Life is Good

Things have settled down here nicely.  My son is happy and well adjusted and living with me full time.  EmCee after 7 months still has not paid me a dime in child support, he still throws jabs at me every now and then, but the best part is that I have my own home to come home to without him.  I can hang up the phone. I don’t have to listen to him.

And a high school crush has come back into my life in February of this year.  I never dated him because when I was 15 I dated his best friend.  But we confessed there was always an attraction, an intrigue between each other.  One date, turned to many, and I am now with a man who loves and adores me and shows me his love through his words and actions.  He praises me, he tells me daily how proud he is of me.  Just last night, he gave me a massage for no reason and I blissfully fell asleep, secure in his arms.  I didnt think my heart could heal so fast, but he is slowly making his way into my heart and I am falling in love again.

LittleG adores him too, and I see how the BF plays and interacts with him… which makes me fall in love even more.  Ladies, there is hope.  Love yourself, love your children and learn to move on.  There is light after the darkness.

I am now living, not just existing and I am finally happy.


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I do! I did! I moved out!

I said “I do!” to myself this weekend.  We had a massive blow out the Friday before my birthday, and I gave him notice: I am moving out on 10/1/11.  Everything was civil, even the move.  But there are still some covert actions which cut me to the core.  First IKEA screwed up my son’s delivery of his furniture and the men who came to assemble it, said things were missing when they weren’t.  So LittleG’s bedroom wasn’t ready in time for the move.  On 10/1 he said he would stay with EmCee… which was fine given the circumstances.  But then last night (Sunday) cable screwed up the install in LittleG’s room and he couldn’t watch TV before bed.  I used Netflix to stream a movie to his room, but he still would not sleep.  Finally I brought him into bed with me.  30 minutes later still not sleeping.  Im not fat enough (like daddy), the sheets aren’t soft enough, the pillows aren’t squishy enough.  So at 1am I drove him back to EmCee’s house, just so he would get some sleep.

Today, I didn’t make it into work.  I had to pick up LittleG and bring him to the doctor for his bad cough, then to the radiology center for a x-ray, back to the doctor for a reading, then to school to pick up his classwork and homework, then back to my house to do his school work, make dinner, clean the first floor, wash the carpet on the stairs, wait for the cable guy to come.  LittleG played in his room and told me how much he “loved it”.  Then tonight I had to go to church for LittleG’s first communion parent meeting.  I called EmCee and told him that one of us had to go and I was waiting on cable.  He tells me, “drop him off here, and find one of your friends to watch your house.”  The right thing to have done was for him to say, “I will go for the meeting, you stay home and take care of our son.”  But I’m foolish to think that.

I drop LittleG off with dinner and I tell him I will be back right after the meeting so we can go home.  On my way back, EmCee informs me “to pick him up 2 packs of cigarettes on my way there so he doesn’t have to bring LittleG out” he also informs me that LittleG wants to spend the night AGAIN at his house.  I go back there, cigarettes in hand, and EmCee has the nerve to say to me “Help me with making the bed, your son pissed it out.” So I go upstairs to help him (like he needs the help, I used to make the King sized bed by myself all the time) – and I notice the wall art which was over the bed It used to say: “Holding you, I hold everything” now it reads “I hold everything” – a bit passive aggressive?  A bit douche bag to me.  I think it was meant to be a dig at me that LittleG still likes to stay there and not with me.

I will give LittleG the benefit of the doubt.  He is a very “fair” child.  I know he feels in his heart, that since he spent the day with Mommy, it was Daddy’s time.  But I have to put my foot down.  He belongs here with me.

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Catching Up …. You Can’t Teach An Old Dog New Tricks

I filed for divorce in June.  When he found out, he flipped out.  In June, there were days where he kept me up for over 48 hours at a time in spurts.  One moment he was praising how good he was and the next moment he was tearing me down and telling me mean things such as calling me a “social moron” or calling me “sexually dysfunctional”.

