invited me out with 'the gang' - a big step for him. I was excited and raring to go. When I got off, I sat to chat with another co-worker (Kayla) and my night took a turn.

Kayla is 19 and I've always liked her. We started talking innocently enough and before I knew it - 5 hours had passed. We sat on the restaurant patio and talked for 5 HOURS. When I spoke of Jeff, there were times that her eyes filled with tears. Kayla understood...whether from experience or empathy - she understood it.

I never made it to my 'date' which I imagine will puzzle John even more. When he asks me, I will give him the same answer he once gave me. Only better. I will step close to him, look him in the eye and smile just a little and say, "Because I knew what would happen if I went..." and then one final look before I walk away with a smile.

I've missed flirting.

The good thing is - no Jeff tonight. I did chat in IMs with him today. It was easy to talk to Kayla about it all and know she really did understand me. I'm home now and I don't feel that same 'pull' to Jeff.

Distance makes it easy. If I don't see or speak to him, I am safe. But when I see him - I lose control.

Because I still love him.

Even while I contemplate a mock-seduction of John, in my head I know I remain emotionally unavailable to any other man.

I gave my heart away. I never got it back and it's been long destroyed. Still - no one can ever inspire the intensity I felt for Jeff and anything less will never do.

Talking to Kayla was fun though - I really like her. :)

WTF???

WTF??? I know that's the question on your minds, right?

Here it is then...

Of course I am still in love with Jeff. Has there ever really been anyone except for me who thought otherwise? Why I continue to feel so much for someone who hurt me so badly is really a rotten thing, but it's there. It's impossible to answer 'why' on this one. I couldn't have told you why from the first moment I fell. Yes, he's not the man I believed him to be. But he still is someone I have so much fun talking to - Even when we lived together our conversations were always full of engaging intensity. He makes me laugh, he makes me think, he makes me groan but it's never dull.

And yes, I also know that I need to let go somehow and move on. I can never be with him again. I know it. He knows it. I know that he's not sitting around wishing he could be with me and that my feelings are very one-sided, but somehow I am just still full of so much lingering feeling for him. I wish I wasn't.

It is a different feeling. Maybe there's a safety in knowing I can't be with him for us both.

My sister found out I'd seen him and chewed my ass out seven different ways yesterday. A co-worker also blasted me but then she said something really insightful to me.

She was a battered wife. She said that emotional abuse is just as hurtful and in her opinion I was emotionally abused. She said "I can't beat you up about this, you'll do that on your own - I can't make you stay away from him because you will go to him when you want no matter what anyone says or does but I can tell you this: He hurt you before without remorse and he will do it again. At some point you will decide in your heart that you have had enough and you will stop going to him for a moment knowing that the price you pay later is more than you can bear. Until you reach that point in your heart, you're trapped by your own feelings."

She's right. I've felt like a crack-addict or something. I've lied to friends and family to get to see him. I've snuck around like a thief. I am not proud. If anything, I am disturbed by how easily he can get me under his thumb.

I did see him last night after all. I went over after work and when I arrived he was sipping merlot and watching basketball. We sat on the couch together and talked and watched the game. It was fun and it was, in it's own way, awkward as if we were new lovers. Occasionally we'd touch with the appearance if accidentally. A leg might bump and we'd leave it in place. He'd had a few glasses of wine, which may account for the night, but he was as involved in the flirtation as I was.

When the game ended, it was more awkward. It was the point I should have said goodnight and we both seemed unsure of what to do next. Under some 'innocent' gesture that I can't recall, we ended up hugging and he began to rub my back which kept me in place. A minute later we were kissing.

The kissing was better. More like the old kisses that used to melt me. It was a full-on make-out session and we began to move, while still kissing, towards the bedroom.

The rest is obvious.

It might have been the wine but it seemed somewhat 'more' to me last night. It felt like there was less of a casual interlude and more of a connection. There was more kissing, a slower movement, a deeper clutch.

