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Been too damn busy to write in here in a minute. But things have progressed at a smooth, if rapid pace:
I decided to say, yes, fuck it, move on in with me.
He is in the process of doing that now.
He told his wife where he was moving to.
He reported that she said simply, "Silentwaters is a nice girl". And left it at that. No more was said about it.
He said he thinks from the way she said it, it was meant kind of like, "she must be a nice girl to put up with you and your shit", but I think by now she's got to know we're... sleeping together.
Especially because he told her to just keep his bed, which was a nice Four Seasons brand Heavenly bed or whatever that costs several thousand dollars, and initially, he told her, "I'm keeping MY bed, thankyouverymuch".
Now that he's thought it over, he has decided to give it up so I won't have to sleep in the energy-sadness of their marriage bed, we can just have our own new bed.
Secretly I am a bit relieved, but the bed itself sounded really nice; those things are kind of legendary in the hospitality industry and I've never had a bed that nice.
I got rid of my/my ex's bed as soon as I could find a buyer. I just didn't want the damn thing in the house. It felt SO so much better around here with it gone. There was so much fucking sadness in that bed. So much pain. The chemo days, the sleepless aching lonely nights, the 3 am newbie colostomy bag accidents, etc. (At least I had the foresight to put down thick quilted crib pads for us to sleep on at the time just in case of accidents like that.)
It had a nice memory foam topper and my ex wanted me to save it for him (lol, sorry. no. That is the one spiteful thing- I do not give a FUCK how much you wanted that foam topper, the bed was the platonic item of betrayal in our entire relationship, go FUCK yourself, you're lucky I didn't just come up here and take an axe to the goddamn thing) I thought about dragging it out to the desert somewhere and burning it out of spite while dancing around it naked or some shit, lol. But in the end, I just took off the cover and washed it, did my best to smudge/cleanse/febreze the whole thing, and when I was satisfied it was clean enough/retained nothing besides the sad memories in my mind, I sold it, and the new owner was very happy to have it in his new apartment.
That was necessary for me. The absence of that bed gave me untold peace of mind.
I've been sleeping on my landlord's bed in the guest room ever since.
He doesn't mind. He's cool like that.
I was prepared to accept Mr. Man's nice bed because 1. it was so damn expensive and 2. he really spoke of it as "my bed", not "our bed", ... and also 3. their relationship-ending drama was not anywhere near as 'sick' as mine, it was just normal dissent. But I think he felt there was a lot of sexual deprivation and sadness in that bed with her too, so in the end I think he took a spiritual cue from me, and decided not to bring it here, after all.
I would have supported/accepted his decision either way, but... I am touched at his choice.
I dunno why I'm spending so many words on this.
I guess it's a little bigger deal to me than I wanted to admit.
So yeah. No knock-down drag out fights from the ex-wife yet. Like I said, she's got to have some inkling that he is getting laid, probably by me, because of the bed thing, and because he said she even mentioned to him that he seems calmer.
though I don't know if she realizes how together-together we are. This is not just fuck-buddy status. It's scary how fast it has become comfortable to have him in my life. Strangely somehow I feel like we both are just most comfortable living in this sort of... married-type partner pattern. (Side note: REALLY WTF OMG HOW DID THIS EVEN HAPPEN I CAN'T EVEN-) We're like... both taking to this domestic bliss thing like fish to water. We've fast forwarded like 3 years worth of relationship in like, 3 months, somehow. It's... scary. I guess we both produce a lot of oxytocin? Maybe that's the only thing keeping me from running screaming. That and... Goddammit I'm just tired of being alone! So, so tired of that shit. Alone, for like 10 years. Alone, WITH someone who professed to love me. Alone, after he got himself into dumbshit and taken away to prison. I've eaten alone, slept alone, gone to movies alone, worked alone, built my nightlife career alone, lost my sex drive because I was monogamous and faithful and there was no other way to manage my own utter sexual loneliness, I mean... is it okay? Isn't it okay to be my turn now? I can haz companionship? Is that okay?
As for him, he was already in a "family mood" for like the last 4 years, and he just needed a partner who had a more natural connection with him. So maybe I'm kind of a replacement but... We're not gettin' any younger. He doesn't have to disrupt his partnership patterns all that much- now he just gets appreciated and reciprocated.
And now I get the same.
I guess I'm... unable to come up with a good reason why this is a problem, even if it's a little unorthodox.
Like, it's has the markers of being kind of a scary thing, but then you look at it and you're like, "wait, but ya'll's fucked-upness meshes like gears, those are all the reasons it works just fine."
So.
*shrug* ehhh?
I'mma just go with it.
I feel like his... "invasion" of my life, lol... It's a good kinda stretch, like when he's really hard and first slides into me and it's too tight and it hurts a little, but then my body gets used to the idea and makes all this nice wetness and I stretch to fit him and pretty soon we have a nice 'n smooth fucking rhythm? And what I thought was going to hurt at first, really turns out to fit like a snug glove. LOL *blush* sorry for the graphic analogy but I feel like our whole life together is kind of built like that.
