Waiting

I didn't do it because I'm no longer afraid of being alone or have stopped thinking about F. I still close my eyes and see F. As quickly as my body yearns for F, his touch, I am equally afraid of F and his threats. It remains complicated.

But I did it. I blocked F's phone number on my cell. I blocked him on social media.

All because he told me to do it. And when I text him the next day and told him I blocked F, he simply replied, "Beautiful."

Have you ever felt like you've been waiting for something? For someone?

It's been nearly a year since I e-mailed him; forced myself to write a quick e-mail two days after I woke up sobbing from a horrific dream. I sent it to his work e-mail, figuring it was the safest route. There had been no communication since his wedding day, except for a quick text on my 40th birthday, and I didn't want to cause any issues.

His wedding day was bittersweet. I was truly happy for him, but I knew things wouldn't be the same anymore. His bride seemed to be the kind of woman that wouldn't allow her husband to have female friendships, even if they'd been friends since they were 15 years old. He looked happy, so I was happy for him, but I was also a little sad.

There's never been a doubt we have a strong connection. Others have commented on it after seeing us interact. I was always a little apprehensive about those comments because it hadn't been easy and had taken a lot of work to get to a comfortable place with one another. He hurt me. I hurt him. Sometimes it felt we'd never break the pattern and any suggestions of something more than friendship between us jeopardized this bond.

I had already been with F for a year when he started dating his future bride. And although cracks had started to form in my relationship with F, when he married her the following year, we were still happy. Truthfully, we hadn't seen much of each other since I started with F and I only met his wife briefly at an event when they started dating. I know that if F had ever seen me and him together, our friendship would have ended long before he got married and my relationship with F would have cracked long before it did.

Nearly five years after his wedding, that dream scared me. He was there with his wife. I was there. There was a fight, a horrible car accident. I was screaming, crying, and I woke up in tears. I just needed to know he was OK. We exchanged a few e-mails catching each other up and that's when I learned he was going through a divorce. Since the initial e-mail, there have been random texts here and there, months apart, but that's it.

He spent New Years in Mexico and when he got back last week, he received the Christmas and birthday cards I sent, so he text me to thank me and asked if I was available for dinner. He was going to be in the area.

We talked about his trip, me resigning from my position and after a while, I finally asked why he got a divorce. It turns out he and I had more in common than anyone could have guessed. I turned away, said I understood and then I told him about F. I even told him about the tattoo and how he text me on Christmas Eve. I didn't mean to tell him everything.

When he asked why I hadn't blocked F's number. I looked away again. It was complicated.

He said F was like a cancer and I needed to cut him out. He said I needed to block his number. I did so that night.

No matter what we went through, the distance, the arguments, the hurt, his opinion matters and affects me the most. It always has.

I don't kid myself. I remember the look in his eye when we were having dinner years ago, discussing the relationship I was in with a former classmate, and he realized our former classmate had seen me naked and was still interested in me. That was the night I realized why he would never love me. Why I was never good enough for him. 

I know that at one time, I meant a lot to him. He told me. He told me I was special to him. He told me he didn't want to lose me. He just couldn't love me the way you're supposed to love a woman. And until that night, I didn't know why. It took a lot to push that knowledge, that understanding down and just accept how things were between us.

If I didn't block F's number, if I continued the back and forth with F, it would be another disappointment in his eyes, another reason why I wasn't good enough. There are already so many reasons he couldn't love me; I couldn't bear another.

For years I've told myself that we only looked good on paper, in the real world, we were incompatible. Besides, when I loved him, I was so innocent. I didn't think about kissing him or having sex with him. I could close my eyes and see our future together, our home, our kids, but I never fantasized sexually about him. And even when we finally settled into an easy comfort with each other, there were never any sexual stirrings within me.

I realized something the other night. In the past 20 years, with all the dinners and nights out, sharing desserts and snacks, attending events, the photos and selfies; we haven't touched each other. I remember an awkward hug when I came home for Christmas junior year of college, but did I even hug him on his wedding day?

Now all I can think about is what his fingers on my skin would feel like...wonder if I would feel anything with just a simple hug or touch.

Is this what I've been waiting for all this time?