When I left, I knew my heart had fallen just a bit more. I'm sure his closed up the moment I left the sheets.

At one point he asked if I would be staying the night. I pointed out that I couldn't and he said it was okay with him either way.

Sleeping beside him? Curling against him? Snuggled against his back like I did for 365 days of my life?

Oh, really...my heart would have shattered entirely. I would have lost my free will entirely and lay there in complete surrender and pain.

Again, I don't know when or if I will see him again.

So...wtf?

All of my life I have been this somewhat independent thinking person. I was the 'lead' in every relationship. With Jeff, I was able to be his entirely and I could never in a million years explain how deep and strong my love for him was. For the duration of our relationship I was always deeply in love. No other man existed. Nothing mattered but pleasing him - had he asked, I would gladly have given up sleeping and eating to wait on him hand and foot. I was beyond submissive with him...I was lost entirely. No one has ever been able to do that to me. It's a bit like training a dog to love only you and then abandoning it...I've been so lost in myself. Feeling moments of him again is dangerous, stupid and wrong but still something I crave as strongly as a drug addict.

I don't allow myself to wish that he would feel the same because god forbid that he did, it would create more problems.

Yes, I will hurt again. Hopefully less. But yes, I still love him. Even I hate myself for saying that, but I can only swear to you that you can't understand or judge without being in my very specific shoes. You have to know that if it was less to any degree I would never put myself through this - you have to know that if I could turn this off and run away I would.

Maybe the next time he hurts me it will be enough to send me away for good.

I don't know anything anymore. I'm still working towards my goals.

No one knows. No one ever will if I have my way. I see him in the late hours of night after work when my daughter is home with my stepfather and both are asleep.

God help me, I know it's wrong. I know it's setting myself up for another fall. I know he doesn't love me.

But if you only knew how much I wish things had turned out differently...if you only knew. There have been times that I would not have traded a second of being in his arms and feeling loved for all the money in the entire world. Times when I would have sacrificed a limb or an organ rather than not sleep beside him.

I'll keep this in perspective for what it is. I still love him, so I see him when I can. He doesn't love me, but will play around with me and be friendly, so he'll see me occasionally. There's nowhere for it to go. There's no future. This will end. Probably badly.

But for just this moment...

I know I'll be angry again. I've been so angry for so long. This tiny moment in time has removed that anger. It has felt so wonderful to not feel those ugly feelings. That may even be a part of it all for me.

I know I will cry again. There are times I think it could even be worth the tears.

The ultimate irony is that this is the man who hurt me so deeply and so badly that I lost the ability to let any man close to me again. I've actually slapped away the hands of men at work who reach out to adjust my collar or to touch my arm. I've literally reacted reflexively and slapped their hand away.

And this is the man I let get the closest to me.

Perhaps it's time to shave my head, get a few new tattoos and be carted forcefully away to a rehab program.

Better?

I'm okay today. As I imagined, Jeff made it a point not to contact me yesterday but I did send him a quick IM late at night and we chatted briefly.

The distance did me a little good. I feel stronger today. More focused on myself and what I need to do. I won't see him again tonight and that's probably a very good thing. I don't know yet if I will see him tomorrow night or not. I know I am supposed to see him briefly...but I suspect he'll duck out of it.

Of Psychos and Seers

I am fascinated with the human psyche.

I always have been.

Everyone has a special talent. Mine is to see people. To understand them. I've commented before on how well I read tarot cards but there are moments I ask if there is no magic to it and I am just that capable of reading the person over the cards. Even a stranger - I can start to sum them up in a few short breaths. I don't know how. I could never explain how. I just know that I have always been able to see into people I meet.

When I was a kid, I used to wish I could step inside of someone else to see how they thought, lived, breathed and perceived things.

With what appears to be a dramatic change of subject - (but isn't) - if you asked me which TV show character I would be most likely to fall in love with I would tell you Dr. Gregory House from the hit show House.

Have you seen it? He's a ruthless, selfish, emotionless, cold-hearted bastard.

