I hope you are still married, I still am. After a WHOLE SIX MONTHS… oOohh.. I know. A Pathetic amount of time, and I am already complaining. As you experienced married people know, it’s full of happy times and truly miserable times, and as most of you successful Still married couples know, the first year is the hardest. Or so I hear. Which made me feel a whole lot better.
I have been writing some notes for my own sanity, and I thought I’d put some out there. And since -until now, they are all higgeldy piggeldy poo, I will just paste the shit in here and you can feel free to read it until you get bored and click the hell out of here. Or if you do find it entertaining somehow and you want to comment on my sanity or bitchyness, feel free.
As we were both feeling ready to go to sleep, My husband came up with his cheesy line of; “Is there anything I can do for you Baby?” And I’m sort of laughing, feeling way too tired for sex. But then I feel like I’ve been a bit too rejective lately, and that maybe if I push myself back into it, my sex drive would come back. To be fair the past three days have been GREAT, sex wise. But before that it was a week or two without an orgasm for me, and my period with no sex, and none of him going down on me, until I mentioned it. It’s very hard for me to ask for someone to go down on me when I already feel self-conscious about my vagina. I think it’s ugly, and something is weird about it nowadays. It has sort of spots, or bumps on there that aren’t spots or zits… It makes me worry about cancer and other scary diseases and I sleep poorly because of anxiety. My husband thought that they were just ingrown hairs or something and recommended me to outgrow my pubes, and he has been very sweet about it. I look down at my pussy and I don’t like what I see. The colours of my pubes are not a nice colour. But anyway, back to the story. I start touching him and putting lube on his dick as I can see him being tired and just wanting a quickie. He is more sensitive than usual, it’s happened before and it makes me feel like I’m not in control and I’ve got to be careful with my moves, when I usually feel so confident and great at it. He tells me it’s uncomfortable and it tickles etc.. and I can feel myself curling up inside already. But I want to defy it , after some bad reactions, but picking myself up after and insisting on riding him, which he usually loves and especially when he is tired, something still isn’t right, and he tells me to “come here” and I don’t understand where that is. And it’s awkward and weird and I curl up inside even more. Then I ask him to take me from behind because It sometimes allows me to feel more I don’t know, not letting him see my face, getting more animalistic and giving me some moments to gather myself. But for some reason, the way I feel his hands on my ass, it makes me self-conscious and negative thoughts race through my head, I have been so down about my ass lately, and it just took it to hell and back when he commented a month or two ago about a machine at the gym that would make my ass stick out more, like his. I swear I wanted to jump out of the window, I am well aware that my ass isn’t the roundest fullest in the world, yeah it’s broad, but Its not super toned and not super juicy. Sometimes because of my posture and my lower back bone (and simply because of too small gluteus) it even looks flat. And it felt flat, as I was lying there and he was being slightly weird, and I, me letting my thoughts get the best of me somehow thought that he was missing a bigger ass to grab, to lay his hands on, and I asked him if I looked good, and he said a simple “Yes” while I needed more, I asked him to say it, then he said that he didn’t feel like doing the position because he was tired and his dick didn’t work as normal. I immediately got weirder and curled up even more, then we turned around to do our good-old missionary. And he saw it in my face, and asked if I was okay, and me, terribly transparent and selfishly bad at lying said I was fine and tried to grab his dick and keep going. We were moving a bit but he, as he said later thought that my face looked “mopey” and stopped. “I just want to go to bed babe, you don’t feel good about it, and so neither do I, and I’m really tired.” I tried to explain that I just felt bad about myself and that’s why I reacted the way I did, and then he shot me off and said “Well I don’t want to talk about it, I need to go to bed.” He has work in the morning. Then I was like, great. Let’s not solve the problem. So on my way to the toilet to pee, I childishly said, “Fine, I’ll talk to myself about it.” And he asked me to come back, and as I didn’t he started Saying “Fuck, I haven’t got time for this shit, Fuck, fucks sake…” And things like that, the biggest reaction (over reaction) I have seen from him yet. He hit something and It fell over, and I heard a rumble as he kept swearing.. I sat calmly on the toilet trying to cool down, and walked back in after and asked what happened. “Nothing.” I sat down in bed trying to as diplomatically and maturely as possible, solve and go to bed. But he kept saying “Here we go again” and “Now I won’t be able to sleep for another half hour.” And as I reasoned with him and explained my side of the story and half-assedly apologized, he just kept batting me off and saying the same thing. “Now we are going to be talking for like half an hour, like we always do, and I won’t get to sleep.” He said. Then I tried saying, Well, if you keep saying things like that you are gonna upset me and make things worse, when we can solve this in a matter of minutes if we just stick to the actual situation. Eventually he managed to swivel back, and we sort of cleared things up. And I said, lets go to bed, trying to sound content, and we went to bed. I looked at my phone and texted Gwen, in case she was available for a consult. No. My husband went over to the computer and clicked on the mouse, louder than I’ve ever heard anyone fucking click before. Then I forced myself to say something that came up as an instinct, “ Come back to bed, I’ll give you a BJ..?” In a positive tone. He said he needed a few minutes, while he was on his football thing onlie. That was it. The tears fell out of my eyes, and there was no going back, I thought, go to the toilet and think out a plan. I sat on the toilet, and failing to pee I thought, take YOUR computer and sit down and write it all down. And So I did. Then he came over trying to get me back to bed. I rejected him. Wrongly perhaps. But my heart is sore and not wanting to go back to bed to someone who didn’t apologize back, after ALSO being a dick. It wasn’t just me.
