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.