For the sake of the marriage, I enlisted a marriage counselor in July.  We agreed to 8 weeks of counseling and holding off on the divorce proceedings.  We started off counseling, and the counselor gave us homework to do.  I did my part, he failed to do his part.  In counseling she told us that I was looking for an emotional connection, I wanted to feel loved, adored, appreciated and respected.  She also told him that emotional and verbal abuse scars take longer to heal than physical abuse.  While he admitted to everything I said as true and accurate, he contended that I should accept him as who he is, flaws, verbal abuse and all.  He said, “she’s got a house, a business, a car, a kid – people are jealous of her. What more does she want?”  My therapist said that he equates material things to love, whereas I equate emotional connections to love.  We were on two different realities and we needed to come together.

Later on in therapy, he said that there are no issues in the marriage.  All the problems were my issues not his.  I had a problem with him, he didn’t have a problem with me, therefore he didn’t think he belonged in therapy.  He also said that he was this way all of his life, he didn’t change, I did – and he was not willing to change for me.  When it was explained that I was 23 when we met, and Im now 34, of course, I changed, I matured and grew – and that our relationship should mature and grow too – he countered and said it shouldn’t.  Life was all about “survival” – as long as we are “surviving” it was fine.  There was no need to grow and learn more about ourselves.  That’s not what life is about.

He further went on in therapy to say that I had issues, not him.  I was insecure and I had abandonment issues.  My therapist countered, an insecure woman with abandonment issues would not file for divorce.  He couldn’t answer that.

Another issue we had in therapy was that there was no equality and no negotiation in the marriage.  He said straight out, “If its not going my way, I will shut it down”.  We had no mutuality, no mutual goals we were working on.  He said he didn’t want any more kids because he is selfish and likes his life, but he loves our son.  To my heartbreak of course.

I went to therapy by myself one day and she told me that everytime he does something or says something I was to treat him like a child.  “Stop that.  I will not take you talking that way to me.” If he threw a temper tantrum (which he did several time over the course of therapy) I was told to treat him like I would treat a child in a temper tantrum.  I should walk away and ignore him.  I tried it several times, and if I said, “Stop! Don’t say things like that!” He walked out of the car in the middle of the street one time I did that.

Therapy didn’t work out.  You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. But really, you can’t have someone change who isn’t willing to change.  That’s the bottom line.

He wanted me to accept him, flaws and all.  All I asked was to be treated a little more respectfully, both in our marriage and in bed.  Negotiate with me so we are both mutually satisfied.

So we decided on a marriage settlement agreement (MSA).  He told me, that I was to waive my irrevocable right to alimony, otherwise he wouldn’t sign.  He doesn’t want to pay child support, because I can support both myself and our son.  When I told him the courts could decide for us since he was being (again, not getting his way so we can’t negotiate) – he basically told me if these things werent in the agreement, he wouldn’t sign it.

He refuses to get a lawyer.  He took 7500 out of our business account, put it into his account and then took it out in cash.  When I accused him of hiding assets, he opened a new bank account in his name only and put it in there, because he wants the MSA to say all individually owned bank accounts will not be divided.

When I brought up the issue of when he was going to sign the MSA, he called me childish for wanting a divorce.  He told me that it was selfish of me to destroy our family just for the sake of me being happy.  He told me that I really didnt know what I wanted, I was so indecisive that I was the one doing damage to our family, not him.  He told me our therapist was irrational (she called him out on his verbal abuse) and I should seek counseling from someone who was rational and would “knock some sense into me”.

Yes, I am a bit undecided.  I spent 10 years with a man, whom I have a son with.  I don’t want to break up a family, but raising a son in this environment isn’t healthy.  (He feels it is).  I read statistics that children who grow up in an intact but angry family have more self esteem issues than those who go through with a divorce.  He is once again making promises (which he has in the past and has broken) that we can have more children and buy a real house for the family.   I am afraid that this is all just smoke and mirrors to get me to rescind the divorce papers so he will have his way.  I dont want to start over, its pretty scary! But I dont want to live a life full of lies and regrets. I dont want to look back 10 years from now and say, “I should have moved out.”

He called me deceitful for hiring an attorney and filing for divorce behind his back.  He told me that wives dont do that to their husbands. He has left me confused about our marriage – one moment he is happy and says we can have a child – the next minute he says he is not having a child with me to “save” a failing marriage.  So I am left not knowing where I stand.  If I go back, he will use the excuse we have issues to avoid more children.  If I try and go, he will say he will have more kids.

