Sex & Relationships: The ultimate act of surrender S01. The Reunion

*But I have no more memories wrapped up in him waiting to be unwrapped, our time has come and gone…twice. And there will be no third time’s a charm. There will be simply, nothing.

Funnily enough, two days after I wrote this we spent the night together and several times afterwards too. Most recently, less that 72 hours ago. It’s no secret I enjoy this man, it’s also no secret his been around for longer than a minute.

So much for ‘nothing’ right? I make myself believe it’s nothing sometimes, so that I don’t place myself in a situation where I could be hurt by the something I am feeling.

One would however think, being an adult and realizing that after being in whatever it was I was in be it in love / in lust or simply infatuated with a man for more than a year with no resulting discussion of a relationship would make things obvious that is never will progress further than drunk friends with benefits, which is weird, because I don’t even think we are friends to be honest.

I try to convince myself that I will stop, with him, but I can’t, and i don’t know why. I want to punch his face but I also want to kiss it. Which is why seeing him again after 4 weeks of not seeing him caused me so much anxiety to a point where I couldn’t even bear to look at him for the first few hours of him arriving.

There will always be something, even if it’s only the sense of something so familiar that it brings comfort…but is that really all we could ever be, each other’s familiar?

However the possibility of nothing is always far too close by, you see with him “nothing” is always more inevitable than anything else.

His withdrawal. His distancing. The ghosting! How do you share intimacy with a woman and then just disappear? After the first time yes, that’s called a one night stand…but a 6 month stand…these things don’t exist, or at least they shouldn’t.

He ignites too many mixed emotions for this to be healthy for me, God knows I have been through too much in my past to be confused with the next one.

I really need to start following my instincts. I really need to start speaking about what I am feeling, even if the risk is rejection. But I also really need to stop trying where it’s clear it will make no difference because that is what I have been doing, trying.

I’m just so scared that he could be everything…but instead he will turn out to be just another something that lead to nothing.

*wastemyowntime2016

 

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Single & Frustrated: Qualifying criteria to be the last one standing…

It’s actually not that difficult, I just make it that way. I mean fuck, if that fuck nut of an ex who still causes me so much turmoil can find someone to put up with his lying, drug addicted, violent, cheating, manipulative, psychopathic ass…then surely I can too.

I just really need someone who will happily pour me wine and watch series with me…and then maybe get something to eat and have sex…the food is optional.

Oh, and you can’t watch series with other girls if you’re watching series with me *and by watch series I mean have sex* …so don’t even try to fuck boy your way into a bread buttering competition…because you can only have it on one side, and that one side is my buns, not her korsie and if you try it any other way you will lose.

I’m not fussy but just so we have clarity, let’s get started:

1. You must be single, single single single and you need to be able to tell me you why you are single. Having your heart broken once is a valid reason and I understand, but don’t hou duk with that excuse because even I know a broken heart can heal…eventually.

2. You need to have the capacity to grow a beard, you do not necessarily have to have one when we meet, but the potential for growth…as with many things in life…needs to be there.

3. You cannot be thinner than me and I’m not thin…

4. You cannot be shorter than me and I’m 1.7…

5. Being big & tall is great, but everything needs to be in proportion…especially our friend down there.

6. I have enough boobs for the both of us, you don’t need to have them too #moobsmustfall

7. You need to be a man man. Not a boy. Not a pansy. Not a”I’m too good to change my own tyre, I’ll pay someone to do it” or “this shirt was  expensive we can’t jump in the pool right now”
   Men make fires, pay their own bills, respect their woman, loves their parents, races cars, owns power tools and can screw anything into any hole.
   Boys quit their jobs and dream of becoming hip hop artists, yes, I know the SABC now says 90% local music so your chances are a lot higher these days…great, for you.

8. I love old people, but I generally prefer them within the range of either 10 years my senior or 1 year my junior…don’t even try, just don’t.

9. You need to be aware of your health, I can’t have sex with you and all of the sudden you get a heart attack, dead is not cool. Being alive under a dead person, even less cool.

10. You must have a hobby, if it’s a sport, great…Fantasy League football does NOT count…you just need to be passionate about something other than me J

11. Please don’t make me go hiking. If I do, then you must know I really enjoy having sex with you to put up with that hiking up mountains bullshit.
12. Being clever is cute and I like it…be qualified in something, have a degree, educate yourself.

