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HotChild2012 – Dating or Whatever We Call It

Dating experiences with an edgy twist

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bipolar

How many more times? The breakup

Michael and I have been together for almost a year and living together for the last 5 months. He is my best friend and I love him but his mood swings are more than I can bear. Going off his medications does not help our relationship nor does it help his work. He’s spiraling out of control. I plead with him to go see his doctor but he refuses. He rather self medicate by drinking alcohol and smoking weed. He’s also smoking cigarettes again, something I detest.

I try to help but he pushes me away. Even when I try to talk to him calmly, he rolls his eyes, abruptly gets up and walks out of the room, slamming the door. It has reached a point where I realize no matter how much we love each other love isn’t enough to keep us together. Looking back at our relationship it has been rocky from the start.

We’ve had our share of fights. I know I’m not an angel and my insecurities in the past have caused a lot of grief but I’ve worked on it. I know now he would never cheat on me but I don’t know what is worse?  One who cheats with another or leaves emotionally?

I know he’s really been down since he has writer’s block so I tell him about a creative writing course at the local college, which could help him with his writing, something which he is passionate about. Oh my, it’s almost as though I insulted him.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he screams at me.

“Michael, I just thought”.

“You think I can’t write?” he says as he jumps up and comes towards me his eyes showing his fury.

“No! That’s not what I said! I said” but he cuts me off again.

His face is inches from mine. I can see his anger as he shouts obscenities at me, telling me to fuck off and mind my own business.

“Know what Michael? Fuck you! I’m done with this so called relationship. You’re a fucking limp dick!” I scream as I jump up. “Fuck you Fuck you Fuck you! Asshole!” I yell as I give him the middle finger.

I grab my jacket, cell phone, pocketbook and keys and run out jumping in my car. I peel out of the driveway. I don’t care if anyone hears me. I drive for a while too mad to go anywhere. My phone is ringing but I refuse to answer it. When I’m really mad I can’t talk, what’s the point? I drive for a few hours with the music blaring. Finally I see a Holiday Inn Express sign and pull in. I can’t go back to him, so I book a room for the night and turn off my phone.

Once inside my room, I strip and take a long hot shower trying to clear my head. The hot water feels good against my skin and I start to relax. The last couple of months I felt as though I was walking on eggshells with him and now this fight is the final blow. I can’t do this to myself anymore. I just can’t.

I dry off and get into bed but my mind starts to race. I love him, but I realize I love myself more. Finally, I drift off to sleep. When I awake it’s 9am. I stretch and get up. I turn on my cell and scan the messages. Fifteen voice mail messages and ten text messages, all from Michael. The first few messages he’s telling me to fuck off, but by the end he’s apologetic: Passive Aggressive.

I know I can’t be with him anymore. I can’t be with someone who is bi-polar. Finally with resolve I drive back to our home. As I pull into the driveway I feel a sudden sense of dread. I unlock the front door and walk in. Michael is sleeping on the couch, dozens of beer cans are scattered on the floor. I watch him sleep. He looks so peaceful. I’m afraid to wake him not knowing how he will react if he sees me.

As I turn, I hear him stir, but he doesn’t wake up. I tip toe to the bedroom, grabbing my suitcases from the closet and I start packing my belongings. Lost in thought I’m startled by a voice and jump.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I jumped down your throat” he says with pleading in his eyes.

I look at him warily. “I love you but I can’t do this anymore.” I say as I continue to pack.

“I know, I need help. I will do anything to keep you from leaving me”

“Michael. I think we need time apart. You’ve got to find a way to get better on your own. You’ve got to do this for yourself.”

“I know but please stay.”

“I need to move out. I’ll arrange for a mover to take my things.” I say with resolve avoiding his eyes.

“I’m sorry” he says as he looks at the floor.

“You know I love you, but I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t”. I say as I walk over to him and hug him.

“I know”. He says as his voice trails off.

We hold each other tight for a while before we let go and look at each other. My heart goes out to him. I just want to hold him forever, but I know he will relapse into his own world. It’s best that we go our separate ways.

I pick up my suitcases and walk to the door.

