Last night was a pretty ugly night. I have tried to write this out a few times already and just end up erasing it within two minutes; I can't seem to get the words out of my mind and into this little frame. About the only thing I've kept with all my erasing and rewriting is "last night was a pretty ugly night." I guess I should start at the beginning.
Like most females, I have my insecurities. I know I am not mind blowing beautiful, although I do love my hair. It's a rich coffee brown color with some deep blue streaks. The way the brown and blue contrast it makes my hair appear black. I love my hair. But I digress. I know I'm not mind blowing in any way. No I am more of an average beauty which is fine with me. And I do have a few things that consume more of my attention then they should which cause me to doubt myself. (I am sure having a father who cheats on your mother for the thirteen years of their marriage does nothing positive in quelling my doubts either.) So there you have it, I’m an average looking lady with a few doubts about herself. But I have done a pretty damn good job not letting my doubts rule my life, until last night that is.
All week I have been quite literally throwing myself at him. This is far from typical behavior for me, normal behavior for me is closer to subtlety but I love him and wanted nothing more than to share myself with him all week. Ok so maybe I needed a certain itch scratched too. ;~P Over the past eleven years he has never rejected me though. Whether I made little passes, suggestions, offers, shit I just had to come out of the shower and he would be there asking if I wanted to. And as annoying as that could sometimes be, I love that about him. He is a physical kind of man. But I am afraid something has changed recently. This is not just my normal doubts working me either.
The first time I simply asked him if he wanted a quickie real quick like and he said no, he was not in the mood. Like I normally would do, I tried to persuade him to get in the mood. He just batted my hands away and said no. Fine, I thought to myself, I have turned him down before so I guessed he was entitled to his off day. That happened around ten in the morning. For the rest of the day the ache I felt, to have him next to me, continued to grow stronger until I finally asked him again before he had to get ready for work that night. No he still did not want to. Um have I mentioned yet I like a challenge? Well I do.
All night while he was at work I sent him explicit text messages, telling him I loved and missed him, where I wished he was and how deeply I wanted to feel him within me. I was dozing off by the time he came home from work and I fully expected him to crawl into bed to give me the relief I needed. But he did not do this; he chose to play on his laptop instead of with me. Now we have discussed on many occasions that I do not like him to wake me for sex simply because my insomnia makes it hard enough for me to fall asleep and to have him wake me up – I am up for the rest of the night. Not that my requests have ever stopped him from waking me up before. In any event, I wasn’t too bothered at the time that he didn’t wake me that morning.
Later that day when I woke him up to eat so he could get ready for work I again offered and was denied. At first I attributed it to him being half asleep. That night was lonely and painful for me, not in the sense that my heart was breaking kind of painful. No this was a pain caused from the throbbing ache to have him and being deprived of him for so long. So the next day I decided to take a shower, shave and primp myself up just before having to wake him up. I was planning on locking the door and waking him up with a little skin-to-skin action. As I came out of the bathroom he was already awake and back at his computer game. Sitting there on the bed, putting lotion on my legs, I told him how I was planning on waking him up and he just chuckled and said he was sorry. That was it. No offer to go ahead with my plans, nothing but him clicking away at the game he was so entranced with. The following night I went in to the room and asked him what he was doing, stupid question I know. He said he was getting ready to go and smoke, did I want to join him. I told him no I wanted to have sex before he had to leave for work. He couldn’t turn me down again, could he? What would your response be?
His was “oh I guess we could do that if you really wanted to.” :~O WTF? If I really wanted to? No asshole I didn’t really want to I just asked you that to see what you would say. I mean seriously! WTF! At this point the doubt started to creep in. I had nothing left to say so I just turned and walked back to the living room. He just couldn’t leave it alone though. I think I would have been ok had he not called me back in that clueless manner of his. Returning to the room I repeated his question to me, “what is wrong?! Are you fucking kidding me?” That grabbed his full attention, somehow my response finally deemed me more important then the fucking game he was playing. I think it would have been wiser though, had he not turned back to look at me with his confused facial expression; seeing that expression was the catalyst to my anger. Trying to dispel the frothy bile rising in my throat I explained to him “I have been nearly begging you to have sex with me for almost a week now and you have done nothing but shoot me down. What the hell do you think is wrong? I am sorry but I have to draw the line somewhere and I chose to draw it at begging. If you don’t want to fuck me fine, but I will not beg you for it!” With that I turned around and went back to the living room where I clicked Desperate Housewives back on. As desperately as I tried to avoid it, the dam broke and my tears spewed forth.
