What to do, what to do

Today was very productive in a: "you're dead fucking wrong sort of way." I told my guy that I've been eyeing for a while exactly what I've been thinking about him.
And get this, he says he felt the exact same way!
Which is weird because he never let on. But he said the same about me. And you know I feel so much better getting it all out there and leaving us to do whatever we decide. I'm glad that it's not just me, having these thoughts and then trying to battle with myself whether or not to act on them, suppress them, or what you know? I feel better that it's out in the open, at least THAT part is "out there" and done.
I, however, am not so sure if I have the balls to go through with the physical part.
(1) being my DH, how could I? And
(2) I'm a little self-conscience about my body since I've had my kids.
So what's a lady to do? All I know is that since our conversation I'm all jittery, happy, and tingly! Feels good, but weird, and happy but in a very sad sort of way.
I'm becoming the men and women I despise on television and talk-shows, soaps, real-life, etc. A cheat. Cause honestly I've already cheated in a sense, I let on, I lurd him and of course what man, with nothing to lose would turn down a ready and willing woman? Not this guy certainly!
Parts of me really really wants to go through with this, and the other part wants to just want it and that's all. Wonder, but never actually really act. Because acting turns me into a cheater, a threat to my marriage, my family, and my life as I know it.
I keep hinting at my husband that I'm too lonely sometimes to be considered a married woman, he of course doesn't take the hints, but he's so sweet about the whole thing. Wants to know what he can do to help me if anything, etc. etc. But in all honesty I don't think this irkling I have will go away until it's been satisfied in some way.
I don't know what it is about him, because in the appearance catergory he's not my type at all, I'm not attracted to him for this reason, but for reasons that lie far deeper than something as vain as beauty. I'm so enamoured with his personality, his intellect, he speech, his way of being. It all just really turns me on. And I've never had this happen before, never have I by just having a mere conversation with a person on many different levels made me want to "jump his bones" directly afterwards. But I do, I do. I think the sex would be great! I can almost feel it you know, it's weird.
I KNOW! It's weird.
But I'm scared...scared that I will actually end up doing this, end up liking it, possibly even loving it. And that just scares me more, the thought of being semi-addicted to some other man's dick, is really scary. Not to mention getting caught, or caught-up, catching feelings. So many what-ifs.
I don't know what to expect from him. And that's the weird part about it, he tells me about all his "sexcapades" and how he is towards woman and I see the way he works them over and thinks towards them: and I STILL want it? Is that not crazy? Is that not insane? I don't want to be dogged, even if I do just want a "fuck-buddy" per say. I'm so confused. I think this is far more complicated than just simply fucking here and there and moving on. It takes planning and percision, and a lack of a conscious. And I'm not sure If have all those traits. I don't want to turn my working environment, that's been pretty mellow, into something totally weird and crazy, but I do want to explore these thoughts I've been having about him.
I talked to my best-friend about it yesterday and she said something that really stuck out to me: "After sex everything is different, either in a good way or a bad way, and it's not certain that you'll both feel the same way about it"

Families without fathers...

I was out to dinner this weekend with my best friend and one of her friends that I also know because I used to work with her. But along on this "date" she brought her father. Not the man that helped contribute to her birth but her father, her daddy. In every sense of the word. Their relationship just flowed so naturally and so easily and I was SO jealous. You know simple things that aren't so simple when you really look at the delicacy of the issue. At first I was amazed that her mother and father were still together, let along married. But their relationship was one filled with pure love and emotion. For me it's rare to see "complete" families, and seeing her with her father made me want mines that much more. And it wasn't anything "special" that happened on this visit, just to watch their normal interaction, was simply amazing.
I want that, that something, with my father. But he's not that type of person, not at all. This man can't even remember the names of my children, my birthday, my sister's birthday. He's not a father at all.

