Things I want

A new-old friend has asked me several times this last week what I want.  No, not for dinner (the never ending battle, ugh).  But what I, as a person, a single mother of 3 want.  WOW.  I have never thought about it.  But after thinking about it, reflecting, checking my insight and prior (lack) of judgement of people and such, I’ve come to a few thoughts.

1.  I’m very needy. (No, not nerdy).  Since I was in high school at good ol’ SHS, I have had a boyfriend, pretty much lived with one.  I had my first apartment in the Bluff when I was 18, attending WNCC, and my boyfriend (like 4 years older than me), stayed with me most nights.  Then  we split and I moved in with what would be my first ex-husband (yeah, shock, shock for those of you not in the know).  After him, I moved in (then he moved in with me) a co-worker friend with benefits.  After him, I spent three months living on my own, then moved here to the Springs.  Of course, I met Mike the first day I was here, and about two weeks after, we were always together.

 

In that, the last 7.5 years to be exact, I think we got too comfy with one another and lost that need and yearning for one another.  I want that.  I want to be wanted.  To know that when I am with that special someone, it is I that he is thinking of (especially in bed together).  I want those surprise text messages that make me smile.  I want surprise gifts.  I want to be loved and to love back.  I want to smile, truly out of joy and excitement each day.  I want to hold one another like I was in the early years of our marriage all night.  I want to be appreciated and to have someone to appreciate back. 

 

I can honestly say that with each and every relationship I’ve been in, I’ve been true to that one person.  I have barely looked or thought of another man in the last 7.5 years in a way that shouldn’t be done by a married women (well, minus the half naked men on my blog, but for my argument sake, there are half naked women too).

 

I want someone to tell me the truth, not what I want to hear.  If I ask how an outfit is, or how to wear my hair, I want to know what that person really likes and thinks.  And as said in several posts before, I want to grow old with someone, to have stories to share.  I want passion, memories that I can hold and pass on, and cherish each day.

 

But in all this, I also want to be myself.  I’m going out Saturday night, and the last time I can remember going out (besides my recent move trips) was to my RN class party (which I remember a certain someone being an ass to me).  Before that, hmmm, maybe the class party the year before that.   I have forgotten how much I love music, to read, and learn things.  Which is partly due to being in nursing school, you tend to lose all habits besides reading how the bowels make shit.  :0)

 

I am needy.   I do want all these things, and need to convince myself I deserve these things.  I don’t care to be rich, just comfortable, not having to stress over financial issues.  I want my boys to be happy, trusting and loving, and non DESTRUCTIVE (which I’m currently failing at teaching them).  I want to get my Masters in Nursing.  I am smart, excellent at my job (and love it) and I can do it.

 

I go to a therapist to talk things out in Janurary.  Hopefully he or she will help me redirect myself and help me cope and move on.  I do have a life to live.

 

Sadz

So this morning, I had to call and call and call to wake up Mike and the boys, who stayed at his new house.  Me calling in the am to wake him up is normal.  I ended up at his house, pounding on the door, where I could hear the alarm going off inside.  GRR.  So of course the boys were late to school.    I really hate to make them late, but I’m not going to continue to be his Mother and wake him up everyday.  Good thing I smoked a cig (a fag as the Brits call it) before I got there.

But really, it made me sad.  To see that he’s got his own place, which he’s never had since he’s been here.  When we met, he had moved down here from KC to be with his parents (after breaking up with a chick).  We met, and then moved in together.  That was 7.5 years ago. 

It makes me mad that he gave up so easily.  That he was important than the US.  Isn’t that what marriage is about, us and not I?

I know I’m not an easy person to live with.  I’m bossy and very jealous.  He has several (read:  many many many) girls numbers on his phone, and in the past this has caused problems because of my jealousy issues.  I’ve tried to push them out, but how is that fair to me?  I don’t have a list of men that I converse with and text daily.  He says it’s nothing, but when I text him about how things are with the boys or whatever, all I’d get is one word answers.  Where his friends would get full comedic response filled with smiles and ‘muah.’ 

I don’t know what he is wanting.  He says he’s not happy, he’s depressed, stressed,  and needs to figure things out.   I don’t know how moving into a house and living on your own (which you can’t afford) is going to help.

He wants me to be his best friend.  That’s like asking a MADD parent to go to the drunk driver for consoling.  Please.   He’ll ask me if I’m ok, and all I can say is sure.  If he won’t share his feelings with me, why should I share?  He obviously does not want to be a part of THAT kind of relationship (MARRIED).

I hate that the boys think it’s cool to be at their Dad’s house.  Like it’s the FUN place to be, and my house isn’t.  I hope it’s the novelty of it all.  When they say that, it makes me feel even lonelier than I already am.

He says there isn’t anyone else, and there never has been.  But reading text messages about the size of his dick, using condoms because she’s not on the pill and such from a girl let me believe otherwise.  Really.  So you say she’s just running her mouth.  Ok, that may be a conversation I have with a girlfriend, but not another guy.   Gimme a break.

I hate to think that if I want to grow old with someone that I have to go date.  Who the fuck wants to date a twice married woman of three boys with stretch marks from here to there?  Really now.  You say that I’m beautiful and someone will love me (which makes me think that you are 100% done), and when I say ‘well YOU don’t’ , you have no response, which makes me believe that you absolutely don’t love me anymore.  Despite me asking what I did to make you feel this way, you have no answer.

I have encouraged you, since the passing of your Father, to seek counseling, to talk to someone else.  To get on some medication.  Time after time you declined and declined.

I have never been down on you for your mishaps.  I’ve always encouraged you in every job, and even offered for you to just go to school, or even finish your PGA license shit.  Nothing is ever good enough for you, you always need more and better.  It wasn’t good enough that you had a nice boat.  You had to have the fancy speakers on it.  It wasn’t enough that you had a good bike, you needed a new cover, a new helmet, a new jacket, and so on.  You couldn’t have a car, without adding tint, rims and who knows what else.  But I never denied you these things.  I never complained when you told me that “Dustin” let you borrow the bike rack thing, when in fact I saw the $184 bill for it.  I never complained when you showed up with the new $60 xBox game.  You really can’t say that I denied you any needs.

At least one thing we did good was sex.  It was always awesome.  But you can’t have a relationship based on just sex.

I’m sorry I’m saying this things out here.  But I have no one else.  I don’t want to burden my friends with my drama, and my parents don’t care for you and want me to just move there right now, so I can’t tell them, because they’d come drag me home.  I had to let it out some place.

 

Stuff

I’m giving him the living room furniture and the bed.  Tomorrow my new stuff is being delivered.  Here’s the living room set (minus the table):

 

Achy Breaky Heart

 

Yes, your heart can ache.

 

 

Growing Old

I see these sweet little old people at work, one is the patient and the other is the spouse, who is eagerly waiting at the bedside.  They always have great stories to tell of their many years together.  Full of children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren.  They’ve been married for years, 40, 50, 60 and more ~ which is unheard of for today’s modern times.  Sometimes they get to go home together, other times they don’t, but are eternally thankful for the many years they had together.

That’s all I wanted.  Someone to grow old with, to have stories to tell others.  I never thought, that I’d be a 31 year old single Mother of three young boys.

 

………..

So Mike and I are separating.  He’s moving out this weekend.  I have many thoughts and feelings that I wanted to blog about, but needed to preface them with this info.  Any advice my dear readers have would be great to have.  Thanks all!