2 days in a row??

Could it be possible?? I have decided that there is nothing so sad as being in a relationship and being lonely.

It's funny: I know if I broke up with him now, a large portion of his friends would look at him and say, "What did you do?" He would think since he threw money at me, that would keep it alive. Nope. Need my hugs, need my kisses. (Sex is negotiable.) Keep your fuckin money. I've already seen that's he's meeting the Evil Lesa for a beer on Friday. Let's see if he keeps that appointment. (Damn my intelligence. He hasn't figured out you have to log out of facebook as of yet.)

Dad sent me $2500. Bless his heart. Guilt of so many years of no responses? Who cares. Need it now. So that'll get mortgage company off my back for a little while, plus a few others. Contacting EDD, what to do next? Cliff starts paying $400 again 7/1, Dave is paying $150 a week. Looks good on paper, let's see what happens. Kids are driving me insane. I'd like to see Dave do what I do. He has people to share the drive now, Amber moving in soon at $375 a month, makes $36.50 an hour (oops, he got a raise to $38.00), and he's still trying to tell me how bad he has it. I just listen, nod my head, all the while thinking, "Asshole. You have no idea." He's making plans for us to go to Las Vegas for Carol and Rod's birthdays/anniversary thang in October. I'd like to hold on until then. Sick, I know. But I'd love to go to L.V. sans MIL, SIL, kids, and ex. I might even have some fun. I did have fun when I went with Karen and Kirsten to Reno and that was what...four years ago? I'll drive Dave under the table, then stay out all night. It's possible. Win a million, not need his handouts...hey, it could happen.

I am just no good with men

So the next Friday night (which would have been August 7, 2009), I meet a guy. Dave. I had talked to the bartender about her life and a man that had never married, no kids, was going to Austraila cause his dad had never been and now he was dying...you know, the usual. And I see this guy at the end of the bar smiling at me. Nah, I think, he's smiling at the guy sitting next to him. Nope, he's smiling at me, as he comes walking towards me. We start chatting and one of the first things he says is, You know this is metal night. Yes, says I. You like metal? Yes. You like metal?? Yes. (What is he, learning impaired?)

Now granted, I'm me. And I'm wearing a white, button down cotton shirt, blue jeans, and tennies. I probably am the least "metally" person in there. But there's where our relationship started. We kissed, and it was great. And until November 20, 2009, our relationship was wonderful. But then Cliff moved out, our relationship became real, and it was all downhill after that.

Now the sex was never that great. Oh Dave's a good pounder. He's not skinny, so when he's on top, you know he's there. And since he's in construction, he's got great arms and shoulders to grab onto. But all he does is pound, so you better either get your cunt all lined up or be able to get off by pounding, or else you need to be a great actress. And he doesn't moan. Now I can suck the nails out of a board (and he says I'm good), but I can't tell when I'm giving him head if he likes it or not. And he doesn't come, so I just suck until I get bored. I've lost track of how many men I've told in my lifetime that I can do without the sex, but I can't do without the kissing and hugging of it all. Dave used to kiss me so much, I would just remove my glasses since they would get all funked up. Then awhile ago, he did kiss me like that again. I started crying. He never kisses me anymore and the last time we had sex, I think it was March. The last time I had regular pounding sex was November. We were at a bar about two weeks ago and I kissed him goodbye; he says No tongue honey. I couldn't help myself: "Oh honey. When was the last time you gave me any tongue?" No answer for that one. And I still haven't had any tongue. Me. The touch whore.

So why am I still with him? I'm sitting his kid for $150 a week and I need the money. I don't want to go back to my alcoholic, depressive husband and will do just about anything to make cash. Including swallowing my pride for a while. Funny thing is, all his friends warned him about me when we first started dating: she's only after your money, she's only wants your stuff... and I loved him. Met all his friends, they love me, want to "keep" me. And now, through his neglect, I am becoming the women they warned him about. He keeps promising me that my birthday will be wonderful, he's gonna spend all this money. He makes all this money. Christmas is gonna be great. Know what I want? I want him to take $40 and fix my broken walkway ("That wouldn't take much.") I want him to bring over his weed whacker (has mentioned it only about four times) and whack my backyard. I want him to take me in his arms like he used to and funk up my glasses. I want him to listen and stop dismissing my life. Wait, maybe spending money on me would be cheaper.