I can not forget him calling me a social moron (which I am not, I have more friends than him), or that I am sexually dysfunctional (I cant orgasm with him, I wonder why, perhaps there is no emotional connection?) or when he picked up my son by the collar of his shirt and choked him, or when he tried ramming me into the couch chocking me because I wanted to tape him saying “he will make sure I am in a cardboard box with our son, homeless) or when he told me to tell our son “tell him he will never see Daddy again” or how he woke our son up in the middle of the night and forced me to tell him “Mommy is leaving and breaking up the family” – I cant forget these are his manipulative ways when he doesn’t get his own way.  When he first found out I had an attorney, he left our son alone (he is 6) in the living room for 3 hours after he woke up without breakfast or lunch – because he was on the phone trying to call attorneys.  I had come home from work to check on our son and was raging mad that he was starving while my husband was too busy in the bathroom on the phone trying to make arrangements.

Right now, we are not speaking to each other.  I sit on my computer after dinner for hours playing games trying to ignore our issues, while he sits upstairs on his computer doing whatever he does.  We live a life of avoidance and not speaking.  He said the other day to our son that our marriage was once again “normal” – I guess not speaking to each other is what he considers a “normal happy marriage”.

Today I found his email open, he has subscribed to three dating sites, I was mad.  So I signed up with a fake email address and filled out the profile just to see what he has been up to.  He logs into these accounts daily it seems and he is looking for “dating but nothing serious”.  He also says he is looking for a “smart-ass” to have some fun with and it would be a bonus if you were a “smart-ass and a yoga instructor” so he can see you pull some moves.  This is not normal!  I know men look at porn, but it is completely disrespectful to have online profiles looking for dating!!! So much for him trying to save a marriage!

I have the final draft of the MSA sitting in my email, along with a copy of my CIS for him.  I am to email him and say I need the name of your attorney or the name of the attorney you will be consulting with to enter into these documents.  If you are not obtaining one, you need to contact my lawyer to schedule an appointment for the court stenographer to record a meeting between you and my lawyer so that he has advised you of your rights and you are entering into this MSA without duress and understand its contents.  I also need to ask him to look over the CIS and sign a form stating it is true to his knowledge or have him fill out his own CIS.  – I am dreading this moment because I know another argument will ensue over it.  When do I do it?  During the school week so my son’s studies will be affected?  During the weekend so I will be berated, belittled and screamed at for 48 hours straight while my son is home with us?

My lawyer says once the MSA goes over to him and we know who his lawyer is, or if he is going to come into his office, then we can get moving.  If he doesn’t respond, then he will write up a letter to him stating I am moving out with my son.  Let him get a lawyer and go to court to fight over it.  My lawyer says a judge will see the divorce was applied for in June, marital counseling in July and August, served in August, failed to respond to the service by the September deadline and failed to sign the MSA that we had agreed on … and will laugh in his face that now he is seeking me to come back home with our son.

Wish me luck, pray for me.  I need all the strength I can get.  I’m not sure when to send him the MSA.  My birthday is next week, I’m thinking it would be a good birthday gift to myself.

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Screaming Inside, Does Anyone Hear?

I feel like screaming right now.  How can a good evening turn sour so quickly?  Tonight, after dinner, I sat on the couch cuddling with LittleG as EmCee sat in the kitchen entertaining his long time friend, Dee.  (All names have been changed to protect identities).  It was just past bedtime for LittleG and of course, the rowdiness kicks in – climbing on me, pulling my hair, tickling me – all in the name of fun – you know the last dance before the evening ends.  So EmCee begins to walk past the TV as in saying (time for bed), and LittleG goofing around says, “I can push you.” and so he does… and EmCee says “Oh yea, well I can walk right through you.”

And so he does, only he accidentally knocks LittleG into the wooden and glass coffee table and LittleG’s head hits it so hard, I flew off the couch to carry him to the kitchen for an ice pack – immediately.