Hmm. Something's clicking here for me.

I realize I am drawn to men who are unreachable because I haven't been able to figure out how they work. I think they represent the one 'person' I haven't been able to undertand fully and I am driven to know them. To learn them. To reach them.

The scenes on House where he appears momentarily vulnerable or responsive to a woman are erotic to me. The tension, the thrill of contact with the distant soul - it lights up my nerves.

Breaking love down to bare science, it stands to reason that I tend to be repeatedly drawn to men who are difficult to reach, hard to get close to and impossible to love easily.

Hence Jeff.

The reason for my lingering self-enslavement to Jeff I believe stems from failure. I thought that I had reached him. I believed that I had connected. To feel as though I had accomplished that and to be relishing and cherishing the relationship I felt I had hard won and then have him tell me it was all bullshit is almost impossible to swallow. It crushes me. I'm not saying it wasn't real love - in my way it was - but I am saying that I felt like I had succeeded at connecting with the elusive creature I had spent my life in search of only to have it turn on me and maul me.

Rather than run or give up, I imagine I am drawn to the idea of having another path to connecting. If there's one thing I am not, it's a quitter. I am a fighter through and through and if you put obstacles in front of me, I spend my time searching for paths around them.

I need to be able to find a connection with Jeff again on some level. I know that I can not be with him in a relationship. It's like loving the scorpion - you know you will one day get that fatal sting. But I still find myself needing to find a solid connection on any level.

I would go further and suggest this: Jeff's psychopathic/sociopathic nature and my 'seer' nature are naturally drawn together. For all of his belief that he doesn't need or want any sort of connection he is still drawn to me because it fascinates him that I can see into him just as much as it fascinates me. It's as though he is a foreign creature and has found a translator. Like a ghost who finds the person that sees them. He doesn't always like it, and in fact it often irritates or scares him because he wants to be seen and doesn't want to be seen all at the same time. He doesn't want me figuring him out, but he remains connected to someone he knows 'gets' him because he can drop pretenses with me when it suits him and open up on a new level for him.

But he'll always fight me. He'll open the door, welcome me in, enjoy me for a time and then when I strike the nerve or when I see too much, he'll throw me out, brutally try to drive me away in ways that should keep me from ever coming back and essentially hurt me again and again.

Likewise, I am drawn to that connection. I'll walk into his open door, enjoy him for a time and then suffer when I get close enough to touch something new and he strikes out at me.

Comfort levels are a challenge for Jeff. Each time he and I reach one that's new to him he'll push me back. It's the old two steps forward, three steps back theory. I make a new path, get a little closer to the real Jeff and he throws me back. I can retrace the path and try again, I can start a new path and get back to where I was and possibly manage an additional step forward but I have to be prepared to know he'll only throw me back again.

It hurts less to understand him than it does to realize how drawn I am to the quest. Even in fiction, I have always been most responsive to this scenario. The unreachable man who somehow lets a woman in and then battles it. It is the epitome of romance to me.

Which means I am as doomed to suffer as he is. Because I am chasing that which is guaranteed to hurt again and again.

A man who let me in willingly or opened up entirely would never manage to hold my interest. That would be the man who would be easy to love and would be good to me.

I am as damaged as he is.

The irony is that it makes he and I the soul mates I once thought we were. The tragedy is that it's an impossible relationship on any level.

As I promised, there has been no communication with Jeff today. Yesterday my first email from him was early.

He won't contact me today because he's in holding pattern. If I were to contact him, he might respond but his response would be distant. He hasn't pushed away yet but he's in neutral gear for the moment. He has no use or need for me today. He knows I won't be seeing him today. To contact me would be weak. It would show a desire to communicate that he doesn't want to have.

He probably won't contact me tomorrow either. That one's iffy. He may want to retain his hold on me and might reach out for some non-essential but random communication that wouldn't be warm but would be just enough to keep me in the game. Friday he is supposed to return something to me. That's an obligation on his end. He doesn't like obligations. Friday could go either way. He may reach out to me to fulfill a different need - sex, entertainment or distraction but he'll also want to avoid me because seeing me would mean repaying me.