Uhm, this morning in our afterglow we were even talking about having children. Mostly because I hit a point last night when we were banging and I ...might have blurted out something about how I wanted to feel him cum inside me... and he acknowledged it but in the end we got busy with other positions and he didn't, but this morning, we were continuing our lovemaking, and he brought it up again and asked me if I really wanted him to. And the answer is, yeah, I really do because I love the feeling of it, and you know as close as I was to my ex, we never did. I've really missed that... ultimate intimacy. (and of course I'm on the pill now so it shouldn't be a huge worry) but...
Yyyyeah.
On the other hand, when I'm not flooded with sex brain chemicals and can think a little more "sober", I'm... more than a little scared about... tempting fate. I mean, talking about it this morning, we agreed we aren't in any position to have kids right away. We're not financially stable yet, and I still have career stuff I want to do first. But he told me, if I do get pregnant, that he would not want me to have an abortion. And when I told him I felt ill-equipped to raise children he laughed, and said, "what? No, you'd be a great mother. You're good with kids." Then he was silent for a moment and murmured, "...You're good with my kids."
It's true, his baby girls are sweet and I get along with them just fine. And I do like kids and I've always been a good big sister, babysitter, etc. ...I'm sure, if kids come into my life, I'll do the best I can by them. And he's a good daddy, and I could actually see myself having kids with him. Uhm. Actually, no, it's more than that. I... god help me but I actually... kind of ... ok I find myself weirdly... *wanting* to have kids with him. (GAH omg knock on wood throw salt over shoulder fuckfuckfuck nope with a side of no... right? Right self? We're all agreed? with the ix-nay on the abymaking-bay? What the- you're not even fighting this, are you? YOU LISTEN TO ME, SELF, WE AIN'T GOT TIME FO' DIS SHIZZLE RIGHT NOW. HAVE YOU LOST YOUR GOT-DAMN MIND?)
*sigh*
Maybe...
We already had the "How do you feel about me being a stepmom to your kids?" convo (answer: He is cool with it/trusts me). But it just always seemed like children were something that happened to other people, not me. Never me, for some reason. I just figured I'd have my career and die an old maid, or something. lol.
Shit okay I can't sit around and ruminate on this all day. I have to make room in the closets for his clothing when he gets back (he's at his old place right now gathering up stuff to bring here).
We're not making babies. Anytime soon.
We're NOT. Goddammit.
What the actual fuck, self? You are like, brainwashed. That is some good pheromone he is putting off. And sure your biological clock is ticking but you don't have to answer the call right now, you've got time. Jesus Christ get a hold of yourself, woman.
I decided to say, yes, fuck it, move on in with me.
He is in the process of doing that now.
He told his wife where he was moving to.
He reported that she said simply, "Silentwaters is a nice girl". And left it at that. No more was said about it.
He said he thinks from the way she said it, it was meant kind of like, "she must be a nice girl to put up with you and your shit", but I think by now she's got to know we're... sleeping together.
Especially because he told her to just keep his bed, which was a nice Four Seasons brand Heavenly bed or whatever that costs several thousand dollars, and initially, he told her, "I'm keeping MY bed, thankyouverymuch".
Now that he's thought it over, he has decided to give it up so I won't have to sleep in the energy-sadness of their marriage bed, we can just have our own new bed.
Secretly I am a bit relieved, but the bed itself sounded really nice; those things are kind of legendary in the hospitality industry and I've never had a bed that nice.
I got rid of my/my ex's bed as soon as I could find a buyer. I just didn't want the damn thing in the house. It felt SO so much better around here with it gone. There was so much fucking sadness in that bed. So much pain. The chemo days, the sleepless aching lonely nights, the 3 am newbie colostomy bag accidents, etc. (At least I had the foresight to put down thick quilted crib pads for us to sleep on at the time just in case of accidents like that.)
It had a nice memory foam topper and my ex wanted me to save it for him (lol, sorry. no. That is the one spiteful thing- I do not give a FUCK how much you wanted that foam topper, the bed was the platonic item of betrayal in our entire relationship, go FUCK yourself, you're lucky I didn't just come up here and take an axe to the goddamn thing) I thought about dragging it out to the desert somewhere and burning it out of spite while dancing around it naked or some shit, lol. But in the end, I just took off the cover and washed it, did my best to smudge/cleanse/febreze the whole thing, and when I was satisfied it was clean enough/retained nothing besides the sad memories in my mind, I sold it, and the new owner was very happy to have it in his new apartment.
That was necessary for me. The absence of that bed gave me untold peace of mind.
I've been sleeping on my landlord's bed in the guest room ever since.
He doesn't mind. He's cool like that.
I was prepared to accept Mr. Man's nice bed because 1. it was so damn expensive and 2. he really spoke of it as "my bed", not "our bed", ... and also 3. their relationship-ending drama was not anywhere near as 'sick' as mine, it was just normal dissent. But I think he felt there was a lot of sexual deprivation and sadness in that bed with her too, so in the end I think he took a spiritual cue from me, and decided not to bring it here, after all.