But no sooner than I can get my hands on ice, LittleG is screaming, “You don’t care about me.  No one cares about me.  My family doesn’t care about me, my friends don’t care about me.”

He goes running upstairs, but before he goes completely up, he pokes his head over the banister, “When I get older, I’m gonna blame you, like you blame me for everything.”

Words of a child.  Not my words, even though later on, EmCee firmly stated to me that the only way a child would say that is if he heard it from me.  No, my dear, EmCee, don’t be fooled by a child’s ability to perceive.  He’s not dumb, nor is he stupid.  He is quite smart and very well aware that you, EmCee, blame everything on everyone, but yourself.

It’s time to look in a mirror, EmCee.

After I comfort LittleG upstairs and finally get him to bed, I am fuming.  Sure it was an accident, but EmCee’s behavior last night combined with tonight, was just a bit too much for me to take.  So I broke.

But here’s a quick run down of last night (2/3/11) that kind of prompted tonight’s battle:

Last night, I called EmCee from the car and said, “I’m making meatloaf, mashed potatoes and carrots for dinner, is that alright?”

EmCee: “Why don’t you make meatballs and spaghetti?”  (His favorite thing, but he would eat a whole box of spaghetti himself if i let him).

LittleG: But I want meatloaf!

EmCee: But you don’t eat meatloaf.

LittleG: But Mommy says it tastes like meatballs.

Me, to EmCee:  It’s easier if I make meatloaf, its quicker.  It’s late already and I have to pick up your mom.  If I have to run to the store to get basil and sauce, its going to be very late by the time dinner is ready.  Besides, I thought you liked meatloaf?

EmCee: “Fine, but make meatballs tomorrow when Dee comes over.”

(Sounds good so far right??”

At the dinner table:

EmCee sees LittleG picking at his meatloaf, “What’s the matter LittleG?”

LittleG: “Nothing” (quietly)

a few moments later, LittleG: “Mommy, this meatloaf tastes sour.”

Me: “Ok let me taste it.”  (I taste it) “Its not sour, LittleG, that’s the way it tastes.”

LittleG: Well, I don’t like it.

EmCee: “You ruined my dinner.  You RUINED dinner for everyone.  It’s all because of YOU that Mommy made meatloaf. I wanted spaghetti.” (In his condescending, I am God tone).

How childish, EmCee is.  I made EmCee apologize for his comment almost immediately, I refuse to sit there and watch my son be treated like that.  I told him that just because LittleG is 6, doesn’t mean he doesn’t have feelings.  EmCee reluctantly apologized.  It wasn’t until nearly midnight that EmCee told me that he realized he was wrong.  But I don’t think EmCee actually understands the degree his words can scar LittleG.

Tonight, after bed.

I explained to EmCee that his words scar LittleG and I can’t take it anymore.  I tell him that for 2 years we have been going on like this and its not improving.  That I’m not happy.  That we are two different people.  That he would be happier with someone else to fuck.  That I am not the same person anymore, I have changed.  That I can’t take that every night there is an argument or a disagreement in the house.  That I have to walk on eggshells to know if he’s in a good or bad mood.  That I have to tell LittleG “Don’t do that, you may get Daddy angry.” That his temper can change on a drop of a dime, and we have to be little soldiers or he gets upset.

I told him “I will not tolerate your abuse anymore!”

“Well if you only played by the rules, I wouldn’t get upset.”

“Exactly, but who defines those rules?  You do.  You make the rules and we all have to abide by them.  If I want to go to yoga, you talk me out of it, if I want to go to the mall, I can’t go alone.  If I want to go out with my friends, you tell them just to stay here. Who makes these rules, I don’t”

“Well you don’t listen to me anyway… (goes off on a tirade of how he gives me all these “freedoms”, how he is a good father and always takes care of Gabe when I’m not around, etc…)

“EmCee I’m pointing out issues we are having.  Instead of acknowledging them and trying to resolve them, once again, you are pointing out things LittleG and I do.  You’re circumventing the real issues here.  Why don’t you just take responsibility for once?”

“I don’t have any issues, but you do.  Go sow your wild oats, go have your freedom and find yourself.  If that’s what you want, just do it.  Leave.  As a matter of fact I’ll help you pack up.  But be careful what you wish for.”