Ownership

"Tall, dark and muscled like a god, Beau Barnett is great with an axe. Every woman in Rockhead Point wants a taste of the mountain man. Including me. Except he doesn’t even know my name. I’m just the girl behind the counter filling his coffee, while he grunts and grumbles, barely making eye contact. Then a newcomer with a charming smile and a fancy suit shows up in Rockhead Point, and refuses to take no for an answer when he asks me to dinner. That’s when I find out Mr. Mountain Man not only knows my name… he thinks I’m his property."

After reading the above description, plus the fact I could read it for free on the Kindle app with Prime Reading, I downloaded and started reading Property of The Mountain Man by Gemma Weir. I was expecting a deliciously sexy romance novel with a few explicit scenes that I hope would stir something within me. My very first "romance" novel was Granite Man by Elizabeth Lowell when I was a teen and the description of this new protagonist was similar to my beloved granite man that, to this day, still stirs something within, so it should have been a score for the mountain man.

Unfortunately, there were just so many things about the book, the story, the characters, that I found so appalling, and all I could think about was me and my ex; my abusive ex. Quite frankly, this was a toxic, super unhealthy relationship - if you could even call it that - and all I wanted was for her to run away from the mountain man.

First of, I'd just like to say that romance novels have taken it to a whole other level. ...Mountain Man has 22 chapters and it's only the first 2 1/2 chapters that don't contain explicit scenes. In 16 chapters, Granite Man has a total of 3 1/2 explicit scenes (the 1/2 is only because he references taking her in the pool, but we don't actually "experience" it like the others). For the amount of explicit scenes in ...Mountain Man, I used to have to read books actually designated as "erotica." Look, I'm no prude. I am a sexual person. I enjoy erotica. I enjoy porn. I have a very active imagination. This is not a knock on this book, I just wasn't expecting it. But considering the circumstances, I think it was excessive.

Issue #1

The age difference. She's 21 and he's 43. I personally, as a 43 year old woman, cannot see myself with a 21 year old; not even as a fling. Heck, it's icky for me to think about anyone near my brother's age...yuck! I could have probably gotten past the age difference here if it hadn't been for the fact that the female protagonist admits she's had a crush on him since she first laid eyes on him when she was 13 years old. T-H-I-R-T-E-E-N years old! So he was already 35! And she's been fantasizing about him this entire time.

I was a teenage girl once and teenage girls are stupid and we think we know everything when we really know nothing. I speak from experience. The summer before I turned 15, my mom had opened a second bakery in a relatively quiet neighborhood, not far from two of my uncles' homes, and I spent the break before school working there, by myself. My uncles would drop by when they got home from work and I would usually hang out at one of their houses after closing up waiting for my mom to pick me up, but for the most part, I spent the entire day there, on my own; a fourteen year old completely alone. Next door was a karate studio and I thought one of the instructors was so cute. I would stand at the counter looking out the large panel windows, waiting to see his car turn the corner and come into the plaza parking area. I was still relatively innocent then, so all I really fantasized about was him kissing me, and I would swoon. He must have been at least 30 years old and me, a 14 year old, was daydreaming about making out with him. Teenage girls are stupid. I don't want to think about what could have happened if I hadn't been as innocent as I was, or if he hadn't known better.

Not only did she have a crush on a grown man as a teenager, he even tells her that he basically waited for her to turn 21 (she hasn't been 21 for very long). He had been "stalking" her for a year and it's not until now that he realizes why; he'd been waiting for her and she was too young before.

Issue #2

Well she's still too friggin' young! He is a very experienced man, very experienced. Not only was she a virgin, she had absolutely no experience with men - no dating, no boyfriends - and he pretty much pounces on her. He doesn't court her. He doesn't take her out. He sees her harmlessly flirting with an out-of-towner and it drives him insane and that's when he realizes he wants her. When he does realize it, it's not, "oh, I like her, I'd like to take her out and get to know her." No, it's, "SHE'S MINE!" She belongs to him and no one else can have her.

He immediately sets about claiming her, marking his territory. They don't even go out. She doesn't even get a say in it. He's decided that she's his and that's that. Immediately he takes her to his home and basically uses sex to manipulate her and to try control her.

