King Of My Castle?

I had a beautiful day date with Someone New yesterday. This post might get a little slushy. I don’t know. Just a warning. I’ve been beaming ear to ear ever since so it could go either way.

I didn’t want to stay at his. Shark Week has come, plus I’m waiting for a wax… Shaving now would mean cancelling the appointment, and that means waiting another few weeks. It’s hard work being a girl, I swear.

Anyway, we decided on a day date, and had already swapped Tuesday for Thursday. We met in a little historic town not far from where I lived, and we spent the day just walking, and talking, and holding hands. I fell in love with him yesterday. Well, perhaps not fell in love. But I started bumping my way down, put it that way.

He made me go the very top of an old, abandoned castle – a local tourist attraction. We also wandered to the nearby cathedral, holding hands, laughing and kissing as we went around. It sounds cheesy and like something out of a movie, and it was. Like, it really, really was. We had coffee’s sat outside cute little cafe’s, people watching. We judged everyone and anyone that walked past, occasionally taking the piss out of each other, and it was adorable. Like actually adorable.

Sickly sweet stuff aside, we actually talked. Sat outside the various cafe’s we stopped at, drinking our coffee’s and eating our cake’s, we really talked. About stuff that was really important, not just fluff and frivolity.

I told him his “not-wanting” of kids worried me. I think I definitely do want kids, and I think that is something that has been growing more evident throughout the last three years of this blog. It is more than likely going to become a stronger need as time goes on. He told me he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted them. It wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes either. If the right girl came along, he’s sure it’ll all click into place. But what if it doesn’t?

What if we are still here, three or four years down the line, still wondering and waiting? What happens then? When time is starting to run out for me, and my chances of conceiving naturally goes down with every period that passes?

I probably DO want to have kids. I probably DO want to get married again. I thought I could have kids and get married to Jock, so I’m sure that feeling will come again and hopefully, if and when it does, it won’t be with a complete and utter twat. I know we’ve only been dating six months but I’m starting to wonder if maybe Someone New could be something long term. He made it this far, didn’t he? There’s a reason I don’t want to let him go. And I’m glad I didn’t / haven’t. He is starting to become a very important little part of my life. I’m starting to miss him more, and not want to blow him out. I want to see him, even if we can only manage a few hours here and there, and he should have the opportunity to see me more often than once every two or three weeks. That’s hardly fair on him, is it? He deserves better than that.

I want to make him happy. I want him to want me more, not just in the bedroom, but out of it too. I want to be a good girlfriend for him because he is such a good boyfriend to me. I couldn’t ask for anything better. If I have a concern, I can talk to him about it. I even told him about the little jealous patch I had with that girl that liked all his Facebook statuses. Turns out, she’s a long term friend, she has a long-term partner, and he’s been good friends with them BOTH for over ten years. Well, don’t I feel like a twat? A twat yes, but I felt better for talking to him about it. You see – he’s so super approachable. There’s nothing I can’t talk to him about. I’m starting to have a great fondness for the weird, bumpy, often-misunderstood honesty we have with each other. It’s not perfect, but it’s getting there. We are evolving as a couple. It’s actually pretty cool to realise that.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like we are the shittest couple ever and we are changing everything about ourselves to fit together. It’s not like that at all. We are just learning little things about each other, and it’s often the little tweaks that make the difference. I don’t like it when he posts a load of crap on my Facebook wall, for example. I can’t tell if he’s being clingy or marking his territory via social media, but it really pisses me off. I told him that, he stopped doing it, job done.

It’s like that about everything too – not just the Facebook thing. I didn’t like it when he bugged me in the evenings when I was working. He told me last night that he knew I wasn’t always working and he knew I was watching some shitty reality TV show, or playing Call of Duty with Bestie. But he leaves me to it anyway because he knows I need my personal space, and he knows we don’t need to communicate every minute of every day. I told him I didn’t like it when he bugged me, he stopped doing it, job done.

I like to think it works both ways too. For example, I never seem to message him in the morning. In fact, I rarely manage to send him a message before 1/2pm. I didn’t realise that – I’m just not that social first thing in the morning, mostly because I hate the entire world. But it bugged him, and he told me about it and I realised how that must look to him. I realised how selfish I was being. So although I don’t manage it every morning, I do try to send him “Good morning” messages when I remember. I also know I need to get better at that. I know how much that morning message means. Not getting it from ex-boyfriends has ruined my mood for the entire day in past relationships, so I should practice what I preach and work a little harder.