It will come down to which need is greater.

If he sees further use for me beyond this favor, he'll reach out. Establishing that trust of repaying me will mean he'll think I'll trust him more for a larger favor next time.

It's all so calculated and complicated.

Still, I bet I'm right on this one.

Second Time Around

As agreed, I went by Jeff's house again after work last night. I gave him the truck payment he asked me to bring him and I picked up the check that had been left for me by one of my employees.

Work was dead slow and I left a bit early. I text messaged Jeff and offered to bring him dinner from the restaurant and he agreed. When I got there, we ate together and chatted.

We sat on the couch once more and talked again over glasses of merlot.

But it was different this time.

I know that I am still hopelessly in love with him - and I feel like I correctly say hopelessly since no amount of abuse has managed to kill that in me. Still, I realized from our conversation that he's still a really dangerous person. He has plans and schemes and drama that truthfully were interesting at first in a hypothetical sense but then became a bit of an emotional turnoff. If half of what he theorized to me and fantasized about is true then someday I stand to make a great fortune writing a book about him and making the talk-show circuit.

I suppose one thing that struck me was how freely he shared it all with me. Either he's making it all up or he's managed to overcome his own lack of trust in me in relatively short time.

Or he believes he has that much control over me.

It began to get late and I prepared to go. I got the sense that there was something he was waiting for and it revealed itself when he asked for a backrub. I obliged partially because I owed him for a phenomenal backrub he'd given me, partially because I wanted to feel him and partially because I knew he was really asking for sex and I'm still enjoying the sensation of sex with someone I feel things for after a long celibate period.

I rubbed his back until my hands cramped and when I was done he rubbed my wrists and began to rub my lower back. Within no time we were having sex. This time it felt like it used to...it wasn't awkward but rather familiar.

He talked a little about Jill and I was really surprised. Again, if what he says is true than she's not the innocent I thought she was.

I drove home without feeling confused about my feelings this time. I enjoyed the sex, I enjoyed talking to him but I was put off emotionally by the realization that he is still heading down a dark path. Continuing on this way will guarantee him a few news headlines someday. He seemed to be enjoying sharing his dark side with me and while I was glad he felt he could talk to me it was somewhat of a wake-up slap to me as well.

When I fell in love with Jeff the first time things were different. I saw him as this troubled man struggling with himself and hoping to find happiness and acceptance. He was vulnerable and it touched me. It made me want to help him, to save him, to cherish him and make him feel as special as I thought he was.

The man I came to know and the man I spent time with last night was a man who was proud of his dark side to the point of bragging. He wasn't showing vulnerability or emotions.

Now again, I know Jeff. To some extent I wonder how much of this was a wall. How much was him trying to show me he's still a bad man to ensure I can't love him? How much was real?

With him, you never really know for sure. He either has two sides or he's a great faker. I often wonder if schizophrenia shouldn't be added to his list.

I suppose I'm somewhat relieved. It put things into perspective a bit for me. It boiled it all down to what it was....sex. Sure, I may have lingering emotions I am clinging to and searching for the man I loved so much once, but ultimately he enjoyed himself by being a man that I could never let my own guard down with.

I'm not saying I won't spend time with him again or that the sex is over, although I can't say I will spend time with him or have sex with him again - but ultimately I did realize he remains the unloveable man.

Yesterday he made a point of emailing me - maintaining that contact we'd shared and it was warm and nice. I'm ready to bet that I will not hear from him at all today. He has to balance it out and withdraw now. I won't be contacting him either. I'm content with keeping the past two days in perspective.

The contact did put me off my sense of longing for a companion and for someone to love. That's probably somewhat dangerous since it's clear to me that as long as Jeff is in my life in any form I can not open myself up to anyone new. On the other hand, it soothed an ache I felt and it's nice to have that too.