“I’m leaving town for a while to help my sister, Julia. I think its best if we don’t communicate. I hope you find your way Michael, I really do.” A smile escapes my lips.

“Take care”. I say as I walk out the door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sex with an Ex: Dating or Whatever We Call It

IMG_4736Michael and I are slowly making our way back into the comfort zone. It’s been a few weeks since we met at Stella’s after many months apart. We’ve been friendly with flirtatious moments, a kiss and a hug but nothing more. I wonder if we are just going to be friends. My body aches for his touch. I’m starting to fall for him again. It feels right this time. We are both in better places.

He calls me and asks me to dinner. I accept and he picks me up. Just like old times we click.  We have a great time. It’s almost midnight when we get back. He walks me to my door. This time he lingers as I open the door to my apartment.

“Would you like to come in?” I ask.

He smiles and nods.

“Dinner was delicious” I say as I take off my shoes and put them in the closet. As I’m bending down, he comes over and put his arms around me.

“Michael” I say laughing.

“God you smell good” he says as he holds me close and rocks me as he kisses my neck. As we rock back and forth, he puts his arm around me and unbuttons my blouse. His hand slides underneath my bra and cups my breasts. I moan.

“God you feel so good” I whisper.

Kissing my neck he unzips my jeans and slides them off. I step out of them. Slipping his hand into my mound my lips quiver. He fingers his way and slides his finger on my clit and gently rubs it back and forth. I let out a moan as I sway back and forth, putting my arms around him. As my body responds, he rubs harder. My clit is now pulsating.

“Michael, I missed you. Fuck me please!” I cry. He stops and turns me around. I pull off his shirt in a frenzy. He cups my breasts and suckles them. Kissing each one, pulling, tugging, and arousing them until they are hard mounds. Unzipping his jeans I yank them off him. I push him down on the floor and get on top of him.

“You make me crazy” I say breathlessly.  He smiles and we start kissing passionately. His cock is hard as I press my body against it. I kiss his neck, then his chest, inching ever so slowly down around his muscular abs. He lets out a moan as I touch his cock. I hold it in my hands and slowly open my mouth to engulf his powerful manhood. My tongue darts about, licking, sucking. I can hear him gasp.

He pulls me up and pushes me down onto the rug in front of the fireplace. Spreading my legs for him, he enters me, slowly at first as I guide him, then with each thrust he goes deeper and faster. Controlling, not letting himself come to fast. Giving me pleasure is his desire. Just a little bit longer…

The Ex and the Art of Forgiveness: Dating or Whatever We Call It

IMG_4916After breaking up with Michael, I avoid him at all costs in the tiny town we live. Not an easy task, but I find a way to do it. We don’t speak for months until one evening I receive a text from him asking to meet for a drink. Is he drinking and he misses me? WTF? I know better, I should delete it and not respond, but I text back.

We meet at our old hang out, Stella’s. I make sure I’m looking drop dead gorgeous in a mini, sleeveless v cut top and heels accentuating my long legs. He’s already at the bar, sitting nervously. When he sees me he smiles, his black hair cut short and his blue eyes sparkling in the light. God he looks good. I smile back. He gets up and gives me a warm hug.  Mmmm…He’s wearing Old Spice which I love. I breath him in…

We exchange pleasantries, chatting about nothing. “I hope you don’t mind but I ordered you a Riesling”. He says as he looks into my eyes.

“Thank you, you always knew what I liked.” I reply as I take a sip. Liked past tense but he still remembers… As the evening wears on we settle back into our comfortable selves. The nervousness is gone. We’re laughing and talking as though we never broke up. Its great to see him again. He hasn’t changed, his rugged good looks are still in tact.

He touches my hand and I look up.

“I miss you”he says quietly.

I look at him. “Is that why you texted me?”

“Yeah. I know I was a total ass to you. I was in a funk over the winter and I needed to be alone and be an island for a while. I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

So many things I want to say and not all good. I look at him and all I can say is “It’s okay. We both needed to be alone.”

All the pain and hurt seem to evaporate with those words: I’m sorry that I hurt you.