It’s like we’re in a real adult relationship. It’s bonkers. There’s no game playing. There’s no lies. There’s no skeletons in the closet and if there is, they are coming out slowly and gingerly. It’s actually quite nice. I would like to think we’ve both got the major bombshells out the way, and we’re still standing pretty strong. There’s something to be said for that.

Even after telling him I was scared he wasn’t man enough for me, he was still sat there at that table, holding my hand, smiling at me. I know the way words come out of my mouth isn’t always the best way to put things because that’s not really how I meant it, but he gets me every time. He knows what I’m saying. He knows I never mean it as harshly as it sounds. He knows I just meant I wanted him to be more ‘real him’ with me, rather than the well-behaved version he keeps portraying. I want the guy that he keeps telling me about – the guy that falls over, says the wrong thing, and has no social filter. He knows that and he said that. He also has a rebuttal for everything. He’s still getting to know me so he doesn’t want to go all out with the usual pranking, piss-taking behaviour he would normally display. Part of him is still on his best behaviour. In fact, that can be said for both of us, can’t it? He’s only seen a fraction of the personalities I have to offer.

But yesterday, at the top of that castle, when I should have been shitting my pants, fearful for my life (it was really high, the wind was blowing, I was scared I was going to drop my phone…), I wasn’t scared. I was breathless and shaky, but it wasn’t the heights. It was him. I wasn’t scared because I knew he was there, and it was at that point I realised something. He makes me feel safe. The world isn’t such a scary place when he’s in it. I trust him. He’s in. That moment right there, at the top of the castle, I fell in love with him. A little bit anyway.

Ha – maybe I have finally found the King of my castle…? 

King Of My Castle?

The 3 Weirdest Sexual Experiences I’ve Ever Had – Part Three

Have you read Part One and Part Two yet? You might want to go back and read those first! 🙂

The last story I seemed to have a hard time with as I didn’t want to re-mention old stories. Like the guy with the silk boxer shorts that waddled towards me whilst pulling on a condom, and almost suffocated me with his huge, tall body on the couch. Or the Prison Warden guy with this knee-high football socks and THAT awkward threesome.

Gosh I really was a slut. Notice the was though – I’m nothing like that now thankfully. My behaviour back then makes me cringe. I’m just glad social media hadn’t been invented at that point.

I think I’m going to have to go with Number 18 for this one. The Prison Guy.

I don’t really know what happened with this guy. He had just gotten out of prison and was honestly, not an attractive creature. I don’t even know how I met him, although I used to hang around with his girlfriend and we worked together for a while, so I can only assume it was that. Honestly though – she wasn’t all that either and she could have done so much better than this guy. He really was a fucking skank.

He was my friend though, and one night we found ourselves alone in his halfway house that I found myself hanging out in for a spell. I was living with my Grandmother and seriously rebelling I think – drinking too much and smoking too much pot. It wasn’t long before we were stripping and when his pants were removed, I literally stopped dead.

He had no penis. Like, I’m not even kidding. He had NO penis. It was smaller than my little finger ERECT and I have really small hands. It was tiny. And it was no bigger in girth either. Perhaps a tad but not much. I remember trying to close my mouth around it at one point and there was nothing to it, it was impossible to blow!

I don’t actually think we can class what we did as real, actual sex. I’m sure it didn’t even go in far enough to warrant calling it sex. Plus he came real quick. Clearly I was the best thing he’d had in his bed for a while.

I’m not proud of that moment, and I don’t admit it to anyone else. Mostly because she announced she was pregnant the next day, and the day after that he was arrested for robbing my Grandmother’s friend who lived up the road in the middle of the night. I remember hiding his stuff and trying to keep a straight face as I lied to the police about knowing his whereabouts but now I kick myself. He would have robbed my Grandmother in a heartbeat. I don’t know why I helped him, or why I classed him as a friend. I definitely have no idea why I got into bed with him. I can only assume I was rebelling to a very serious degree.

That’s what I’m putting it down to anyway.

I always thought I had no regrets in life and that I learned from every sexual experience but that one is a genuine regret. I’m pretty sure they’re still together and have probably had an estate’s worth of children by now. They deserved each other. They were both skanks. I always knew I was better than that. Except at the time, I wasn’t.

So yeah. Those are what I would class to be my three weirdest, strangest, most bizarre sexual experiences ever. Why don’t you carry on and tell me yours? Link to me – I want to read allllllllll about it.