Jeff would surprise me if he contacted me today. It would show a connection. He already knows I am busy and won't see him tonight, he has what he needed from me and his MO would be that he should be done with me for the moment.

Honestly, I would be confused if he did contact me.

I realize he still has a lot of control over me. I still have this desire to please him. He could easily keep me on a leash if he chose to, but I'm not sure he wants to do that. When you leash a creature you become responsible for maintaining it and that may be more effort than he's wanting to put forth. It's good for me if he chooses not to because I can maintain my senses slightly better and not give up total control to him.

I know I'm playing with fire. It's sad to realize how much I still do love him in spite of himself. I do also know I could never be with him again in a relationship but it doesn't do much to break his hold on me.

Compartments

You don't really want details on last night, do you?

I didn't think so. Especially since I know most of you are just groaning at my weakness.

It wasn't as sordid as it sounded. I dropped something off to him, we talked for hours about work and life and then I got a great back rub and...well, and more.

It was a bit awkward, we both agreed. There was no comfort level.

"You feel bigger," I told him (he's gained weight)

"You feel smaller," he told me (I've lost weight)

"I might hate you again tomorrow. I always seem to feel angry with you when this happens. I'll try not to, but I might."

"I know".

So, I'm trying hard to keep myself in perspective. I did learn things after all though. Not all of them were good things.

I learned that I am still in love with him. As horrible as he's been and with every reason to hate him, I was completely engaged in the conversation and enjoyed being able to talk.

I know he has no feelings where I am concerned. That's ok. Well, not 'ok' but it is what it is.

I tried hard not to think about what happened as I drove home. I turned the radio off. I tried to make to-do lists in my head. I got home and fell asleep.

I continue to work hard this morning to put it out of my head and I am keeping my head above water. If I stop to think about it, I might lose the small grip I have on the situation.

I don't understand how I can still care for him but it's there. Seeing him, hearing his voice, laughing with him - it all felt so nice.

And whoa, there's that thinking I promised not to do.

A commenter called me a slut and stupid last night and it was good for a laugh. A slut? Damn, I wish. Last night broke my longest ever celibate streak. I had sex with someone I was deeply in love with and still care for - even though I knew it was meaningless to him. I'm fairly certain that doesn't make me a slut. Stupid? That one's right. I'd managed to put him out of my head and heart for the most part only to realize he never really was out of my head or heart. He was always there, just locked up.

It's not as if we're reconciling. That's not happening. My family would kill us both. Brad would kick my ass - and probably his too. I'm not brave enough to try that again. So while it was meaningless sex for him, ultimately it couldn't be that much different for me since I knew I couldn't have anything more than that anyway. Even if he wanted, I could not go back. He doesn't want me back but at least in the end, it's my choice not to be there as well.

I don't expect this to be a regular occurence. I don't even know that it will ever happen again.

But for the moment, I don't regret it yet.

I realized that where talking to men generally doesn't interest me, I was easily engaged in my long casual conversation with him. That answers some questions for me. It doesn't solve anything or relieve anything, but I know where my heart is now.

Too bad it's in a place it doesn't belong.

ka-boom...

I know exactly where I should not be going and what I should not be doing.

Yet, here I go.

Maybe I'm the self-destructive one.

I've come so far...

All I have to do is not go, right?

But here I go just the same.

Fill this Space

I'm still frustrated. I realized I was really enjoying what amounted to harmless flirting and it was entertaining me in a way I had missed. I'm frustrated because I don't really have another outlet for it.

I thought a lot about what it is I 'need' in my life right now. I know I tend to think I need someone to love, but I think that what I really need is a social life complete with people I can enjoy that sort of flirtation with. Not so much dating, just a social circle where I can indulge a little.

It's not even really about sex. I've been celibate for my longest stretch ever at this point and I'm not sure I remember what sex without batteries is.