And to all fathers out there, if you have a daughter, you have no idea how important the things you say and do are to her. You have no idea how the way that you treat her will shape her life, her future relationships and what she expects of men. And I have a dad of course he's human, some good, some bad. But I will tell you this:
There is almost nothing that will break a girl's heart like her dad forgetting her birthday. I don't care if she is 12 or 22. If you don't call your daughter and send her a card on her birthday, it will break her fragile feminine heart. At least call. And please don't try to guess the right ago with so much uncertainty in your voice. She may never tell you. Instead, she'll cry quietly alone. She won't bring it up until her mother asks if you've called, and then, her silence and the catch in her throat will give it away. Maybe it has happened so many times that her mother is tired of calling you to tell you how you've hurt your daughter.
Even if you do call, a day late, two days late, it is just that, late. Too late. You won't be able to change how you've hurt her. You won't be able to take away the feeling of sadness that her own father didn't call on her birthday, just didn't care. It won't matter that her mother, her aunt and her sister all called and made a big deal of it. It won't matter that she got a few email cards and went out for dinner and had ice cream with a candle in it. Because what she will remember about that day is that her dad forgot and didn't call. Her dad, the one she wants to be proud of her, forgot all about her. And by the time she is 22, even though you have forgotten more than once, she still hopes you remember. She still wishes that you'd call. She still wants you to think she's pretty, to be proud of her, to adore her. To love her enough to call.
And when you don't, when you don't tell her those things, you'll have no idea how much it hurts her. No idea until you read some random girl's blog whose dad forgot her birthday. Maybe then you'll remember. Maybe it'll stick with you. Maybe you'll tell your daughter that you love her the next time that you talk to her.

If I come to a screeching halt...then what?!!

Sometimes, I wake up with the tiniest seed of a bad mood inside me. I know it’s there by the way I get so frustrated when I accidentally drop my rob on the floor instead of making it onto it’s hanger before my shower. In that physical frustration that takes me over, I know. I know it’s there, that bad mood. Just waiting to blossom.
So what do I do? Do I try to dig it up and toss it in the garbage? Do I remind myself that I have absolutely no reason to be pissed off. Do I do my best to overcome this impending bad mood, and focus on the fact that today will be a good day?
No, no, no. What I do is far more unhealthy. I water that little seed. I tend to it. I talk to it. I nurture it, encouraging growth, until it sprouts forth, fully formed; an irreversible bad mood.

And I don’t know why I do it, but I do. I always have. Something about being angry, upset, pissed off…It just makes me feel good, or something. Deep, maybe. I feel like I have a reason to listen to my melancholy playlist on my iPod, and I have a reason to roll my eyes and speak in clipped, angry sentences. Misery is my favorite kind of company, and I’m happy to make it feel welcome. I offer it a drink, a blanket, a good book. Come on in, Misery. Make yourself at home! You’ll be here a while, perhaps you’d like a pillow? I hate the way I do it, the way I, once I have that seed of permission to do so: I focus only on the negative.

1. Like the car that blocked my clear path out of the driveway.
2. The empty sugar container.
3. The one piece of hair that won’t get the fuck off of my forehead already.
4. The way my fingers won’t cooperate with the keyboard and just type what I want to type.
5. The $700 I need spent on new brakes.

But, more than anything, I take it out on DH. I start focusing on everything he hasn’t done. But chief among his sins are my brakes. For days, he’s been promising to get me a good price on the brakes my car is in desperate need of. Since Friday, when a new mechanic scared the shit out of me by saying that my beloved almost-new brakes were dry rotted and required immediate replacing to avoid the inevitable accident that is just around the corner, I’ve been worried with every other car I pass on the road. Obviously, I cannot live this way.