Seriously though. Not proud of these moments of my life. I’m hanging my head in shame right now. All experience I guess…..

The Weirdest Sexual Experiences I've Ever Had

The 3 Weirdest Sexual Experiences I’ve Ever Had – Part Two

You may remember that I wrote a post a couple of days ago – The 3 Weirdest Sexual Experiences I’ve Ever Had? Well…. This is the second part of it! 🙂

The second weirdest sexual experience I’ve had doesn’t involve a garden shed. I was about the same age however, this time I was single. And didn’t I know it.

Bestie and I lived together in this tiny little apartment that we trashed, quite frankly. We had a Halloween party one night and it was quite the talk of the town. We had covered all the walls of the apartment in black garbage bags, and had scattered fake spiders, glow in the dark silly string, and all manner of other halloweeny-themed decorations around.

I was dressed as a sexy vampire with a corset that tucked my boobs right under my chin. I looked good that night with my high platform boots and the fangs that made me look so much naughtier than normal. My main intention that night was to get laid. That’s why I wore that corset. It made my waist look tiny and my tits look massive. There is no other reason to wear a corset. It’s not like they’re a comfortable item of clothing.

However, my main intention was to get laid. What I didn’t expect was quite as many options…

I had invited a number of people to the party, some of which were ex work colleagues. There was Goth Guy – the Marilyn Manson lookalike with a MASSIVE cock. One of my female friends dated him for a while (I slept with her too – oops), and apparently, he had the biggest cock she had ever seen in her life. I didn’t get that far. We had a few nights where we came pretty close but for some reason, the deed was never done. I don’t know why.

Anyway, by the end of the night, he was naked in my bed, waiting for me to join him. The only problem with this is that there was ALSO the cute, curly-haired guy from work chatting me up in the kitchen, and he clearly thought he was in with a chance too. I needed to make my mind up because the end of the night was getting really close. Plus Bestie was getting annoyed. He knew he’d probably end up having to get rid of the ones I didn’t want for the night. Male best friend duties…? (I’d do the same for him, and have done a few times.)

There was one other guy at the party – a guy whose name I can’t remember, but I invited him because he was my ‘back-up guy’. I knew I could have him if it all fell through with everyone else. Well, he thought he was going to be more than my back-up plan and got really clingy and annoying, so I started with a fight with him just so I could get him to leave.

Just as I was making my mind up, right at the end of the night, The Fireman – the guy mentioned in the first weird sex story, knocked on my door. He had been on a night out himself. One minute we were talking by the front door and the next, he was hanging out the back of me, as I was hanging out my bathroom window. Everyone else was still partying away and getting in the last of the booze before the daylight hours hit, and I was getting fucked in my bathroom. The naked guy was still in my bed, and the curly haired guy was still waiting for me in the kitchen… Right next door to the bathroom.

(The fuck was I thinking?)

I could hear Bestie calling me from the living room so I did what I do best – I ran. The Fireman only lived a little way down the road, so without even grabbing my shoes, we waited until there was no longer anyone in the kitchen, bolted down the stairs, and headed for his where we had a night of what always happens when we get between the sheets – AMAZING sex.

Of course, the morning after the night before was a total nightmare. I didn’t even think to grab my purse before I left, and I didn’t grab a pair of shoes either. He didn’t have any cash on him, so at 8am the next morning, I did the walk of shame pure-tramp style, with no shoes on, a halloween corset tucking my tits under my chin, and last night’s horror makeup smeared all around my face.

I can only imagine it was an attractive look…

But yeah, having that many guys literally panting for me in one house was definitely one of the weirdest experiences I’ve ever had. It’s not one I think I’d like to recreate anytime soon. It still makes me cringe.

I don’t really know what I was thinking back then. I was bullied pretty badly at school so male attention was something that never really came easy for me. That was, of course, until I left school and got my first job where I happened to be surrounded by teenage lads with raging hormones… and I was a pretty little blonde thing who was finding herself sexually. That’s what I blame – finding myself sexually. I guess in reality, I was just a bit of a slut. And why not? Who cares? I used a condom, was sexually smart, and I like to think I learned a few things along the way.

Not that I’m justifying it, of course. I don’t need to justify it to anyone.

So that’s my second weird sex story. The night I was part of an actual mating ritual.

The 3 Weirdest Sexual Experiences I've Ever Had

It’s Not A Good Morning

It's Not A Good Morning

I woke up to this photo and it was like a stab to the heart. I’m starting to really hate my TimeHop app, but I’m a masochist and for some reason, I just can’t delete it. Or turn off the notifications. Nope – I decide to give myself daily reminders of past loves gone by. Past loves that aren’t entirely in the past.