“What are you doing about your Bipolar?” I ask.

“I’m seeing a therapist on a weekly basis. She put me on the drug Lamictal, and it has really helped with my mood swings. I feel more even keeled.”

“What is it?”

“It’s used for epileptic seizures but also for mood swings for bipolar. For now I’m just on that but I might need to go on a cocktail of meds. We’ll see. I’m also working out everyday and writing. That’s the best part. I’m focused.”

“That’s great Michael, I’m really happy that you are getting help. I think that was the major reason why we fought.”

“I know. Self medicating on alcohol wasn’t good for me or for us. I’m always going to have this, but I wanted you to know that I’m trying to overcome it.”

I lean over and give him a hug. We hold each other. He feels good in my arms.

I give him a kiss on the cheek: “It’s going to be okay. You’re on the right track and you’re doing something pro-active. I respect you for that.”

“Thanks. I wanted you to know…” His voice trails off as he looks into my eyes.

His eyes are an intense blue green. I could swim in them. I look away.

“What time is it?” I ask

“It’s 11:05” He says.

“Wow we’ve been talking for over 3 hours? I have to go. Long day tomorrow Thank you for the drink.”

As we get up, I turn to him and say, “Its good to see you again Michael.”

He leans over and kisses me on the lips. He tastes good. His soft lips brushing against mine.

He smiles and says: “Good to see you too.”

 

 

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Reflections: Dating Or Whatever We Call It

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My lover who suffers from bipolar and holiday blues can’t deal with anyone’s drama so he ended our relationship. He’s going to be an island for a while. I told him I would not visit his island. We left it on good terms, but I still feel resentful to the way he ended it.  He does not know that though, my girlfriends on the other hand do, since I vent to them.

He was fantastic in November which I call Sweet November. Only one time was he a prick and he text me the next day apologizing for his behavior. I know he warned me about his holiday blues, but I was not prepared for the depth of his moodiness and withdrawal into his own world. He was a full blown dick in December except when he was with me and my horses. He was so gentle with them, it melted my heart. Why couldn’t he be that way with me?

I was willing to forgive him for being a prick because I knew somewhere deep inside there was a kind, fun soul. I was hoping that in January we could wipe the slate clean and start over. He withdrew even further after the New Year to a place I could not reach.

Apparently he could not forgive me for trashing his porch when I was irrationally drunk thinking that he was having sex with my friend. I had a full blown anxiety attack. In retrospect I should not have asked him if he wanted to fuck my girlfriend and he should  never have said yes. That was our downfall. Funny I could forgive his grizzly bear persona but he could not forgive mine.

Even though he was my lover/activity partner which meant no commitment I was jealous. I realized I liked him more than a friend and I do not play fair with other women in my sandbox. FWB’s do not work, it’s a lie. If we were in a committed relationship I would be secure knowing he wanted only me, but that was not to be.

I recently left New England and drove cross country to end an 11 year on and off again volatile relationship with Alex. My reasoning: I can’t go over to his house with this much distance between us.  He was passive aggressive with Bipolar tendencies and we fought constantly: Leo’s and Scorpio’s do not mix. We loved and hated each other, but the make up sex was great. Maybe that’s why we kept on going back.

I should never have become involved so quickly with Michael. I should have let myself heal before I became involved with another man. I told him the first day we met that we would be platonic friends. I caved that night when he looked deep into my soul with his blue eyes. I should have known. I should have run. Should of, would of, could of…

#CommunicationBreakdown: Dating Or Whatever We call it

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When communication breaks down, interpretation can go awry.

The world of dating is filled with mixed signals especially when it comes to what people say, do or not do. We end up reading between the lines and sometimes those lines are blurred. When it comes to texting our interpretations are based on insecurities. That’s why one has to put smiley faces at the end of the sentences so the other person understands what is being implied.

When I text and say; “I hope you have a great 2016 and I hope you find what and who you are looking for…” Does that mean I’m breaking up with the other person? What does the receiving party think? Could it simply mean; I hope you find happiness? Is there always a double meaning?