I would have supported/accepted his decision either way, but... I am touched at his choice.
I dunno why I'm spending so many words on this.
I guess it's a little bigger deal to me than I wanted to admit.
So yeah. No knock-down drag out fights from the ex-wife yet. Like I said, she's got to have some inkling that he is getting laid, probably by me, because of the bed thing, and because he said she even mentioned to him that he seems calmer.
though I don't know if she realizes how together-together we are. This is not just fuck-buddy status. It's scary how fast it has become comfortable to have him in my life. Strangely somehow I feel like we both are just most comfortable living in this sort of... married-type partner pattern. (Side note: REALLY WTF OMG HOW DID THIS EVEN HAPPEN I CAN'T EVEN-) We're like... both taking to this domestic bliss thing like fish to water. We've fast forwarded like 3 years worth of relationship in like, 3 months, somehow. It's... scary. I guess we both produce a lot of oxytocin? Maybe that's the only thing keeping me from running screaming. That and... Goddammit I'm just tired of being alone! So, so tired of that shit. Alone, for like 10 years. Alone, WITH someone who professed to love me. Alone, after he got himself into dumbshit and taken away to prison. I've eaten alone, slept alone, gone to movies alone, worked alone, built my nightlife career alone, lost my sex drive because I was monogamous and faithful and there was no other way to manage my own utter sexual loneliness, I mean... is it okay? Isn't it okay to be my turn now? I can haz companionship? Is that okay?
As for him, he was already in a "family mood" for like the last 4 years, and he just needed a partner who had a more natural connection with him. So maybe I'm kind of a replacement but... We're not gettin' any younger. He doesn't have to disrupt his partnership patterns all that much- now he just gets appreciated and reciprocated.
And now I get the same.
I guess I'm... unable to come up with a good reason why this is a problem, even if it's a little unorthodox.
Like, it's has the markers of being kind of a scary thing, but then you look at it and you're like, "wait, but ya'll's fucked-upness meshes like gears, those are all the reasons it works just fine."
So.
*shrug* ehhh?
I'mma just go with it.
I feel like his... "invasion" of my life, lol... It's a good kinda stretch, like when he's really hard and first slides into me and it's too tight and it hurts a little, but then my body gets used to the idea and makes all this nice wetness and I stretch to fit him and pretty soon we have a nice 'n smooth fucking rhythm? And what I thought was going to hurt at first, really turns out to fit like a snug glove. LOL *blush* sorry for the graphic analogy but I feel like our whole life together is kind of built like that.
Uhm, this morning in our afterglow we were even talking about having children. Mostly because I hit a point last night when we were banging and I ...might have blurted out something about how I wanted to feel him cum inside me... and he acknowledged it but in the end we got busy with other positions and he didn't, but this morning, we were continuing our lovemaking, and he brought it up again and asked me if I really wanted him to. And the answer is, yeah, I really do because I love the feeling of it, and you know as close as I was to my ex, we never did. I've really missed that... ultimate intimacy. (and of course I'm on the pill now so it shouldn't be a huge worry) but...
Yyyyeah.
On the other hand, when I'm not flooded with sex brain chemicals and can think a little more "sober", I'm... more than a little scared about... tempting fate. I mean, talking about it this morning, we agreed we aren't in any position to have kids right away. We're not financially stable yet, and I still have career stuff I want to do first. But he told me, if I do get pregnant, that he would not want me to have an abortion. And when I told him I felt ill-equipped to raise children he laughed, and said, "what? No, you'd be a great mother. You're good with kids." Then he was silent for a moment and murmured, "...You're good with my kids."
It's true, his baby girls are sweet and I get along with them just fine. And I do like kids and I've always been a good big sister, babysitter, etc. ...I'm sure, if kids come into my life, I'll do the best I can by them. And he's a good daddy, and I could actually see myself having kids with him. Uhm. Actually, no, it's more than that. I... god help me but I actually... kind of ... ok I find myself weirdly... *wanting* to have kids with him. (GAH omg knock on wood throw salt over shoulder fuckfuckfuck nope with a side of no... right? Right self? We're all agreed? with the ix-nay on the abymaking-bay? What the- you're not even fighting this, are you? YOU LISTEN TO ME, SELF, WE AIN'T GOT TIME FO' DIS SHIZZLE RIGHT NOW. HAVE YOU LOST YOUR GOT-DAMN MIND?)
*sigh*
Maybe...
We already had the "How do you feel about me being a stepmom to your kids?" convo (answer: He is cool with it/trusts me). But it just always seemed like children were something that happened to other people, not me. Never me, for some reason. I just figured I'd have my career and die an old maid, or something. lol.
Shit okay I can't sit around and ruminate on this all day. I have to make room in the closets for his clothing when he gets back (he's at his old place right now gathering up stuff to bring here).
We're not making babies. Anytime soon.
We're NOT. Goddammit.
What the actual fuck, self? You are like, brainwashed. That is some good pheromone he is putting off. And sure your biological clock is ticking but you don't have to answer the call right now, you've got time. Jesus Christ get a hold of yourself, woman.
