I’m apparently a compassionate person because I should have said Hello, goodbye, nice meeting you, have a nice life, hope it all works out for you to Big M when I finally met him, but I didn’t. Instead I let him hang with me for two weeks in the Redondo Beach area (that’s where he is from). I felt guilty that I would be staying in nice places while he would be living in his Van, at Von’s parking lot. I do like him but he drives me nuts. Being thrown together with anyone, especially strangers 24/7 is extremely stressful. We went from online pen pals to living together. Now that would be a great Reality Show. What should we call it?
I figure, I’m on a 6 month solo road trip so I can chalk it up to experiences. He’s lived an exciting life as a Stuntman/Actor/Cowboy/Moto dude. Apparently I’m drawn to this type, bad boy. He’s also a pot head. I like pot on occasion but he takes a hit 5-6 times/day. He says it helps him relax and de-stresses him. He’s comfortably numb. It kind of turns me off. He doesn’t smoke cigarettes, take prescription pills, not much of a drinker and doesn’t do any other hard-core drugs, thank God. So I can’t complain about that. FYI: marijuana isn’t the gate way drug; alcohol, cigarettes and prescription drugs are. Let’s get that straight.
As Carrie from Sex & The City said about Big: “She’s addicted to the pain.” I think that sums up my life with men perfectly. I’m attracted to bad boys because they live life on the edge with passion and drama which makes me feel alive. Yep I admit it. I love the drama, the thrill, and the fantasy. I’m not alone here, we love the wild ones but discard the nice ones.
The Pro’s about Big M: He is very affectionate, always holding my hand and kissing me. The way he looks at me with those steel-blue eyes makes my heart skip a beat. He has a wonderful body, his abs are to die for, and he has a great smile. Plus even though he had that horrible accident with his penis, he actually is a great lover, who makes me very wet. I come every time.
I’m torn. We like each other a lot, but his behavior is driving a wedge between us. He wants to get himself out of this financial chaos he has created but he won’t do what it takes to do it. He says if he can only get one more commercial, he would get himself out of the deep hole. He should do an ice-cream commercial since that is his drug of choice. He’s moving to Montana in the Spring to work as a wrangler at a dude ranch for $1200/month. At least he will have a roof over his head and three square meals per day. It’s almost like jail but he has a bit more freedom.
We stay at the Marriott in Torrance, CA for the last two nights before I head back to Oregon. I actually call 15 hotels in the area and everything is full. Finally I find the Marriott. Oy! That’s stressful. Big M needs to go to his van and organize it since it’s a mess. I stay behind, because he needs to do this on his own. He takes his motorcycle. I hang out at the bar and by the pool. It’s alone time, aah.
I get a Cosmo martini but when the bartender gives it to me in a plastic cup it’s only 1/3 cup full. I stare at it and ponder; boy it looks awful tiny. I finally ask her what’s up with this $12 drink and she looks at me like I have two heads. She then snaps it up and puts in their martini glass and it fills right up. She says in a mocking tone: “See?” I just look at her. Wow. Deception.
She’s an A Hole. I don’t leave her a tip and complain to the manager about her rude behavior. I hang out by the pool enjoying the afternoon sun. Big M has been gone close to 4 hours. I envision him tackling his van and organizing it. I’m glad things are finally looking up. I can leave without worrying about him. I get a text from him telling me he’s on his way.
He meets me and we kiss. He looks depressed. He tells me that he went to his van and sat there for over an hour but didn’t do a damn thing. He then went to the gym and worked out for almost 2 hours and stopped at a burger joint on his way back. His only discipline is working out. If he could just apply that logic to the rest of his life he would be successful.
I realized then and there he will never change. He doesn’t have the drive to fix his life. He wants other’s to do it for him. No matter what I do for him he won’t take charge of his life and fix it. I finally see the light. He’s beyond hope.
I get up and tell him that I can’t help him anymore. I’m done. He’s dejected. We fight, well I yell and he just stares at me. We head up to the room on the 17th floor. He gathers his things and leaves. I don’t want him to go, I’m just venting. I beg him not to leave. I can’t bear that he will be in that van while I’m in this $200/night hotel room without him. He breaks my heart as he leaves with his guitar and backpack. How is he going to carry everything on his motorcycle? How?
He kisses me and walks out of my life.
I know it’s for the best, but I cry because I do care for him and he broke my heart. I cry for him, I cry for the loss of our friendship. I cry myself to sleep.