Since we now do a majority of communication via texting instead of using our voices, our rate of error to what the other person means jumps 200%. When I ask if I can pick up my map book and bandana does that mean I’m cutting ties with you?

I need my map book to understand the area so I don’t get lost. I need my bandana to keep me warm. That’s all, it’s not a sign we are breaking up. But when you then drop the items off in a bag on my door step without a note or a call, it’s a little unnerving. When I peek inside and I see that you included my toothbrush which I left at your house when I sleep over what do you think my reaction will be?

I didn’t ask for that toothbrush back. What are you trying to tell me? Are you breaking up with me? Giving a toothbrush back is a statement and not a good one. Negative connotations ring through one’s head.

It reminds me of the episodes on Sex & The City when Big drops off items that Carrie left at his apartment and when Berger breaks up with Carrie on a Post-It. What kind of communication is that?

Talking to girlfriends is our best defense. They always know the right words to say. My friend Alise who has the manic depressed boyfriend told me to text Michael the following;

“Thanks for dropping off my stuff. I noticed you also gave me back my toothbrush…Should I read anything into this?…Are we still good? Are you ok?”

I click send. An hour goes by and nothing. Finally I’m talking to my other girlfriend on the phone and Michael plays his turn on WordFeud, but no answer to my text. Hmmm… A few minutes later he texts back:

“Sorry  I just need some time on my own for a while to figure things out and get into a routine. I can’t deal with anyone else’s drama except for my own. I’m going to be an island for the month of January. Thanks for understanding.”

I wait a few minutes, gathering my thoughts and reply back:

“I’m going to get some help with my anxiety attacks and go on meds for them. I’m freaking out as well with my horse, finances, sister having cancer. I just left a volatile relationship of 11 years so I got issues as well. I hope you know that I have good qualities that outweigh the bad. You are a great guy. I won’t go to your island. I hope we can start anew in the Spring when we are in better places…Take care.”

His last response to me: “Cool thanks. I think you are very talented and smart. I just need to take care of myself for a while.”

I read it. Finally, a form of communication that I understand.

He’s gone.

 

 

#LeftAgain: Dating or Whatever We Call It

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The troubled road ahead

Michael’s Holiday blues are getting me down amongst other things. I introduced him to my girl friend a few weeks ago and all he does is talk about how hot she is.  I finally ask him if he would fuck her. I don’t know why I ask but my insecurities are up to no good. He hesitates for a moment and then says: “Yes.” I casually ask: “Do I have anything to worry about?” He says: “No.”

Well, that did not go over as I thought. Hmmm… My friend Jessica says she will never hurt me and has no desire to go after Michael, but that doesn’t solve my jealousy. I remember a line once: “If you can’t handle the truth, don’t go looking for it.” I should have never asked him that question.

But the truth is out. Wow! They are now friends who, call each other and hang out together without me. Does that bother me? Hell yeah! I’m a Scorpio who has a jealous streak when I’m insecure. And now, I’m insecure.

One thing after another and I’m about to lose it. I try to remain calm. Leaving me at the gym’s party weighs heavily on my mind as well as him wanting to fuck her. Even though I forgave him, I haven’t forgotten the feeling of abandonment by the one I care about.

A week later, Jessica and I are going to the Town Holiday Stroll and I invite Michael. We drink a large bottle of Champagne at his house before heading out. We are feeling good yet something is bothering me-insecurities. We walk around town and then head into a bar. I tell them I’m going to check things out and I’ll be right back. I walk about 20 feet then turn around and they’re gone.  I look in the bar area but don’t see them. I then go outside and look up and down the street.  I’m about to text them when I realize that I don’t have my phone and we don’t have an If you get lost situation. Ugh!

He left me again! They couldn’t even wait 30 seconds for me to come back? I’m psst. I walk back to Michael’s. I’m cold, drunk, and tired. I try the backdoor but it’s locked. My jealousy raises its ugly head. All I can think is that they are cozied up together at a bar somewhere without me.

I’m beyond mad. I’m irrational and now I’m in the midst of a full blown anxiety attack. I’m so angry that I want to throw something. I see his trash and I tear the bags open and throw them everywhere on his back porch.