“Be careful what I wish for?  That sounds like a threat.”

“No, that’s not a threat, just be careful what you wish for.  But you’re going to regret it.  You’re going to regret leaving me.  This is a big mistake.”

(At this point, he takes his computer, and says goodnight and begins to walk upstairs)

“Are you just going to leave and not finish this discussion?”

“There’s nothing to discuss, I am done.  You’re going to regret it.”

“But you won’t even acknowledge the issues or talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.

(I follow him upstairs and he takes LittleG to the potty.  I get LittleG into his pajamas and EmCee proceeds to put headphones on and go to sleep.  The conversation is done.)

What I realized tonight, is that all I ever wanted was for him to acknowledge his mistakes.  But tonight, I realized he never will.  He will never accept responsibility for his actions or words.  And if that’s the case, there is nothing else I can do, except move on.

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You’re Ruining My Life

I confessed to the girls at work the other day, why I am in such a miserable and often bitchy mood so often.  Hearing the words come out of my mouth, I thought to myself, what I am saying sounds awful.  It sounds abusive.  It just sounds so wrong.  It brought one of my co-workers to tears, she couldn’t believe I was going through so much crap at home (I tend to hide things pretty well).  But I got the support I needed, I heard the things I needed to hear.

“If you don’t get away now, LittleG is going to blame you for the rest of his life for not protecting him.”

“If you don’t get away, LittleG is going to turn into his father.”

“If you don’t get away, you are ruining your chance of ever being happy.”

“If you don’t get away, things are going to get worse.  They never get better, e.  They never do.”

I know they are right, but in the end, I still make excuses in my head.

I have an appointment with a lawyer tomorrow.  I’ve tried twice to schedule this appointment but due to the crappy weather we are having in the Northeast, I had to cancel and reschedule twice.  (Actually, the first time he decided to stay home from work and I couldn’t just disappear for 3 hours – no way for me to justify my actions to him).  And then I realized, no matter what I do, I have to check in with him.  No matter where I go, he needs to know.  Sounds a bit control-freak, no?  But in honest and open relationships, wouldn’t you call your partner and tell them, “Hey, I’m going to yoga after work.”  I mean you wouldn’t just disappear, would you?  No, common sense says that you would call so as not to worry.

But here’s the catch.  ‘Hey, I’m going to go to yoga after work.” His response, “Do you really have to go?  Why don’t you take the night off, you’ve worked all day.”  (Yea, and that’s why I need yoga.  Oh, and it would keep me out of the house for another hour or two away from you.)

So I was thinking, what exactly do I tell this lawyer.  Of course I should explain why I want a divorce,  but I don’t want it to get messy.  I am the type of person that always says, “Why can’t we all just get along?”  But I know, I have to fight fire with fire and I have to bring out the big guns to get away from him.  But I don’t in my heart, want to air out all of our dirty laundry and I don’t want to claim the mental/physical/emotional abuse and sexual demands.  I just don’t want to.  But in the end, I know that unless he agrees to a clean and divided asset break, this is going to get ugly and it will go to the court system.

And I know I need this conference tomorrow so I know how to proceed in the future.  The future being less than 6 months away.  It’s kind of scary, thinking about it.  I have never lived on my own, I have always lived with someone (be it my family, then my roommate, then EmCee.) Will I be able to financially afford it?  Yes, if I can keep our business.  If not, I will be broke.  But I will survive.  I have to survive.  I have LittleG to protect.  I can’t have him ever tell me, “Mom, You’re Ruining My Life!” Because I want him to be happy, healthy and feel loved.