Issue #3

This all takes place within a week. He says she belongs to him, finds out she's a virgin, basically makes her sleep at his house every night, fucks her the second night, and by the end of the week, she says yes to marrying her.

Issue #4

Don't get me started on her dad and brother. Well, at least her brother, who is the same age as the mountain man, tries to intervene and tell her she shouldn't be involved with a man old enough to be her father, but they have such a distant relationship that she tells him he has no right to tell her how to live her life. Her dad, basically lets him just cart her away to his house saying they have to work it out. Ugh.

This all set off so many warnings inside me. The mountain man was F claiming me for himself. I mean, the mountain man doesn't even let her have a girls night with her friend; he shows up and hides in a booth until a guy tries to dance with her and then he flips out and throws the guy across the room. F never let me go out. It got to the point where even going out with family wasn't allowed.

I don't know why I kept reading. I told myself to stop, but I kept going. I kept hoping that either he would change in a way that F never did, or that she'd get away from him somehow. That never happened and I just kept thinking, "no, no, no."

"...This book contains an over the top, jealous, unreasonable, possessive asshole.

If you consider unapologetic alphaholes unacceptable, or feel their behavior is in someway abusive, then this isn't the book for you.

If, however, like me you love a guy who is so obsessively in love with his girl that he will snarl, demand, punish, and fuck her until she gives herself to him completely, then read on and welcome to the world of my Montana Mountain Men."

As I scrolled back on my Kindle for reference, I saw the above warning printed before the first chapter. I hadn't seen it before. Maybe that warning should have been in the book description.

The behavior is not "someway abusive." It is abusive. I don't have a problem with alpha males or sexually dominant & submissive roles. You can have those in a story without it being abusive. In thinking back to the explicit scenes, if the alpha male wasn't written the way he was, I would have enjoyed those scenes because I am sexually submissive.

I remember the shock in my cousin's eyes when I said I was sexually submissive. She said she could never be weak. But I don't look at it as being weak. Being sexually submissive to F came with a lot of power. I felt powerful with every touch I gave him. I was doing that to him. I was making his body react that way. I drove him crazy and unleashed him. But reading these scenes didn't bring pleasure, just fear, and all I could think about was F.

F wanted to control me outside of the bedroom too; take ownership of me completely. He was claiming me for himself and no one else. I could never be with anyone else; I would always be his. I have the tattoo as a constant reminder of his ownership; it's a shame I live with every day. And if I hadn't been strong enough to say no, I would be a single mom right now because he saw knocking me up as the ultimate form of ownership.

I lived this story and it doesn't end well. I wanted her to run. I didn't want her to stay like I did for so long and end up like me. I live in fear of not being able to refuse him and falling back into him. The sex was that good. And just like the mountain man, F used sex as a weapon; to manipulate and punish me. I lost myself and as much as I've tried to put myself back together, I just feel like I'm damaged, broken.

Maybe that's why "The Spanish Love Deception" resonated so much with me. Now there's an alpha male that wants to protect and take care of his woman; that can sweep in, but knows she can also take care of herself; that wants her to be his just as much as he wants to be hers; and can still be sexually dominant and thoughtful, putting her needs before his. It gives me hope, just a bit of hope that I might be able to put the pieces back together.

Beautiful

I asked him once
If I was beautiful
If he thought I was beautiful

He scolded me for asking
I shouldn’t fish for compliments
Wait for him to give them

He never gave them
Never told me I was beautiful
Or pretty
Or simply just cute

I've never felt beautiful

Never been told I am

Not even by my mother

There've been times I felt cute

Not pretty

Just cute

Sometimes, when my hair is just so

And I somehow feel good

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,

Right?

Can you ever see beauty in yourself

if no one has ever told you

You are beautiful

Even just once

Sadness

Sometimes it’s too much
Overwhelming
This overbearing sadness
 
Will it remain forever?
Deep inside
Unmovable
 
Longing, deep longing
Clawing its way through me
The sadness suffocating
 
Am I broken?
Or just lost?
Was I ever whole?
Or simply good at pretending?
 
