best compliment evar

I don't think I even finished the last post I was gonna make here, about the amazing sex we recently where he actually came twice (so... that, uhm, apparently DOES happen. Not a myth. I'm going to ridiculously understate my secret gleeful wonderment here by saying, "wow...huh." Because if I tried to describe what was really going through my mind when I thought we'd had our fun and done only to realize... nope... we could...and should... probably keep going... I... think you would think I am crazypants. or crazyNOpants, as the case may be. *ahem*)

Aaaaaanyway.
THEN there was the uuuhhhaahhhmazing sex we had this morning, which has left me glowing all day, and he's been kissing me with this satisfied smile on his face all day in a way that makes my heart completely melt into a little pool of butter... err, look, I am sorry to all 3 of you who might stumble across this blog in perpetuity... I know it sounds like I'm bragging but that's not my intention really, I just want to honestly record the GOOD in my life as much as I recorded the bad... it deserves at least as much acknowledgement, right? And seriously, look at the like 8...almost 9 years of miserable lonely frustration this blog ALSO describes in the course of my life, and you'll understand where I'm coming from... it's not that I'm prideful about this, I'm just ridiculously, pathetically happy and excited to be actually with a good lover for once in my formerly god-forsaken life.
It's improved everything. My faith in myself, my motivation to make art and music, my ability to be patient and compassionate with others, my spiritual peace... it's not like I'm just some horny slut (okay, okay, I have always been a horny slut I guess, just a very tightly guarded completely celibate, desperately chaste horny slut, who could only occasionally find some ghost of satisfaction in the hidden prison of my own mind, but that's beside the point)... but I mean... I'm... a whole... being. And my sexual chakras have been blocked and neglected for... years. And now... they're unblocked. And I am starting to feel whole again, after feeling so broken and useless for so long. Jesus. To feel rain in this desert... to feel like my normal healthy adult sexual appetite doesn't make me an overly demanding monster... to feel wanted, or... desired... to just... to have someone affectionate and open-minded to feel... 'normal' with... fuck, now this is making me cry.

Dammit, none of this is what I was even trying to write about.
I was compelled to write here because... he left me to go to work, but as he was running out the door, he came in the office to tell me, "You know, I was thinking... Every girl I've ever been with, I've eventually compared her to a car, and decided what kind of model she was..."
I smiled and raised my eyebrows. "Ohh?"
"Yeah," he continued, "You know, like "Annie" (2 exes ago) was a Fiero... People mistake it for a Ferrari, but it's not."
We both laughed...
"And "Maryanne" (recent ex-wife) was like an old Chevy..."
I knew I was next. I held my breath, wondering what he must think of me... All the demons in my head started chattering at once. You're shlubby in your tattered jeans and falling apart sneakers. Frazzled. Colorful and weird- like something with mismatched body panels from a junkyard. You have weird ethnic jewelry hanging off you like some taxi cab driver's tassled Saint Christopher air freshener. You're definitely not like other women/cars, and surely you're not powerful or sleek enough to be something svelte like a Lambo, or cute and tiny and fast like an actual street racer, and not fashionable enough to be a hipster hot rod... you're kind of like that late 90's station wagon- a little heavy, still fairly useful, only slightly cooler than an actual minivan, but requiring more upkeep as you age. Not many people would seriously bother owning you unless they saw your peculiar charms... you're a statistical outlier, to say the least...
All these thoughts ran through my head like a flipbook, and my stomach sank and I grimaced and braced myself for his judgement.
"...but I came to the conclusion that you... you're not a car at all. You're more like... a flying carpet."

REALLY!?!?!?
Fuck. Yes. Right answer. Dingdingding, you are CORRECT, sir!
In fact, I am the happiest, most plush flying carpet you have ever seen!
And you can ride my soft welcoming curves to new adventurous horizons anytime. ^_^ <3


He just seriously made me the happiest girl in this whole town tonight. Can I please marry this guy already?

you've come a long way, baby

I couldn't help it, just wasted a bunch of time reading back through several month's worth of entries related to Mr. Man. Good Lord, how disgustingly cute is the word vomit, huh? Gag me with a spoon. I'm sorry. I read like either some horndog sluttin or some anxiety ridden manic monkey. Thank god pretty much nobody reads this. I only post here when it's shit I can't really talk about to anyone else but I can't keep it in my own head. I swear in real life I appear way more well-adjusted and calm, lol. I believe most humans are that way: convivially boring skins wrapped around intense molten cores of feelings we never talk about.