Updates on EmCee’s outrageous behaviors:

  • EmCee has been up to his old tricks since my last post.  He’s indulged himself in 250.00 ice skates (because we were going skating and he refuses to rent skates).  I walked out of the store just when it was time to purchase, saying I wanted a cigarette.  It was my way of playing his game so I didn’t have to pay.  Screw him, let him foot the bill.  Only problem is he didn’t pay any bill, he used the company credit card to pay for his skates.  And when we got to the ice rink, he took one run around it and complained his back hurt.  Oh boo, hoo.  Maybe if you didn’t weight 300 pounds it wouldn’t hurt.  Poor LittleG didn’t even get a chance to learn to skate because we were rushed home so quickly. And I’m sure we will never see those $250 dollar skates ever again.  That’s some expensive “rental”.
  • Last night, the water pipe to the fridge decided it was going not to work.  EmCee decided he was going to investigate it and open it, and didn’t even move any of my papers out from underneath. (One of my home office desks sits under it).  My books and study material got soaked and LittleG’s art supplies did as well.  I barked, “Would it have hurt you to have moved my desk over 12 inches?  Or you could have asked me to do it.”  (The desk is only about 10 pounds, really lightweight, there’s nothing on it but a few notebooks and papers).  Just shows you how inconsiderate he is.
  • Not to mention how many arguments he’s gotten into with LittleG.  I keep reminding him to stop dropping the F-bomb when he speaks to our son.  Our son is 6, not an adult and deserves to be treated like a 6 year old and with respect.
  • To piggy back on the LittleG arguments, LittleG got his report card on Friday.  All A’s and A+’s! I was so very proud of him!  But in the comments section I see, “LittleG is a very bright young man.  However his behavior in class is often disruptive to other students and at times is disrespectful.”  Gee, I wonder why, let’s see …maybe its because he has learned first hand from his father that it’s ok to be a disrespectful, demanding person.  So now I have a conference with the teacher this week.  I’m debating on whether or not to let her in on what is going to happen by the summer time.
  • Last night our 19 year old employee posts to her FB a picture of a doughnut and hot cocoa from Dunkin’.  In the background there were the words (DD’s advertising for their chocolate lover’s month) “Reverse Boston Kreme”  – I made the comment, oh I love what it says in the background … it’s priceless! lol  Well EmCee saw that I posted on her picture and decided to make a comment of his own.  “Reverse Boston Kreme, I have stories about that, I know firsthand about Reverse Boston Kreme.”  The thing is, its one thing when you are in the office and joking with the girls.  Yes, its no surprise, we girls giggle about sex and guys.  It’s a completely other thing when your 42 yr old male boss makes a sexual innuendo on your personal FB page.  I told EmCee his comment was not appropriate, and told him to delete it before it was posted.  He deletes it and writes something to the effect of, “I had a really great comment on Reverse Boston Kreme, but I was scolded by my wife and was made to remove it.”  Real childish.  The girl writes back, “Do I really want to know?”  EmCee posts back, “No”.  Because honestly she didn’t, that would have been creepy.  But he is creepy, in the perverted sense, you know?
  • A few nights ago, he told me to “Go Fuck Myself” and in case you don’t remember the post back in November when I told him the exact same thing, his response to me was “You’re going to regret it you fucking cunt.”  Well when he said it to me, I turned around and told him the same thing, “You better watch your mouth or your going to regret it.”
  • Feisty I am.  I’m learning not to take his shit anymore.  Tonight, he looks at me and says over dinner, “You know you haven’t been too nice to me lately.” No that’s right I haven’t I’m tired of your shit, because you EmCee, you’re ruining my life!!! And I’m not going to take it anymore!

So, I have had it with him.  I’m learning to stand up for myself.  I will not tolerate living with someone like him.  I caught myself the other night, I actually sat on the opposite end of the couch – all the way away from him! I usually sit next to him.  I also haven’t been calling him as much during the day and I’ve been spending a lot more time in our office location, just so I don’t have to see him.  LittleG too, also asks to come to the office with me afterschool even when his Dad is home working, because he doesn’t want to hear EmCee’s mouth.

A change is coming, but not soon enough!


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Piece of Ass

Now, don’t get me wrong, I am definitely not a prude.  If someone was to call me a “piece of ass” I’d take it as a compliment, because your average 20-40 year old guy probably uses the term more often than not, and not in a derogatory way – its just merely a way of them saying that  the woman who has caught their eye – is sexy.   But there is a time and a place for everything, and there is also a way of saying it that can turn a simple phrase into something vulgar and disgusting.