13. Please do not ever wear crocs FFS or sloffies that make your toes hang over…just no.

14. Please be able to cook, or at least fry bacon and eggs…I can deal with bacon and eggs for the rest of my life, I REALLY CAN

15. I drink a lot of wine, you need to deal and you need to be willing to come wine drinking with me *I drink , I don’t taste, so it’s never wine tasting, ever*

16. I like going away to new places…I go away often so you need to be proactive and book shit and make plans. And if you don’t then all you ever need to say when I make plans is “yes baby, I’m in” even if it’s the kakkest idea you ever heard.

17. 30 seconds, dominoes and poker is a must…we need to be able to keep ourselves entertained when we are not having sex.

18. You must be a good kisser because you can’t walk around slapping your dick in my face all day

19. You must have good sense of humour and you must be able to make me laugh…I laugh at anything really, I’m totally easy…to please….with jokes *whispering* “and a penis…”

20. You must have a Facebook account. Like it or not we will be Facebook official…my friends have been waiting for my “one” longer than I have and this is non-negotiable…for their sake obviously, not mine, I don’t need the external validation from random strangers nor do i desire the gratification of everyone seeing how ridiculously happy i am and how ridiculously much sex I am having…you know.

Oh, and don’t do drugs and don’t be a violent psychotic hypocrite who likes to fuck around and tell lies.
Oh, and if you read this post and felt intimidated, cringed or thought “wow she’s so un-politically correct and rude”… you are not qualified and you need to fuck off.

Great, good luck.

May the odds be ever in your favour!

Love & Heartache: My X, Y?

This week was the first time that I saw a photograph of him and her together, it’s been 3 years and this was the first time. I saw it once before however, but that was at a “work event’, little did I know that it had already started back then. It’s not like I went looking for it, it appeared on my TL. I never asked for it, I never even realized what it was in the beginning. Something told me to ignore it, but instead, I chose not to. I wanted them to know I know, I wanted everyone else to know my damn name.

I don’t know why I reacted the way I did. Anger.  Lots of anger. Lots. I wanted to rip his throat out and throw it at her. I wanted the earth to swallow them and take them away and hopefully with it all my feelings too.

My feelings for him. My sadness, anger, pain and despair. Why the fuck do I still love him?! Why do I convince myself that I don’t?!

Am I officially insane? This man wanted to kill me for God’s sake.

Why does seeing them together hurt me so badly?

Why do I still feel so angry and filled with rage?

Why can I just not let them be?

It’s because he lied. It’s because he cheated on me, with her. It’s because he lied. It’s because she answered his phone when I called him. It’s because he lied about her. It’s because when I asked her about I’m she said “jou pa se p&o$” as if she knew my father…as if she had a right to be angry at me…as if me asking if she’s sleeping with my boyfriend gave HER the right to be angry at me. It’s because she didn’t know me. She knew about me, from the lies he told. It’s because she didn’t know she was the other woman. It’s because he lied.He lied. To me. All the time.

Seeing that photo has taken me ten steps backwards, I’m feeling the same way this week that I did 3 years ago. The sadness, crying, headaches, insomnia; it’s all back. The pressure, tension and anxiety. The mood swings. They’re all back. Like a fucking reunion of my mixed messed up emotions.

I hate him again for doing this to me, but then I hate myself again for allowing it.

I was trying really hard, to get better. I really was. I even tried to fall in love again, I even tried to convince myself that I was. I wish I could be, that is the only way I won’t love him anymore, is if I love someone else, but I don’t want to love someone else just to stop loving him, because that’s not fair either. But I feel nothing. This is why I do what I do; in an attempt to feel something. It never works.

So I’m going to be stuck in this limbo for a while and it hurts me every day while I’m here, but I don’t know where else to go.

*The way I loved him was some kind of powerful, I’d give anything to feel that way again, but I’d give everything to feel this kind of pain again…not ever. Not ever again

Women & Love: Making love amidst the hate

I never knew what it was like to hate another until the day I started hating him.

It’s an over powering emotion, hatred. Rids you of everything good…I used to be kind, gentle and caring. I used to be soft and loving. I am not her anymore.I knew if I continued to harbor those negative emotions that hatred would eventually consume me, lead me into situations and exhibiting behaviors that I had never thought could be possible, that could ever be me. I lived on that roller-coaster for a little over 18 months simply trying to feel something, anything…anything other than hate and something other than sadness. So, with that being said, it has taken a while for this choice to finally be made; I’ve said it before, even believed it…but now ready to make peace with it.

I’ve made peace with no longer being in love with him, although I still love him.