I’m pretty sure I’ve told you about this day before. It was the day after the night before. We’d gotten drunk and had our first fight. He was throwing his cash around and generally getting on my nerves, and before I knew it, I was drunk and I slapped him around the face. I’m still not one hundred percent sure why I did that, but it sure was funny afterwards. I’m glad he never took that seriously. I think he knew it was just my way of seeing how far I could push him. After being married to a man that would punch me in the face basically every time he got drunk, I needed to be sure that wasn’t going to happen with Jock too.

The next day, we were hungover as balls and we got ourselves a prepared sandwich and pork-pie picnic and headed to the beach. Lying on the big rocks on the secluded sea front, enjoying the cool breeze and forgetting about sun cream in the baking summer sun… It was a perfect day. Or it would have been if it weren’t for the hangover.

I’m pretty sure we had bumped into his ex that night, and he’d made a comment that upset me. It was the first night she ruined our time together but it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. I wish I had know two years ago today how much hassle she was going to cause me. I don’t think I would have gone through with it all a second time around.

When I saw that photo though, it wasn’t that fight I remembered. It was the amazing day afterwards where we apologised profusely to each other and promised it wouldn’t happen again. It rarely did, thankfully but that’s only because we didn’t drink together that often. It was probably for the best. Every time we did, it was a total disaster.

I still want him back so much, you know. It’s not as bad now as it was a few months ago, but my longing for him is still much stronger than it should be. I’m still convinced that somehow, someday we’ll get back together. I’m still sure he was my Prince Charming. I just think we both fucked it up. I made mistakes too. It wasn’t all him.

As much as my Someone New is starting to nestle his way into my heart, I can’t get Jock out of my head completely. Nor do I want to. Even after all this time, there is still a very big part of me that wants him right back in my life again. It was all so easy when he was in my life and although we fought like cat and dog sometimes, I was happy. I was. I really, really was.

I’m starting to wonder if maybe there was something in us, and whether we both gave up too soon. He stretched out to me and sent that message a few months ago, didn’t he? What happens if I am right, and you’re all wrong? All you people telling me he’s no good for me… What if you’re wrong? You only see things from my point of view, don’t you? You don’t hear about how unreasonable HE thinks I’m being. Because trust me, unreasonable is my middle name sometimes. Even Someone New has realised that now.

The point I’m trying to make here is, what if he was my one? I know we had down’s but man, did we have up’s too. I know I deserved more, and sometimes he did too, but he’s all I want. Even right now, sat in my bed at 01:24 in the morning, crying, listening to Paolo Nutini’s Better Man. Because he sent me that song and I like to think that at the time, he meant every word of it.

I love him. And I’m starting to wonder if this heartache will ever go away. Because right now, as pissed off and sad as he made me sometimes, it still wasn’t halfway near as bad as the pain I feel when I realise we aren’t together anymore. Like this morning when I woke up to that godamn photo that broke my heart all over again. I love him and I miss him. And I really want him back.

But still, I don’t message him because everyone keeps telling me I shouldn’t. I don’t un-block him in the hope he and sends me another message. I don’t do any of the things I want to do, because it’s ‘bad’.

But honestly, why is it so bad? If it would make me happy, having him back in my life, why would it be so bad?

Who Is This Bitch?

So I’ve noticed something. Every time Someone New posts a little update, photo or shares something on his Facebook page, one of his female friends likes it. Let me explain.

The last few times I’ve noticed he has updated his status and I go to ‘like’ it, you know because I’m his girlfriend and all, this female friend has always gotten there moments before I do. Not that it’s a competition or anything, but after the third of fourth time of it happening, I decided to have a little stalk. Her name was being shoved down my throat, so I felt it was only fair.

She has liked virtually every status for the last few months. In fact, the only ones she hasn’t ‘liked’ were the ones involving me.

Funny that. 

She’s blonde with short hair and big Bambi eyes. She’s my age. She’s divorced and has a couple of kids (I think). Every now and again, she posts a profile picture of her with this guy, but I think the guy could be her brother. The pair look pretty alike.

Now…. Before you think I’m just being the bunny boiler from hell, I feel the need to explain a little more.

From the sounds of it, Someone New has been pretty unlucky in love for a while, and during the course of his single-ness, was set up a number of times by friends that clearly had no clue what he was looking for. A few of these girls he was set up with keep coming up in conversation, because they ‘happened’ to be at a friends house when he went over there or whatever.