EmCee has a way of offending me with his comments.  Deep down in my heart, I know that’s just the way he is – as my dear (deceased) grandmother would say, “He’s crude, rude and uncouth.”  (Mind, you she never met EmCee, but I know that famous phrase of hers would have been uttered if she met him).

So EmCee is a little rough around the edges sometimes.  I know he doesn’t always mean what he says.  I know he’s not the roses and romance type.  I knew this when I married him.

But after nearly 10 years of being together, you would think he would know me well enough to know what to say to get laid.

Tuesday night (Jan 18, 2011) I was watching TV, one of my favorite shows, The Good Wife.  After it was over EmCee starts flipping through the DVR and puts on the Playboy show Foursome.  I sit idly by, on the couch, watching not for the sex, but gawking at the stupidity of the episode’s cast.  After that show finished, EmCee pulls out a bag full of porn videos (that he picked up from his friend) and proceeds to put one in.

I start to doze off on the couch, after all it’s nearly 1 am and I was tired from working all day (and subsequently doing the household chores, dinner, homework and such).  But God forbid, I tell EmCee I am tired and want to go to sleep, he pouts like a 2 year old.

At 1:30 am as I am napping (I wouldn’t call it sleep), I get woken up, “Let me see that ass of yours.”

Excuse me?  The mere words disgust me.  Now, I understand every couple has 3 stages of sex – fucking (when you just have to have your partner for a quick romp), sex (when you just want sex and you love your partner) and making love (you know the soft sweet, kiss you all night, caress you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear).   Mind you, EmCee has only 1 version of sex in his repertoire – and that’s fucking.

Usually, our sex session will consist of: EmCee expecting a blow job – a blow job is his idea of foreplay and he gives nothing in return to arouse me or get me interested.  After he gets a little head, he then expects to fuck and everytime he tries to have anal sex with me (which at this point, I flat out refuse to give into).  Once he’s done fucking me and is ready to “bust a nut” (as he so eloquently calls it) he pulls out, cums on some body part and then walks out to clean himself up.

While I am left in the bed, unfulfilled, unsatisfied and left holding the vibrator to please myself.  That’s just a saying, not that I’m using a vibrator while he fucks me (I’m usually just praying that he finishes up quickly), but the point is, if I want to orgasm, at this point, I need to use a vibrator because EmCee is done “working”.  He will then lay on the bed, smoke a cigarette and watch TV ignoring me.

So then what’s the point of me having sex with him?  Give me one good reason why, I should have sex with him, when sex is a one way street?

And I’ve told him, time and time again, if you want to get me interested, why don’t you initiate sex, you know, touch me, talk to me, kiss me, go down on me (oral sex), do something … just don’t expect me to give you a blow job and get in the mood without even warming me up!  His response usually is, well I kiss you and you pull away, I try to touch you and you don’t like it, I’ve tried to give you oral sex and you don’t like it.

Yes, EmCee that’s because your level of enthusiasm for doing any of those things is rated at a -10 (negative).  You don’t put any effort into it.  I think you rather eat a bowl of spaghetti than touch me or try to arouse me.

So when EmCee tells me, “Let me see that ass of yours.” It’s no wonder why I am unresponsive.  Whenever we have sex it’s not pleasurable for me.  It’s boring, routine and quite frankly, I feel that I am just being used.  That’s not love.  Maybe in his head that’s love, but it’s not for me, not anymore.  I refuse to be used as a “Piece of Ass.”

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Don’t Fear The Reaper

The door was open and the wind appeared
The candles blew and then disappeared
The curtains flew then he appeared
Saying don’t be afraid

– Don’t Fear The Reaper, Blue Oyster Cult

There’s something you should know.  Since I was a child, I feared death and loved life.  I often questioned if life was so great, so enjoyable, why did it have to end?  The process of death & dying I never took lightly – often the mere thought would send me spiraling into tears.  But that all changed last year when I met someone who I now consider a very dear friend of mine, M. 

I met M via the internet through casual conversation on twitter actually, about historical churches.  Our conversations which would go on for weeks via email would touch on spiritual topics, religions, history and metaphysical topics.  We spoke about our different upbringings (M lives in Europe) our current life’s work and so on.  But what we really bonded on was a spiritual connection.