So the mechanic is on the case, researching the price of the brakes I want. And, in the meantime, I’m staying off of the interstate and driving only when I have to, because not only is it scary to have your brakes give out, but it’s also embarrassing. Because I don’t want to be the girl with the bad brakes on the side of a busy road, helpless and crying. Because that’s exactly what will go down if I don't have them fixed. So, naturally, it is imperative for me to get these brakes. Now. If not sooner. So that I can drive from point A to point B without the nervous breakdown that accompanies every pothole or bump or acceleration in the road. DH said, initially, that he’d help me with the brakes, as he has a buddy who can get them for me at wholesale. I knew he wouldn’t get anywhere over the weekend, but I expected, surely, that on Monday he’d have it all squared away for me. But every day since then, I’ve heard the same thing: “I got so busy. But I got you a ballpark. You’re looking at anywhere from $600 to $750.” Wow. Thanks. That’s some ballpark. “Just hold out till tomorrow,” he continues. “I’ll have an exact price for you then.” I’ve gone through two tomorrows, and have yet to get a price. I’m still waiting, as per his instruction. And against my better judgment.

The thing about it is, I’m not the kind of gal whose ears spontaneously slam shut when some grease-covered guy starts talking about cars. I’ve driven old cars forever. And not “old” in the “classic” sense, but “old” in the “I’m too cheap to buy a new car, so I’ll drive this one till it dies, thankyouverymuch” sense. I’ve been responsible for keeping these cars in running condition, having replaced clutches, starters, transmissions, water pumps, exhaust systems, suspensions and a myriad of other fun, very costly parts on the few cars I could claim as my own. Granted, I did not crawl underneath the car and replace these things myself, but I did take them to a mechanic and have them replaced. And that counts, by proxy, right?

So it was a diversion from my norm to have DH go about getting the brakes for me, when normally this was something I’d be forced to take care of myself. “So this is what it’s like to have a husband who wants to help you, to take care of you,” I thought. Back on Friday. Before I realized it was more of an offer in theory, as he thought we were in no rush to get the brakes replaced.
So, this morning, while I dialed his number at work a third time to find out about those fucking brakes, and he said he was swamped and could I call back in two hours or so, I lost it. As he spoke, his voice hurried and clearly preoccupied, I thought, “This is why you can’t depend on anyone but yourself. Because when someone says they’re going to help you, they’ll always let you down. Unless it’s your dad or your mom, they will always let you down, put you on the back burner, assign you a low level of importance. Learn your lesson now. Because this? This is what happens when you let yourself be the little woman, even for a day.” “Forget it,” I told him in a shaky voice, dripping with anger. “Your prices are more expensive anyway, without mounting them. I’m just going to order them from the mechanic.”
“Are you sure?” he said, still paying half-attention to me. “Because it’s only a difference of, like, thirty bucks or something for a better quality brake. But, I mean, brakes are brakes, right? Do what you want to do, I’m supporting your decision.” He finished with a laugh, like this was some little joke that we were both in on. Oh, how funny, I’ll support her decision to pick her own brakes like a big girl.

“Yeah. Well, thanks,” I said curtly.
Like a flower blossoming on one of those elapsed-time nature shows, my bad mood erupted. This was the icing on the cake, the final fertilization that made my bad mood’s sapling healthy enough to become full-blown flora. This is my safety, I thought. This isn’t me asking him to check on a book that I might like to buy one day in the future, this is ME, driving down the road with brakes that may or may not give out at any given second, resulting in a loss of control and, naturally, me in some horrible accident. If the situation were reversed, I’d have gotten him prices, suggestions, AND a fucking appointment to have it done by now. Thanks for nothing. DH.
We exchanged hurried (his) and forced (mine) pleasantries before hanging up, where I slammed the handset of my work phone onto its receiver with a force that I thought would surely cause the hard plastic casing of the phone to shatter. I fought tears while I searched for the mechanic’s number to order the damn brakes already. When my cell phone rang. With DH's number.
“Hello?” I said, my voice flat, dead and clearly unhappy.
“Baby? It’s me. Listen, you didn’t order those brakes yet, did you?”
“No.” Huffy, like a kid.
“Well don’t. I’m going to look into it here as soon as I’m done, and then we’ll talk about it tonight, okay? You don’t have to order them right now, do you?”
“Uh, yes I do.” To avoid certain death, duh. “I don’t want them to give out while I’m driving.”
“You won’t,” he said. Though how he can be certain of that, I don’t know. “Trust me. Don’t order them yet, and I’ll tell you exactly what it’ll cost. We’ll figure it out together. Okay?”
I sighed and offered a childish “Fie-nuh,” and hung up.
And now I’m in a holding pattern. I’m waiting for his professional opinion, and fielding phone calls from the mechanic, who’s telling me he can get me in tomorrow if I order the brakes today.