I know it’s wrong but I can’t help myself. There’s some pillows on the floor and I lie down in the fetal position to keep warm. Jessica is a White Light, a Medium. Why doesn’t she know where I am and what I’m feeling? Why don’t they come back to his house? I came back why couldn’t they?

After what seemed like hours I finally peel myself off the floor. I don’t know what time it is but it’s late and I walk back into town. Finally I see them walking towards me, laughing. Michael says; “There you are!” Being cool is not my forte and I rip into them. I yell at the top of my lungs accusing them of sleeping together. I call her a Cunt and swear at him for leaving me again.

I then turn around and run back to his house and wait for them to come home and I yell at them some more for leaving me. Jessica storms out as I grab my keys and I jump into my car. As I turn the corner I realize that I left my phone at his house so I force myself to turn around. We have another fight and he says: “I’m so mad at you for embarrassing me”.

I yell back: “WTF! You couldn’t even wait one minute for me? What is so wrong for waiting for me?”

He just looks at me and says: “You’re a lot like me.” I glare at him. Our second fight and it’s not even a month that we are together. His careless attitude makes me cringe. I realize he’s right we are very alike, we both have anger issues. He tells me to stay. My rage dissipates and I turn into this little girl that just wants to be held.

We talk in a civilized tone. I apologize and clean up the mess I made. I end up staying the night and we have make up sex. Lying in bed, I ask him what he’s looking for and he says a family, he wants to have children. A bipolar with father issues wanting children when he can’t stand them? Hmmm…I don’t want children. All I want is to be loved by someone I love.

At 6am I awake. I can’t breath and I need to leave. I get up, put on my clothes, kiss him goodbye as he sleeps and quietly leave. He texts me later: “Wow u really did cause some mayhem by the back door last night. Weird thing is I still wanted to wake up and have sex but u were gone.” I reply back: “It’s the Scorpio in me. I did clean it up. I kissed you goodbye.”

We are in different places. We have no future…Just the present if we can get through the Holidays.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#PanicAttacks: Dating or Whatever We Call It

There’s a Christmas party at our gym and Michael who is Bipolar and has the Holiday Blues wants to go. Free food and drinks how can one pass that up? We plan on playing racquetball then go to the party.

I pick him up at 4:30 he’s in his gym clothes. I want to say: “Is that what you are wearing to the party?” But I don’t dare since he would think I’m criticizing him as his father always does. I bite my tongue and say nothing.

We arrive at the gym but the parking lot is full and we have to park on the street. We walk in but find that the courts are filled with tables of food. I look at Michael and say: “Since we are here why don’t we just work out and then join the party?”

He rolls his eyes.  I see that he’s not happy. I smile at him as I turn and go into the women’s locker room. A few minutes later I come out but can’t find him. I realize I left my phone in the car so I can’t text him. I then decide not to work out so I shower and dress and walk towards the party. Wendy the membership director comes up to me and gives me a note.

It reads, “J – I’m in a shitty mood. I’m walking home. – Michael. I fold it and put it in my pocket. I’m psst. Wendy says: “Even though he left why don’t you come and join the festivities.” I smile and walk away.

He fucking left me at the party he wanted to go to. He couldn’t even wait for me? He couldn’t call my name over the loud speaker? He couldn’t have someone come and get me in the women’s locker room?

I’m too angry to stay. I hate being left. It’s a pet peeve of mine. How dare he! I pack up my stuff and walk to the car. When I’m furious I either scream and yell or become silent. I choose the latter.

Once in my car I look at my phone and see a text from him: “Sorry I had to leave the gym. I was freaked out by all the people and how underdressed and unmotivated to work out I felt.” I ignore it.

I click the Resign button on WordFued that I play with him. He promptly texts back: “Why did you resign?” I still don’t respond. He texts again: !!!! Sorry I just sort of freaked out because there were so many people around and couldn’t find you and didn’t have my phone. Sorry!!!!

After driving around to clear my head, I pull into a parking lot and finally text back: “I’m psst. In the future if you want me in your life you won’t do that again. I hate being left especially by someone I really like. Whatever!”