I’ve made peace with not hating him…although I still fear him.

I made peace with the fact that I will eventually  “nothing him”. That I will be immune to his name, his memory. That the fear of him knowing will eventually nullify itself as I move into a better space.

Being semi-neutral toward a man that I used to have such intense and powerful emotions for, I am able to find some glimmer of hope that I can indeed move on, again. I believed this many times before, but each time to a realization that maybe no, maybe I was indeed not ready.

Being semi-neutral gives me a glimmer of hope that I can develop feelings for someone else, healthy feelings…but those glimmers of hope are short lived when my other temperaments flare up again. Jealousy, possessiveness, expectations, my short & explosive temper…you see, I’m not very nice anymore, nor am I better. I never will be better, but I can be nice again. This is my battle, the one I fight every day.

I thought I could fall in love again, I did. I thought so. I still do. I think. I even tried making love while consumed by all this hate. Making love is not exactly what I would call what I was doing, but I tried. I really did. I still do. Most days trying is all I can do.

You see, I’ve always been the one giving too many chances, overlooking red flags, but sometimes I need peace, I need the white flag for once…and some times, most of all, all I need is simply a chance too.

*And so here I am again. Indifferent. And in love. I think.

Women & Heartache: My three year anni{misery}

I knew that some day when I’d eventually meet someone new that he would know; not because he was told but because he’d be able to feel it; that he would be able to feel my love for him fading and eventually dying.

We always knew each other so well, he knew every smile, every eye roll, every “it’s fine” when it wasn’t because he made it that way. We’d start speaking at the same time {and it would always be about the same thing}. Our bodies mirrored each other the same way our minds did.

There was a time when we were perfect for each other, but that time was short lived.

It’s officially been three years and one day since the fateful end of our relationship. The timeline of our demise has become somewhat blurry but I believe we died the day he decided to give me my very first blue eye. Three years has since passed since I felt the sting of that man’s hand against my face. Three years since the day he put his hands around my neck and suffocated me. Three years since he literally wanted to kill me. Some would say it’s been long enough for me to be okay by now, for some to question why it still hurts this badly; those people clearly have never known heartache the way I have at the hand of someone they loved, I pray for their sakes they never do. There’s been many things since that “three years” but what it all comes down to is heart ache, heart break, heart wrenching & heart gutting anguish and turmoil and every other adjective to describe the falling & breaking of a woman…to a pit so deep that the light at the end of that tunnel is no where to be seen.

You see heartache is no joke, it is not something to be taken lightly, it is not something you simply “get over” or “move on” from. No…heartache is a disease that has no cure, something no doctor can medicate. There is no magic pill for this kind of shit, and so you deal with the shit in the best way you know how. I have, whether it has worked or not remains to be seen but what I can say is that the fear of having my heart ripped open again has been the sole reason for the erection of these walls {I just said erection, hahaha}; these walls that not only prevent anyone from coming close enough to hurt me, but seemingly also prevents anyone from coming close enough to make me happy. And happiness could be the very cure that I so desperately need.

A friend of his always said “the two of you have such a strong chemistry that it borders both passion and insanity”, he’d say “julle is so lief vir mekaar dat dit julle mal maak” {you guys love each other so much that it literally drives you crazy}.

I remember telling him after the break up that I wish to never speak of him again, to never have to say his name, to never have to hear it being spoken in my company…but in that same breath I also asked him “tell me how do I explain to someone what I am without doing that? How do I tell my story without sharing yours, and ours?”

The simple answer is I won’t ever have to because the right man won’t need me to explain. The pain and torment I experienced at his hand will eventually be erased by the gentleness of another’s. The words he uttered to me, will be erased by the kind words spoken off the lips of another. One day there will be another who will come to live in my heart when it’s ready to open it’s door.

So who is this “other” you may wonder; well this is what it’s been about of late; the battle of the two; the one who instantaneously broke down my walls from the day we met, the one who when I see him literally makes my heart skip a beat, taking my breath away, the one whom I just can’t seem to stay away from…yet I manage to do just that

*because then there’s The Architect, who just so happens to be someone worth writing about

**but that’s a story for another day

***happy anni{misery} & a day, to me

 

 

Sex & Relationships: The ultimate act of surrender S.01 The Finale

“Patience is a virtue. My body is aching. My memory is intact. I am happy.”

I was happy at the idea of a next one, of a new relationship at some point, I was happy and very okay with moving on. The Architect had been popping up in a number of my blogs and truth be told, this will most likely be the last.