I did not want him to see me crying so when he finally came out of the room to go smoke and again asked if I wanted to join him I just stared at the television screen shaking my head no. He went out, smoked, came back in and kissed the top of my head, said he’d be back in the morning and left. No apology, explanation, nothing; he just left. There I sat stewing in my anger, pity and doubt until I could not handle it any longer.
Grabbing my cell I clicked out a message to him asking him one simple thing, just tell me what it was that first attracted him to me. I do not know why I needed to know that, I just had to know. After waiting what felt like three hours I succumbed to my doubts as they gnawed away at me like the waves crashing against the shoreline. This time the text I pushed out was full of the doubt I had inside me. I asked him straight out if he had recently met someone else. There I sat and bawled. A dread has taken hold of me and it won’t let go. He called within a minute to try and reassure me there was no one else; he could not just text me when he was working (which by the way he has done numerous times before). I don’t know what else he said because the sobs were racking my body and I could not stand to hear his angry voice any longer so I snapped the cell shut.
I spent the rest of the night drinking, smoking, stewing and crying. Close to when I knew he would be getting home I jumped into bed so I could at least pretend to be asleep when he got home. I wanted to be alone in my misery. This morning however he came home, showered and decided now he was going to make love to me. I could not believe he chose now to try and take me up on my many offers. Now when I was half asleep, had accused him of meeting someone else, was pissed off and hurt; now he chose to try and screw my brains out.
I DO NOT THINK SO!
You see he claimed he did not wake me that first night because I have told him not to before, when I threw it in his face that that had never stopped him in the past he had no response at all. So for him to come home after everything that had already transpired and try to wake me up for some hankie-panky just made me more mad especially since he could not find it in himself to wake me the other morning. I shoved his hands off my body and told him I was pissed at him, rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. I should have known better. He calmly got out of bed, turned on his laptop and proceeded to play his stupid game.
It is now twelve hours later and we still have not talked about anything. At this point I don’t know what good talking would do. The doubt has me in its grip and won’t let go. I feel like I am waiting for the shoe to drop. It is making me angrier with him and myself. I do not want to stick around and wait to have him shatter my heart to bits, but I cannot just walk away. We have too much invested to just leave.
I want to curl up in a ball on my bed for the rest of my life.
I think the depression might be coming back.
Like most females, I have my insecurities. I know I am not mind blowing beautiful, although I do love my hair. It's a rich coffee brown color with some deep blue streaks. The way the brown and blue contrast it makes my hair appear black. I love my hair. But I digress. I know I'm not mind blowing in any way. No I am more of an average beauty which is fine with me. And I do have a few things that consume more of my attention then they should which cause me to doubt myself. (I am sure having a father who cheats on your mother for the thirteen years of their marriage does nothing positive in quelling my doubts either.) So there you have it, I’m an average looking lady with a few doubts about herself. But I have done a pretty damn good job not letting my doubts rule my life, until last night that is.
All week I have been quite literally throwing myself at him. This is far from typical behavior for me, normal behavior for me is closer to subtlety but I love him and wanted nothing more than to share myself with him all week. Ok so maybe I needed a certain itch scratched too. ;~P Over the past eleven years he has never rejected me though. Whether I made little passes, suggestions, offers, shit I just had to come out of the shower and he would be there asking if I wanted to. And as annoying as that could sometimes be, I love that about him. He is a physical kind of man. But I am afraid something has changed recently. This is not just my normal doubts working me either.
The first time I simply asked him if he wanted a quickie real quick like and he said no, he was not in the mood. Like I normally would do, I tried to persuade him to get in the mood. He just batted my hands away and said no. Fine, I thought to myself, I have turned him down before so I guessed he was entitled to his off day. That happened around ten in the morning. For the rest of the day the ache I felt, to have him next to me, continued to grow stronger until I finally asked him again before he had to get ready for work that night. No he still did not want to. Um have I mentioned yet I like a challenge? Well I do.
All night while he was at work I sent him explicit text messages, telling him I loved and missed him, where I wished he was and how deeply I wanted to feel him within me. I was dozing off by the time he came home from work and I fully expected him to crawl into bed to give me the relief I needed. But he did not do this; he chose to play on his laptop instead of with me. Now we have discussed on many occasions that I do not like him to wake me for sex simply because my insomnia makes it hard enough for me to fall asleep and to have him wake me up – I am up for the rest of the night. Not that my requests have ever stopped him from waking me up before. In any event, I wasn’t too bothered at the time that he didn’t wake me that morning.