“Sorry i totally schized out.” He writes.

“You knew there was a party. Whatever. I will leave you alone.”

“Just tonight. Or you can come hang out. I just freaked out standing in the lobby alone. I walked through the gym twice but kept coming back to the lobby and it was crowded but they weren’t serving drinks yet.”

“I didn’t work out just showered and look hot. I guess I’ll go to a bar and have a few drinks. Enjoy.” I text back.

“Ok sorry i totally bailed. U can Come here if you want to.

“I’m to hurt to stop by. Ttyl.

I’m too angry to go to a bar and decide to head home. What am I getting myself into? He hates the Holidays which I love, he’s Bipolar and he has panic attacks. UGH!!!!!

I really like him, I’m drawn to him. When he’s not self absorbed he’s a great guy. He makes me feel alive. As Carrie from Sex & The City said about Big: “I’m addicted to the pain.” That sums it up. Apparently I’m attracted to the Bigs of the world, men who leave. I think it’s stems from my childhood.

My mother and father had a very volatile relationship. We grew up with the police coming to our door and being driven to school in police cars. The fighting, the screaming matches between two people who once loved each other was so hard to bare.

I remember my father finally having enough and leaving his four girls with our disturbed mother. She had horrible mood swings and either lashed out at us emotionally or disappeared into her own world.

At the age of nine I packed my belongings into a little grey oval suitcase and walked to his apartment which was a mile away. I wanted to live with my dad. I couldn’t deal living with my mother any longer. I was daddy’s little girl.

Through the years my father gained custody of me and my three sisters, but it was a 10 year battle of constant unrest. I still carry the battle scars from the war.

I do understand Michael’s predicament but that doesn’t make it any easier. The feelings of being left by my emotionally unstable mother and physically by my father still haunts me. The memories are all too real.

As I drag myself into my apartment I pour myself a glass of wine and head to bed. Feeling blue and not being able to sleep I watch Oklahoma with Shirley Jones. I don’t know if it’s the movie, or the wine but I don’t want to be angry with Michael anymore.

I text him: “I’m done being mad at you. I forgive you for being a shit. I’m heading up to the mountains tomorrow”

He texts back: “Ok I will clean my house. Sorry I Totally fucked you over at the party. The mountains will be nice.”

I might have forgiven him but I haven’t forgotten. I am a Scorpio and we don’t forgive easily. Trust is earned it’s not given. I hope he understands that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#Bipolar: Dating or Whatever We Call It

After a week of being together, Michael informs me he hates the Holidays which are right around the corner and that he is Manic Bipolar. Double whammy. I almost drive off the road.

As I compose myself, I try to lighten the mood and say with a smile; “Oh so you are Eor and Tigger from Winnie the Pooh?”

“Yeah that sums me up perfectly, that’s a perfect analogy.” He says as we both laugh.

My thoughts are far different then what I speak. Ove! Why do I fall for the Van Gogh’s, the troubled souls? Is it because they make life interesting? Is it my past that draws me to these men? My dad who I loved dearly was a womanizer and my mom was mentally ill. Is history repeating itself? Will I always find comfort in men who are incapable of loving just one woman? Am I destined to follow in my parents footsteps?

I really like Michael. He’s kind and sweet, well, when he’s not self absorbed in his own bullshit. He loves my horses. He’s so gentle with them. We both have similar backgrounds. He adores his mom but has a love/hate relationship with his father. I loved my dad but had a bad relationship with my mom. We grew up in upper middle class. We love the outdoors and animals. We love sex, the more we get the more we want. We are both intense and emotional. We are both loners. He’s a Cancer and I’m a Scorpio, according to the Horoscope charts we have one of the best relationships.

We have our differences though: He’s a right wing conservative and I’m more middle of the road liberal. But we respect each other’s opinion even when we spar. He loves talk radio and I love music (even though his passion is the piano). He has gigantic mood swings, while I wear my heart on my sleeve (most of the time).

I love his spirit. I empathize with him. I am connected to his soul. I feel his pain, his passion, his intensity, but does he feel mine? Will we survive, unscathed?

 

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