After taking us a year to gather up the courage, albeit Dutch courage, to kiss each other…it would appear whatever was happening between the two of us has finally ended. But when I see him, when we’re at a place together, it’s like we can’t keep our eyes off each other. I catch him staring at me; and the only reason I see it is because I’m staring at him too…from across the bar, the dance floor, the room, wherever he is…that’s where my eyes are. I manage to crack a smile and then I don’t know what to do, so I look away, I turn away and I walk away. As I walk away I look into the face of his ex-girlfriend who always seems to find her fucking way to events he will be at and I can’t help but think that she is it. She is the reason. The reason I will never be given, the reason for his elusiveness and lack of comprehension.

I’m just too old to be playing these games man, I’ve told him before “I like you, and I know you like me…and I think we like each other enough to give this one more try”…my honesty seemed in vain, and it’s not something I do often…be honest about my feelings. But with him I was. But with him it never worked. And so this time with him the surrender is going to be somewhat different, it is not giving in to a desire, but giving up on one. Him. I’m giving up on him. I’ve decided this many times before though yet each time something makes me change my time…like the way he calls me “woman!” gets me every time.  But it eventually all comes back to this, an inevitable ending, an inevitable ending without a reason.

It’s ironic though, him being an Architect. In a sense I needed someone to re-design me and build me up from the nothing that was left behind…he doesn’t even know that he’s done this, I wasn’t even aware that he was doing this. When I surrendered to him, that first time, he made me not want it from anyone else because he made me remember what it’s supposed to feel like. How I felt with him. How he behaved when he was with me. And nothing’s been the same since, nothing else has come close. No one else.

He will never know any of this, he will never know the impact he has made on my life. I will never tell him. Honesty doesn’t seem to work with him…and honestly, I don’t think he deserves to know. He doesn’t deserve a lot of my feelings. In hindsight. He never did. As I write this I feel bursts of anger at his cavalier attitude toward me, our situation, has he not being paying attention? Surely he cannot be that clueless? Perhaps he likes the vagueness of wonder & confusion. Perhaps LEAVING things open makes him more open to the idea of LEAVING. Clearly.

I will continue to stare at him though. My heart will continue to skip a few beats, smiling at the memory of what was, of what could have been.

*But I have no more memories wrapped up in him waiting to be unwrapped, our time has come and gone…twice. And there will be no third time’s a charm. There will be simply, nothing.

 

 

 

Love & Relationships: He was my one, WAS.

I think about him far too often for it to be healthy. I think about how much I loved him, what I did to be with him, what I gave up, what I lost, but also what I gained. It might seem like nothing to many people, but I gained the knowledge of what I never want again. Of what I never want to feel again, of what I never want to hear again. I gained the knowledge that love does in fact not hurt, it heals. And when it hurts, it is not love.

Our story is an amazing one, I think we were just too young when we met the first time and the second time {10 years later} was not the right time. We made ourselves believe it was though, but having something that started out wrong was bound to end wrong. And boy did it ever.

We fell into a love that you simply do not ever fully recover from. A chemistry so strong that it could be good, so good…and bad, so bad. A chemistry that many described as dangerous. And again, boy was it ever! We are over now, have been for a number of years, but in our souls we will always be each other’s other. The one that taught us more that we would like to admit, the one that hurt the other more than we could ever explain and the ones that loved each so much that it literally nearly killed them.

He is my forever, the one that will that will continue to live in a small place in the corner of my heart, mind and soul. His name tattooed on my body marking every place he ever touched. Every place his eyes ever landed. The one that will always be both my best and worst memory. He is my one. Well, was my one. That’s the only difference now. That’s the only thing that has changed.

I believe I will never love another man with the same intensity and passion with which I loved him, and that’s okay. We had a great love, when it was good it was amazing. But the bad out numbered the good nine times out of ten. He was it, until he was no more. Until he changed. Until the man I loved lived no more.

I don’t want to replace that love. I’ve used men over the last few months to replace his memory, it won’t ever work…I tried hard, I really did. It’s not fair to them and it is indeed not fair to me to continue to try and do that. It is with this epiphany that I am now able to move forward into the hope that I will in fact be okay, that I will fall in love again and that I will be loved in return. Although he will always be a part of me as I will be a part of him, trying to write his story out of me will never work. Trying has exhausted me. Even my tired is tired.

*I’m just tired. But wait…I still have a date tonight {fok}