Shit! It’s been way too long since I’ve sat down and put my thoughts into words. Back in March I thought covid was a fucking joke. Well here we are, almost a year later and still dealing with this bullshit. I hope this entry finds you well and you have not been deeply affected by these crazy times we are in right now.
Let’s catch up. Here are the cliff notes on what’s been going on in my oh so wacky life. In May I finally moved into my own place. I didn’t have much. Shit, I didn’t even take a napkin from my marital home. Some say I should have never left and I certainly should not have left with almost nothing. I took his Weber grill though, ha! I thought, and still do think, I was doing the right thing for my kids. My hope was to not disrupt their lives as much as I could.
I furnished this bitch with the little bit of funds I managed to save since going out or doing anything was not an option due to The Covid. Ha! I ordered what could online. Well whatever was available after every other asshole bought up shit like it was armageddon. I also hopped on Facebook Market Place and found a shitton of stuff. The house I live in was built in 1807 – so it’s a tad old. I found a lot of items online that go well in this granny of a house. But she is beautiful. Perks to this old gal…I’m super close to Mr. and I live in a cute town that is within walking distance to shops and restaurants. Sweet deal, eh?
I moved, furnished a home, managed to keep my full-time job, support myself with a little bit of help from my close friends, and stay somewhat sane during all of this. That does not mean that I did not cry like a baby at times. But I got over quickly. Mr. and I are still a thing. However, I think things have gotten a little deeper…at least for me. One night, shortly after moving into my own place, Mr. came over for some fuckery. During our fun fuck session, I was on top, putting some miles on the infinity (dick). I looked at Mr. and he looked back at me. These looks have been give to each other many times in the past. Typically Mr. would look back at me and ask, “what?”. Then I would respond “nothing”. Knowing damn well there was something I wanted to say. But this time Mr. looked at me and said “I know”. I asked him “what do you know?”. He said “what your eyes are telling me”. Can we just take a minute and appreciate his sweetness? Like holy hell… is that a line from a movie or what? If that doesn’t make you feel something your fucking heart is black.
So at this point we stopped fucking, he got up and walked around the other side of the bed to gather his clothes. Who was he kidding, he didn’t give a shit about his clothes. He felt awkward and wanted to change the scene. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. My body was shaking and I couldn’t collect my thoughts. Was this really happening? Did he really just call me out on some serious shit? How the fuck did he know what I was thinking or feeling? I asked him “what are my eyes saying?”. He said, “that you love me. And you’re not allowed to do that”. Pause – remember the rules Mr. gave me, gave us? I will remind you. Rule #7…”Do not get emotionally attached. This is only a fun thing. That also means do not say those three words (I love you) no matter what you really feel”. Did he really try to put a rule on my emotions? I don’t think that is possible. Unfortunately, that’s not how emotions work, right? I looked him in the eyes and said yes Mr. Blah Blah Blah (his full name) I do love you. I. Love. You. There, I said it.
I mean after almost three years of hot, wet, daily fuckery sessions and spending lots of time with him how am I not supposed to feel that way? Am I wrong for feeling this way? We see each other just about every day. Truck therapy has turned into afternoon cocktails at my new place and updating each other on how our day was.
So, what happened next? Well thankfully he didn’t make me feel weird or awkward for expressing how I feel. He obviously already knew. I try really hard not to over use the phrase or over express how I feel. Since then, he has asked me to stop loving him. He thinks he is undeserving of my love…for many reasons. He has not reciprocated the feelings (into words) and I’m ok with that. I didn’t tell him how I feel in hopes he would say it back to me. I know how he feels by his actions, by how he looks at me, how he tucks my hair behind my ear and looks at me before he gives me a kiss and pulls my body close to him. I know (too).
Okay, okay, enough of this serious mushy bullshit. My next blog will be a little more fun and light. Promise. Ha!
Thank you lovely readers for stopping by. Got questions? Maybe a comment or two. Shoot me an email at – foxieredhead@gmail.com and I will try to respond within 48 hours. But hey, no promises. Byyyeeee….for now.
Three beers and the Truth 