A while ago, he was at a friends house, and walked a ‘mutual friend’ home late at night. I assumed the ‘mutual friend’ was a girl because I imagine a guy could get his own ass home. A few days later, it turned out that this was a girl that his friends had once tried to set him up with. A few days after that, the girl had been very flirty with him, and was still holding the same torch for him she had when they were initially set up… And didn’t work. Well, I think it might be her that’s doing the Facebook-like-athon.

He didn’t tell me the whole story at once, and although I could be being just a tad paranoid here, I’ve been in this exact situation before. Multiple times.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think he’s cheating on me. I definitely don’t think he has that kind of behaviour in him. I think he ‘eggs’ these girls on though. I think he encourages them as a confidence boost; an ego-massager, if you like? Not in a malicious way. I just don’t think he’s used to having female attention, and from looking at his younger photos, he’s definitely gotten better with age. I think he’s relishing. That’s fine – we all do it. But does it need to happen right in front of my face?

When I put a hot profile picture up (you know the one – you took fifteen IDENTICAL shots, and picked the right one where your eyeliner / eyebrows / contouring looked spot on, and then you added a filter, ‘blurred’ out the blemishes… etc.), the guys that want to have sex with me don’t publicly ‘like’ every one. They send me a cheeky WhatsApp message telling me how hot I look. It doesn’t need to be publicly broadcasted. Like honestly, this bitch just looks a little desperate. EVERY status? I don’t even do that, and I’m his girlfriend.

Part of me wants to ask him outright – Who is this bitch? Why is she liking all of your statuses, shares, pictures, etc.? All of them that don’t include me? But can I? I don’t know. I’ll blame the female intuition thing, but something doesn’t feel right about it. It just makes me feel uncomfortable. Maybe it’s just all innocent?

I know this though – if I’m getting jealous, I definitely like him. It takes a lot to make me jealous these days.

A Small, Planted Seed

Yep, pretty sure I’m falling in love with him. Someone New. I’m pretty sure that has started to happen. I don’t really know how. A month ago, I kept blowing him out and not really feeling that bad about it, not bothered whether or not I saw him. I only left him two hours ago and I’m already pining. It’s quite sad really.

We had a beautiful night under the stars. That night we had planned on Sunday (when he was off work and I blew him out again), we had last night instead and I won’t lie, it was pretty fucking awesome.

It was nothing special. We bought a disposable BBQ, some steaks and sausages, spuds, freshly made bread, wine, etc. We laid a picnic blanket down in his tiny patio back yard, and BBQ’d our meat, drank our wine, and listened to music, just chilling, and laying, and watching the stars. Although nothing special, it was actually beautifully romantic.

We don’t do much normally because he’s working. He’s boss man so he actually works pretty hard, just one of the things I adore about him. It’s like he has an endless supply of energy, and he’s always running around. He walks to and from work every day, even though he has a beautiful bike in his garage, and that takes about 20-25 minutes I reckon. His days off are filled with fixing things or cleaning things, hanging out with friends, looking after dogs, entertaining toddlers….

It’s exhausting just listening to him sometimes, but he takes it all in his stride. He has had his own battles with anxiety and bowel issues, just as I am right now, and he is not only sympathetic, but full of wisdom too. The only thing he needs to do is learn how to slow down every once in a while – something he says I am helping him with.

Our time is spent lazing around, either in front of the TV, in his bed, in the backyard… We just laze our hours away, touching and cuddling and kissing. It was like that at the beginning, and it’s like that now – six months later. I know we don’t see each other as regularly as most other couples, but we both make an effort for each other still, and that’s such a wonderful trait in a relationship, I think.

At the same time, we do stuff too. We went bowling and we go for cocktails and glasses of wine, as well as dinners and breakfasts. We’ve been shopping together, and lazed historic towns together. We’ve watched movies and not made it to the end, and we’ve cooked together, dancing and singing around his always-immaculate kitchen.

You see, all of a sudden, things have started getting a whole load more poetic with this man. I didn’t see this happening…

It’s just the perfect mix. I wish I could see him more, and I’m starting to make a real effort to actually see him. That, in itself, shows me that I’m more into him than I give myself credit for. I just don’t really know when or how that started happening. Or whether or not I like it.

I’m meant to be seeing him Sunday night, meeting his best friends (and their toddler) for take-out and movie night at their house. Great, no mutual territory or anything, just throw me right into their house. I have already smashed one of their wedding glasses and fucked in their bed before I’ve even met them.