Anyway, I noticed that over the past several months, I've gone from broken and sort of trying to accept this new relationship into my life and heart, to sort of accepting that it's there, and becoming way more at peace with it.
We've started to pull together and invest in this relationship more. I thought through my issues with leaving this town, and I decided- it doesn't really matter. If he leaves, I'll go too. If he stays, I'll stay. I stopped trying to freak out and overthink it, and decided to just open my mind and heart to wherever the Universe is trying to lead me next. We're off to a good start, with this new phase of my life. I'm digging the 'onward & upward' nature of it. Funny enough, after I calmed down about leaving, he started to seem like he's calmed down about staying. One night I found him crying in the dark in bed over his little girls. I know he's got to miss them terribly. I felt so heartbroken for him. I know he wants them in his life and hopes they might come live with us eventually. I think it has a good possibility of happening. I'm alright with that. I'm starting to have faith that whatever happens, we're gonna be okay.
I don't know. I keep returning to this idea that I'm strong enough now to survive if he leaves me, but at the same time, I... still feel like I need him. I know what sounds like a paradox. But I mean, he's been a great, healing help to my broken heart. I feel like I'm so far away from that shattered girl I was a year ago. I cried cleaning out my closet, because of the painful memories it dredged up.
Now I can handle it without issue, because he came in and found me crying and hugged me till I stopped, and I got over it and realized I was okay, it was going to be okay. I don't have to be so sad anymore. I have a lot of sad memories, but I've put them... like in a padded wooden chest in the back of my mind. I don't have to open it and live surrounded by those feelings anymore.
And I hardly talk to my ex anymore. I've barely written him letters. I feel... on one hand, I feel terrible about abandoning him, but on the other hand... it's ... the only way I could find to move on. And Mr. Man gives me a reason to look toward the future, instead of gazing back at the past in tears. He lets me be in my own headspace and wrestle with my own feelings, but he comforts me.
I know my ex is struggling with clinical depression, medical burden, a shameful criminal record, and the loss of me, and his tearful apologies are almost more than I can bear, when I think of everything we had, everything we lost... it's not in me to be a traitor to true love, and I thought that's what we had, and it's easy to feel that by moving on, I'm somehow betraying promises I made in the past.
But he... asked more of me than he ever had a right to, I gave freely, he abused my innocence, and in the end, he fucked me out of my ability to trust him or keep him as a legitimate part of my life. You don't repay the person who nurses you through cancer by cheating on them... with a 14 year old. How the fuck am I not supposed to feel furiously betrayed by that? How the fuck am I supposed to defend him as a friend, much less a husband? He's lucky I didn't burn every last scrap of his belongings in a bonfire. But I was good, I visited him in jail, I showed up to every court date, I listened to all his remorseful apologies, I gave all his shit back to his family and didn't fuck him out of anything. There was no "cathartic revenge". All I asked was that he simply let me go now. I had swallowed enough pain for him.

And so now here I sit. I should be doing other things, and yet... alone with my thoughts, I can't help but wonder, even now, if I've done the right thing- allowing myself to put that old "true love" to sleep in that padded box in the back of my mind. Shacking up with someone new, someone who makes me... ridiculously, wonderfully happy, and allowing myself to bask in the warmth of that love even though it terrifies me sometimes... because I never imagined I would have it this good. All I've known for so long is how to eat pain, how to make peace, how to sublimate myself so that the rest of the household would stay calm.
Now I don't have to... I don't have to do that anymore.
Is it... so terrible of me, to unscrunch my heart and... let go of the past and... just... embrace the future with foolish abandon?
I don't think there's anything served by being a control freak.
All I am is a collection of cells and space dust and a meta-observer-spark, moving from scene to scene in what we call a "lifetime", absorbing the emotional content and spiritual lessons of each experience... letting some shift my paradigm, and allowing others to fade away.
I think that's all any of us ever are.
And so... I let go. I let go of him, my ex, even though it makes me sad to lose him. He took himself away, really, and I didn't get a say in the matter until it was too late. I really... honestly wish him well- I wish him understanding, inner peace, and if possible, a better life when he gets out of prison... just, far away from me.
And I let go of my attachment to this town- wherever I go, there I'll be. I'll make the best of it, I always do, that's how I roll. And I let go of my fear that Mr. Man won't keep me around, because every time I seem to fall into thinking that, he does something unexpected that proves to me he cosmically belongs as my partner for this next leg of the journey, and I don't know how long that journey will be, but I'm determined to walk it with joy and gratitude.
And I realize without fear of loss, I'm starting to feel stronger than I ever have before.

I remember a shattered version of myself, stumbling around with a death wish, unable to tolerate music, much less human company, too numb to cry, too fucked in the heart to give anyone a smile, nearly dead inside.

And now... I'm totally different... I feel more balanced. More calm. More inspired. Able to create again. I'm able to create again!! you don't even know. I felt so robbed of that when my sexuality got cut off. My deep love, my intimacy core, my root chakra from whence I draw my creative energy... the longer I starved, the less I was capable of. But now, I feel like I can... do anything. just.... yeah. Love makes such a huge difference. I am so full of wonder and gratitude.
I know I keep saying that but... I'm not taking any of this for granted.