Later that day when I woke him up to eat so he could get ready for work I again offered and was denied. At first I attributed it to him being half asleep. That night was lonely and painful for me, not in the sense that my heart was breaking kind of painful. No this was a pain caused from the throbbing ache to have him and being deprived of him for so long. So the next day I decided to take a shower, shave and primp myself up just before having to wake him up. I was planning on locking the door and waking him up with a little skin-to-skin action. As I came out of the bathroom he was already awake and back at his computer game. Sitting there on the bed, putting lotion on my legs, I told him how I was planning on waking him up and he just chuckled and said he was sorry. That was it. No offer to go ahead with my plans, nothing but him clicking away at the game he was so entranced with. The following night I went in to the room and asked him what he was doing, stupid question I know. He said he was getting ready to go and smoke, did I want to join him. I told him no I wanted to have sex before he had to leave for work. He couldn’t turn me down again, could he? What would your response be?
His was “oh I guess we could do that if you really wanted to.” :~O WTF? If I really wanted to? No asshole I didn’t really want to I just asked you that to see what you would say. I mean seriously! WTF! At this point the doubt started to creep in. I had nothing left to say so I just turned and walked back to the living room. He just couldn’t leave it alone though. I think I would have been ok had he not called me back in that clueless manner of his. Returning to the room I repeated his question to me, “what is wrong?! Are you fucking kidding me?” That grabbed his full attention, somehow my response finally deemed me more important then the fucking game he was playing. I think it would have been wiser though, had he not turned back to look at me with his confused facial expression; seeing that expression was the catalyst to my anger. Trying to dispel the frothy bile rising in my throat I explained to him “I have been nearly begging you to have sex with me for almost a week now and you have done nothing but shoot me down. What the hell do you think is wrong? I am sorry but I have to draw the line somewhere and I chose to draw it at begging. If you don’t want to fuck me fine, but I will not beg you for it!” With that I turned around and went back to the living room where I clicked Desperate Housewives back on. As desperately as I tried to avoid it, the dam broke and my tears spewed forth.
I did not want him to see me crying so when he finally came out of the room to go smoke and again asked if I wanted to join him I just stared at the television screen shaking my head no. He went out, smoked, came back in and kissed the top of my head, said he’d be back in the morning and left. No apology, explanation, nothing; he just left. There I sat stewing in my anger, pity and doubt until I could not handle it any longer.
Grabbing my cell I clicked out a message to him asking him one simple thing, just tell me what it was that first attracted him to me. I do not know why I needed to know that, I just had to know. After waiting what felt like three hours I succumbed to my doubts as they gnawed away at me like the waves crashing against the shoreline. This time the text I pushed out was full of the doubt I had inside me. I asked him straight out if he had recently met someone else. There I sat and bawled. A dread has taken hold of me and it won’t let go. He called within a minute to try and reassure me there was no one else; he could not just text me when he was working (which by the way he has done numerous times before). I don’t know what else he said because the sobs were racking my body and I could not stand to hear his angry voice any longer so I snapped the cell shut.
I spent the rest of the night drinking, smoking, stewing and crying. Close to when I knew he would be getting home I jumped into bed so I could at least pretend to be asleep when he got home. I wanted to be alone in my misery. This morning however he came home, showered and decided now he was going to make love to me. I could not believe he chose now to try and take me up on my many offers. Now when I was half asleep, had accused him of meeting someone else, was pissed off and hurt; now he chose to try and screw my brains out.
I DO NOT THINK SO!
You see he claimed he did not wake me that first night because I have told him not to before, when I threw it in his face that that had never stopped him in the past he had no response at all. So for him to come home after everything that had already transpired and try to wake me up for some hankie-panky just made me more mad especially since he could not find it in himself to wake me the other morning. I shoved his hands off my body and told him I was pissed at him, rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. I should have known better. He calmly got out of bed, turned on his laptop and proceeded to play his stupid game.
It is now twelve hours later and we still have not talked about anything. At this point I don’t know what good talking would do. The doubt has me in its grip and won’t let go. I feel like I am waiting for the shoe to drop. It is making me angrier with him and myself. I do not want to stick around and wait to have him shatter my heart to bits, but I cannot just walk away. We have too much invested to just leave.
I want to curl up in a ball on my bed for the rest of my life.
I think the depression might be coming back.
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