When I visited Europe last year (with about 40 of my closest girlfriends from around the world, its a yearly pilgrimage we take) M also visited me.  During our email conversations, M would often say that he would not touch on the topic of Death with me because he knew how emotional it could be.  We would discuss it if we ever met in person.

When I met M, we took a walk around the city visiting various churches together, exploring the architecture and talking about the history and the religion which the building was affiliated.  After dinner one evening, I blurted out, “I don’t want to die!” and the floodgates opened.  M listened intently to everything I said and responded so gently to my outburst – I need not worry about dying.  M explained situations he had personally gone through, and explained that there is indeed existence after death, it is just not an existence neither you nor I have experienced during our mortal lives.

I had never before spoken to an individual who had words so comforting or words that I believed so deeply.   For the first time in my life, I found comfort, hope and faith.  M has always been, and will continue to be a spiritual rock for me.  M’s visited my home and stayed with EmCee, myself and Little G – and has been in my life for about 2 years now.  I’m an only child and M is about as close to a brother as I can get in this point in my life.

When I was visiting this year (last week) I got the awful news from my childhood best friend that her mother died.  Her mom was the inspiration for my business (I am in the same industry she was in) and I was deeply saddened by her passing.  It was like my own mother died.   My heart bled for my best friend, my heart bled for her family.

When I heard the news, I spoke to M.  And again (almost to the same day last year) we had a second conversation about death and dying.  But because our friendship had grown so much from the prior year, the conversation was much deeper and more insightful.  It comforted me and gave me hope.

Due to the time difference, I called EmCee as soon as it was daybreak in Jamaica to tell him of the news.  I told him the wake was on Monday (the day I was flying home) and Tuesday and the funeral mass was Wednesday morning.

“Well, you don’t have to go to the wake or the funeral do you?” EmCee barked over the phone as if her Mom’s passing was an inconvenience to him.

“Of course I do, EmCee.  That’s like my own Mom.  She’s my best friend.  How could I not go?” I responded.

“Well, she does realize you live an hour away in (another state)?” EmCee replied, almost annoyed that I was considering 3 days of constant travel.

“She’s not asking me to go, I am telling you that I am going.”  I had to put my foot down.  This is a man who has no regard for religion, the church or death.  “I have to pay my respects.  This is like family to me.”  But then again, I was speaking to a man who just had his cousin’s mom die and didn’t even go to the wake – add no regard for family to the list too.

Needless to say, I did make it to both days of the wake, but due to the time (and my son’s school schedule) I wasn’t able to make it to the funeral mass.  But I am glad that I was able to be with her and the family during this time.

Death, no it’s never been easy to me.  But standing there in the funeral home I was surprisingly calm.  I knew she went onto the next life – whether you call that heaven or reincarnation (or whatever you will) she is existing again.  I pray her journey be a happy one in the comfort of the angels.

EmCee and I had prior conversations to this regarding death, and he doesn’t believe in Heaven or Hell.  He doesn’t believe in anything.  He believes that once we die – we die – the end.  There is nothing more after our last breath.  During that conversation I had with him, it was then I realized, that when I die – I want to be holding the hand of someone who will give me courage and hope – by saying to me, “I will see you in Heaven, I will see you in the next life.”  I don’t want to be holding the hand of someone on my death bed who is saying, “Well, goodbye.  I hope you had a nice life because this is it.”

Because this isn’t it.  It’s not over.  This isn’t the end.  Those who believe shall be saved, those who believe will pass on to the next existence.  Those who believe, know … don’t fear the reaper.

Perhaps a bit morbid of a topic to blog upon, but this is just another way EmCee and I are totally incompatible – we are just on two different pages.  And its not just death, its the spiritual and religious aspect.  I have always been fascinated with religions and have a strong belief in a higher being (call him God, call him what you will) and EmCee has not.  When I was younger, I played into the whole notion that people of different religious backgrounds could overcome their differences – but now that I am older and closer to God, I realize that I need to have a partner who believes in a higher being just as much as I do – and who believes that they will see me in Heaven again – after this life is over.

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