(I ended up going back to be with him, as he asked me; “come back to bed baby, please” and I did.)
Saturday 6th of September.
It’s strange how one thing I hear somewhere can trigger a whole long terrible train of thought. The way I think is sometimes so terrible and difficult to steer into a different direction. I am standing in the way of myself so often, and I it’s like I need to talk myself of the ledge every day. Last night I saw a stupid episode of the stupid show Sex In The City. Carrie was in Paris, away from her friends an family with her boyfriend, she had moved all the way there and felt sad. She said to him, I don’t want to walk the streets of Paris alone! I didn’t move here for you to leave alone all the time! I am a person who is looking for love. Ridiculous, All consuming, can’t live without you love. And I don’t think It’s here, in this luxury suite in this fancy hotel, in Beautiful Paris. It’s not your fault. Then that stupid ass character mr. Big, whom which I think is the reason I don’t like this show, shows up later in this ‘meant to be’ kind of scenario. And he cries to her and says, ‘You’re the one’. Just now we were laying in bed watching ‘never been kissed’ with Drew Barrymore whom I love, and Jessica Alba, who ALL guys love, including . After watching this goofy romcom for a while, I said to him, ‘You are the one’ And he smiled. Then I waited. Then Nothing. And I moved away. After a while I said, “am I the one..?” In a half-joking, cutsie and I guess Needy voice. Then he said, and I could tell at this point that he already was annoyed, ‘yes you are the one who.. always needs to hear it.” ASSHOLE. I realized last night that he had never said that to me. And I wanted to hear it. Somehow he has the power to make me truly happy and truly miserable. To be fair, he had just made me some sandwhiches for lunch and I had chewed his ear off. But he did that to make up for offending me right before I went off to an audition this morning, and me being in pain from my period. And he hasn’t really said a word since. About an hour ago. I know he knows but he stubbornly doesn’t want to say anything. And I must be honest, It does make me doubt things. I get worried. I worry a lot. And I guess I need affirmation too much too. I’m not sure how to address this. But I am glad that we are going to councelling. We can get tools to improve our days and communication, and possibly even figure things out before it’s too late.
7th of September.
What a fool I was to think that we would spend this Sunday evening together. He got up at 7 to watch the first Patriots game, after only a few hours of sleep. He watched football all day until I came home at four, then declared that he was going to sleep at around 6-7. I said that he should try and stay awake till ten. But he protested pretty cynically, and I mentioned that I thought we were going to spend the night together getting desserts and watching a movie. Nothing mattered. He tried to comfort me sweetly after the terrible day I had at the theatre, totally oblivious to the fact that he upset me by disappointing the SHIT out of me. Coming home, to … after all that. I couldn’t wait, on my way home. Then I came home to that slap in the face. So I’ve spent all night since 6:30 alone, watching documentaries, YouTube videos, reading blogs, writing and eating ice cream, spaghetti, pizza, Nerds, drinking coke and sitting here annoyed at him. Went to the gym for almost 45 minutes. Did some cardio then came back home had a shower and soaked my hair in coconut oil. Put a turban on my head, cleansed my face, brushed my teeth and sat down and watched Monty python till nearing sleep. Then I laid there, with the Harry Potter Audio book on… sleepy… but thoughtful… and started to cry. Where is the romance I crave? Where is the passion? Are we right for each other? What does he want? Why doesn’t he want to spend more time with me? I HATE sounding like the cliché wife, but that is what I have ended up with. FUCK MY LIFE> I Hate feeling this way. Taken for granted, naggy, lonely and cliché.
AND NOW WE ARE UP TO SPEED.