Smooth.

I guess we’ll see how much I like him. Will I turn up? I’ve blown them out every other time before. I didn’t feel ready to meet his friends before. I didn’t feel ready to incorporate myself into his life. But this morning, I walked with him to work, grabbed coffees for his work colleagues, and spent an hour with them, getting the guided tour. Thankfully, the work colleague he’d already fucked wasn’t there.

That woulda been #Awks.

It’s not lust, before you say it. We’re in lust for sure, but it’s not just that. We have had some serious obstacles when it comes to bedroom activity, so if it was just sex keeping us together, it would have fizzled out weeks ago. Months ago in fact. It’s only just now starting to get to a point where we can have something that resembles a ‘regular’ sex life, six months after my procedure. And I can tell you this – it’s just getting better. Last night’s sweaty, hot, hardcore, short and sweet fucking was the perfect scratch to the itch, so to speak. And this morning’s 5am re-run. It was ‘normal’ sex. No toys, no blindfold, no party tricks – just us. Me and him. Him and me. Naked. Sweaty. Slipping. It was amazing. The whole night was just like something out of a movie. Adorable evening, followed by a hot and sweaty night. The perfect summer date if you ask me. Plus there was wine. What more could you ask for?

So yeah, I guess something is finally happening. Maybe he’s just romanticised his way into my life? He’s a pretty romantic kinda guy. When you’re faced with adoration like he shows me, it would be impossible to not feel something.

A Small, Planted Seed

Even if it is just a small, planted seed. 

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When Karma Keeps Comin’

So, I’ve figured out the answer to the question. How do you make a relationship with Big Love last longer than two years?

The answer – get yourself pregnant.

Talking to some of my girls on the other side of the world, bitching about the Beluga Whale and Little Miss Sunshine and their current ‘being-sued situation‘, and I learned some new information.

Big Love got fired from his job. Boom.

He had to move away. Boom.

He accidentally got his girlfriend pregnant. Boom.

Well, well, well, what with Big Love and Beluga Whale, karma is on fine form right now, don’t you think?

For a split second, my heart pined. I’m happy for him though! Genuinely. I’m clapping my hands with glee and excitement over the fact he fucked up his life once again, going from a job where he was earning thousands every month to being a manager of some crappy little vitamin store, but I’m happy for him. Apparently that’s where I went wrong – I didn’t accidentally get myself up the duff. That’s the trick to making a relationship with him last longer than two years.

You see, right at the beginning of our love affair he told me just that – he couldn’t seem to hold a relationship down for longer than 18 months / two years. He hadn’t managed it with girls before me and go figure, he couldn’t manage it with me either. I know he has been with the girl he’s with now for a while, maybe even around the two year mark. They split up for a while, and he dated someone else. A few months ago during one of my late-night insomnia stalk fests, I realised they were back together. Not just that but the bubbly blonde had dyed her hair a dark brunette colour, and she had recently liked a ‘mother’s working from home’ page….

At the time I wondered if she could be pregnant and once again, I have learned to trust my gut instinct. I’m always right about these things. I like to think my female intuition is on fine form.

When I heard the confirmation, I didn’t feel quite as shitty as I thought I might have done. I always thought that finding out Big Love found his happy ending with someone else would make me cry, but it didn’t. I couldn’t even find one tear for him, and I think I know why. It’s because I’m older and wiser now, and although I loved him and would have done anything for him, I knew he was bad news. We were bad news for each other. I made him take drugs, and he made me cut myself. It was a recipe for disaster and I know, regardless of how much it broke my heart at the time, parting ways was the smartest choice. Who knows what would have happened if I had stayed? Maybe I would still have been working for Little Miss Sunshine and the Beluga Whale, and I’d be caught up in the shit they’re going through right now.

Everything in life happens for a reason. I know that now. I know there is a reason for everything that happens, whether it’s bad or good. There’s a reason we didn’t work out, Big Love and I, and there’s a reason I left the country, my friends, the bad work place…

I guess I’m just thankful. I’m thankful that I’ve been through the heartbreaking ordeals that I’ve been through. I like to think it has made me a much smarter person, and although I still make l mistakes, at least I won’t make those again.

I must admit though, it’s still a little gutting to learn that my dickhead ex-boyfriend is having a kid and I’m not. Especially seeing as he already has one child he doesn’t see or want.

When Karma Keeps Comin'