My other realization was that every relationship I had stemmed from that same sort of flirtation and I am only comfortable flirting with men I work with. (How awful is that?) I need that daily interaction to reach a comfort level to be able to play.

I feel just full of frustration. When I can flirt I feel beautiful and sexy and when I can't, I feel invisible and frumpy.

...and I hate feeling invisible and frumpy.

The Night Sucked

Well, I'm discouraged. My night sucked...

I apparently miscounted change and ended up losing money. Which means I came up $43 short. It just pisses me off. I'll have to pick up a shift to cover it. What really annoys me is that I know exactly which table it was that did it and remember them counting their change puzzled and I asked if the change was right. They knew they'd gotten me and they just took it. Bastards.

There's a guy at work I've been practicing my flirting on. Partially because he's my age and 'safe' and partially because it's fun to confuse him. I've been subtle. A look here. A comment or a joke there. I've seen him bewildered by it and enjoyed the exercise. Tonight he let me know he'd gotten the message. He commented that he had heard I went out with the "motley crew" the other night. He was actually supposed to be there and was a no show. I teased him back, "Is that why you didn't show?" and he answered me dead seriously "No, but I knew what would have happened".

Whoa...

Since I wasn't actually planning to screw him, that shut me up. Nicely done.

He also dropped a more subtle hint. He works at two different places that Brad services and he knows Brad. He once commented that Brad and I shouldn't divorce because we were both so nice. He also seems to enjoy referring to Brad as "my boyfriend". He made the boyfriend comment tonight and I jumped down his throat for it and told him I didn't have a boyfriend and I didn't really need him reminding me of the fact with his little witty remarks. I think the message he was trying to convey was that he has a healthy fear/respect for Brad and doesn't want to mess with me. Fair enough.

So, that game's done for me. Too bad, I was enjoying learning to flirt again and he was the only viable candidate.

Everyone else is too young or involved or gross, so I'm out of flirty practice partners.

So, basically I end my night annoyed at best.

Back to the Beach

....and now, back to work!

The Lunar Eclipse Incident

My day off yesterday was a busy and eventful one. I packed Taylor's old room at the old house and got it pretty much all done. Now I can move on the the next room. Taylor was at a birthday party for a friend and when I picked her back up we headed to the beach to try to watch the lunar eclipse.

It was too cloudy to be amazing, but we had ice cream and some fun and it was relaxing. We stayed until dark and I just relaxed on the sand while she played.

A couple of college boys near me got obnoxious and I straightened them right out. They got drunk and were being rude and began to expose themselves to me and dare each other to pee on the beach. Mine wasn't the only child around, but other people seemed afraid to deal with it.

Not me.

I sent Taylor to the showers to wash off the sand and I stomped up to them. Hands on my hips I was a foot shorter than the 3 of them and took my 'Mean Mom" tone to full force. I told them this was rude and unacceptable. They all hung their heads and looked meek and apologized but when I walked away again, they got rude and made a comment to me about being a bitch or something. I whipped out my cell phone and said "I'm done, you can talk to the police about exposing yourself to children".

They weren't sure what to do. They were obviously scared but didn't want to run either. They watched me for a bit, then I walked to the street with Taylor. They showed up a minute later and watched me again. Then they crossed the street into Beach Place - a huge complex of bars, restaurants and shops - and watched me again from the steps. Then they disappeared as the cops arrived.

I told the police what happened and gave descriptions. Then I headed out to leave through Beach Place (where I had parked) and as I left, I spotted the trio of troublemakers. I doubled back, grabbed the cop and pointed them out.

As we left, we saw the three being dragged outside for a chat.

I had another email from Jeff last night. He's depressed and stressed.

On the other hand - I feel great. I have an absolute clarity on who and what I am and I'm proud of myself. I'm strong and I'm a fighter and I'm a survivor. I make my own rules and I go after what I want. I've worked with walking pneumonia, driven across 4 states alone and changed my life. The next time I let anyone into my life it will be as a luxury because I have learned to count on myself.

And that's exactly how I want it.