Confidence shaken
Walls up
Trust broken
Overcome with fear
 
Is this how it is?
How I’m meant to be?
Pretending to be OK
Always alone
Always unloved
 
Sometimes it’s too much
This overbearing sadness

Overwhelming

Ridiculous

It's been almost a year since things were officially over with F. He text me on Christmas Eve. We argued. Well, he got upset because my response included his name. That led to accusations from both sides of how the other was never going to change. He unfollowed me on IG, wished me luck with my cardmaking and said goodbye.

I hate to admit that I would have easily spread my legs for him if he hadn't reacted the way he did. I still love him. I know I shouldn't, my brain knows I shouldn't, but my heart won't listen.

As we approach two full years of this pandemic, I am so lonely and yearn to be touched. What's worse is I'm afraid I won't ever be fucked the way he fucked me. He was so good at it. He made me feel so good.

And that makes me feel foolish, so foolish. That's what I'm worried about?!? Being well fucked?!?! That's my concern? I really am ridiculous.

F*#&in Exhausted, Part 3

I started writing about my work life, but then I just got tired of reliving it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Who's going to hire the fat girl?"

I am no stranger to the concept of paying your dues. I have always felt my work speaks for itself and whenever I go into a new company, I let my work do the talking. Unfortunately, it is also about the people you know, none more so than in the entertainment industry.

I'm a hard worker and a quick study. I have no problem putting in the work, but I also have no qualms leaving bad situations. I have worked my way up from entry level to director level to even vice president. I have put in the hours and made sacrifices. So many times I've been told, "well, you're not married, you don't have kids, so you can work those hours."

I was brought on as "Vice President of Operations" for a defunct company that was being rebuilt from the ground up. It was shut down for about 2 or 3 years and there were absolutely no processes in place. I was part of the interview process for the company that built our system, I worked hand in hand with them to build it; it was my design. I designed all the project paperwork (instructions, forms, etc.). Some of the data engineers were in Indonesia, so I would be up in the middle of the night working with them. I set up the phones and computers in the office and did our tech support. The VP and President above me were just figureheads, brought on for their connections to the industry. I am not overstating when I say I was the only one with the experience in this field and the only one that could it. And yet, I was undermined at every step. They put me down to ownership behind my back. Not a day went by that the other VP didn't say that she had a 13 year old son and couldn't put in those hours, and yet, would turn around and tell the owner that I was doing everything myself because I was a control freak. Not only was I building the system and getting grief for it, I was under paid. We weren't even ready with main operations when they started other departments and brought in vp's at double my pay. I walked away before the system was finished.

They filed for bankruptcy less than a year after I left. And it was all my fault. Not the fact that they hired people that knew nothing about the business and let the one doing the work walk away. No, I was ungrateful.

I had left quietly. I went radio silent for months. I never told anyone why I left, but the rumors swirled once people realized I was gone. The funny thing was that they couldn't say anything about my work. Instead they said I was ungrateful because ownership had paid for me to have gastric bypass and not only did I gain the weight back, but I didn't pay back ownership. NEVER HAVE I EVER HAD GASTRIC BYPASS SURGERY.

In less than a year, the damage had been done. I had allowed them to rob me of my confidence.

I always have to work twice as hard, while others around me slack off. And it's been either all on my shoulders or...

F*#&in Exhausted, Part 2

In college, I had a new start. I was far away from everyone and everything I knew. I no longer felt tied down to the expectations of my name and reputation. Yes, since junior high and throughout high school there were expectations tied to my name. So many I met admitted they didn't like me because they always heard my name, but upon actually meeting me, surprise, I was a sweet girl and not at all like they thought. Teachers knew my name before I even entered their classroom. I had a lot to live up to.

But no one knew me in college. No one knew my reputation. I finally felt I could be me. I wasn't the uptight, fuddy-duddy in all the advanced classes. I wasn't the teacher's pet. 

When I came home on breaks, it was a different story and I hated coming home. School breaks were full of old drama, expectations and judgements. And when my bff from senior year came back into my life, it all spilled into my college life. I was back to having to prove myself and the life choices I had made. I was supposed to be the same girl that sat behind him in homeroom junior and senior years, the girl that had loved him so much despite her not being loved in return.

Don't Look Back

Didn’t learn the lesson
Kept going back
Tears hidden behind a smiling face
Pain and shame buried deep down
Be strong
Be strong, she whispered to herself
You’re free
Don’t look back

F*#&in Exhausted, Part 1

I have realized that my entire life has been about proving myself and I am tired. No, I am fucking exhausted.

I'm not talking about just with men. In school, personal life, professional life...in EVERYTHING!

Freshman year of high school I took Algebra 2. There were three freshmen in my Algebra 2 class, everyone else were upperclassmen. My Algebra 2 teacher was also the MESA (Mathematics, Engineering and Science Achievement) advisor. The other two freshmen in my class were male students. Our teacher recruited the male students into MESA way before me, even though we all had A's in the class. I wasn't recruited until the end of the school year when I surpassed the entire class for the highest A in the class.

Fast forward to junior year and there are 5 juniors in my AP Calculus class (the rest were seniors). I was the only junior female. I was also President of MESA and taking Physics with seniors because I opted out of taking AP Biology with the rest of my friends. For the annual MESA Day, we took exams in our respective math levels to determine the teams. (*I should mention my school was on a track system, so for my track there were only 5 juniors taking AP Calc and the other tracks also had AP Calc classes with juniors.) The top three scores made up the team. I came in second. I outscored the two male students from my Algebra 2 class; neither of them made the team. The other two that made the team were also juniors and from a different track.

Up until the morning of the MESA Day competition, they were trying to talk me into withdrawing from the team, including our advisor. The Calc exam was hard and when I came out of it saying it was hard, they all said I blew it for the team. But then, when my two male teammates came out saying how hard it was, then suddenly it really was hard. We tied for 2nd place.

Math was my favorite subject and I was an A student. I struggled with Geometry in the 8th grade, but I was still one of the 3 A's in the class. And yet, I always had to prove myself. I was always talked down to. I worked my ass off for MESA, recruited from all the tracks, kept MESA going; made sure our legacy continued, but it still wasn't enough. We all took the same Calc exam to make the team, but somehow I wasn't good enough. It wasn't until the end of senior year, just before graduation, that our MESA advisor told me the best thing he did was recruit me into MESA.

Similarly, my Key Club advisor wasn't thrilled I was elected President for my senior year. The entire classroom had yelled out my name during nominations and I ran uncontested. I had attended almost every single event since the end of my freshman year, had gone to two Key Club conventions and even served as a voting delegate for one of them, but our faculty advisor had doubts about me. He thought I had too much on my plate. My predecessor had had too much on her plate and we had lost our standing. But going into my presidency, I had prepared for this. I hand-picked my successor for MESA and as a senior, all of my classes were scaled back. I didn't have a math nor science anymore and half of my classes were electives needed for graduation that I should have taken in previous years but couldn't because of all of my advance academic courses. 

Just like my MESA advisor, at the end of the year, as we came back from my last Key Club convention, my advisor told me about his reservations when I was first elected, but that he was proud of me: proud of all the work I had done to put our school back on top in the division and that he knew how hard a time I had but had always taken the high road. (My VP hated me. She had wanted to be president, but didn't run against me and instead made the entire year difficult and did her best to humiliate me as much as possible. I never retaliated. And even though I did all the work, I never presented it that way.) I knew I had won over my faculty advisor when we were preparing for convention and the award nominations forms were released. I was a TA in one of the computer classes and he came in to tell me he wanted to nominate me for outstanding president and for me to fill out the forms. LOL.

And this was high school; where I can easily point the finger to when it started...the breakdown of my confidence.

Alone

The tears roll down her cheek
Silent
She cries herself to sleep
Alone
Always alone

He couldn’t even look at her
He wouldn’t even kiss her
Just a look of disgust as her lips approached his
He moved away

Pushed her away

She couldn’t cry in front of him
It would only make it worse
It would only make him mad
 
He was just inside her
But he couldn’t even look at her
He had come inside her
But now he didn’t want to touch her
 
He left her without a word
Without a touch nor kiss
He was angry
But he still fucked her
Only to reject her
 
The tears roll down her cheek
She cries herself to sleep
Alone
Always alone