And while my frustration with this particular facet of my life has been building for three days now, it’s only magnified by a million because it culminated today. Of all days. Instead of thinking, “He’s a busy man. He wants to help. I can wait,” I’m thinking, “Don’t offer your fucking help if you can’t fucking help me in a timely fucking fashion.”

This is not healthy.

Thank god I have my kickboxing class tonight; I could use the kicking and punching to relieve this aggression inside of me. You know, as long as my brakes don’t give out and explode on my way to the gym, that is.

List...I love lists...

So I know it's been a while, and to be honest, there really hasn't been much to write about lately.
DH (what we will refer to him as from this point on) came home this past weekend and is already gone again. OF COURSE!
But onto a much needed, lighter side of things, the time that we did have together was simply amazing no matter how short-lived. And that's how it always is, when we haven't saw each other for a while the initial reunion is always great, then just give it 3 maybe even 4 days if I'm lucky.

I've been thinking a lot about getting back into school, buying a house, and going to some sort of marriage seminar/counseling event....

1. I really need to be in school, because it's coming near the end of the current job I work at and I just know that I don't want to have to start from scratch. But the hardest part is actually starting, once I'm there I'm fine...I guess.
2. I really really want a nice backyard for my kids to play in and not feel like I constantly have to check up on them all the time, if I had like a privacy fence they could go out into the locked backyard and play and I would feel at ease cause they'd still be outside (a plus for them) and safe (a plus for me) And not only that but I just can not wait to redecorate my dream kitchen. And apartment living is getting pretty crappy, with all the yearly rent increases but no actual upgrades in the apartment so to speak.
3. And last but not least...DH and I need this counseling! We really do, and I've been thinking, I don't want to do anything too soon, and make any snap judgement towards ending it or straying too far away from him. I want this to work. That's the conclusion I came to during my blog absence. Some self reflection, and I realize that I do love him. Sometimes I feel like I need him, but it gets sort of weird when I realize that he needs me as well.

Because it's easier when we're mad.

So you've pretty much figured from the title that things are in an icky little stage with the husband and I. It's been that way since the 11th or the 12th. I forget which on exactly. But it's just a stupid "what-if" conversation turned sour, and I really didn't expect him to get mad at me from it, especially not as mad as he is now. The entire time he has this sort of light-heartedness about himself and his voice, that I thought this was all really playful and silly conversation but obviously I guess not. He even sent me some really nasty "hate mail" regarding it as well. (Email because of course, for the millionth time, he's away on work) I wonder how things will be when he returns this week, with all that he's said in email looming over his/my head?
When he first left, (this time was a very short trip compared to others) but he seemed so saddened by actually having to leave. That really touched me, because usually he acts like it's no big deal to him that his job takes him away so much.

But on to something else, I was talking today to a former school mate who I don't get to see as much as I like but I keep in touch with her by phone as much as I can, and so she started to confide in me. Come to find out we're in similar situations...at first she started telling me , how she felt like she loved her husband but wasn't "in love" with him. How they were having problems because she had found another man to confide in, instead of him. How she felt she needed time to go and be wild and then come back to the good man that she has at home. And it's soooo crazy that every word out of her mouth is one that would've come from mine.
And I had always thought that they had the cutest life and marriage together.

But that just goes to show how we're all on our own paths. Or our own roller coasters, more like it. Our perception is our reality. Even if you have a perfect marriage, mate, job, or life...if you don't feel like it, then your reality is: you do not! Everyone has to figure they're own lives out, at their own time, with their own consequences. No one can make those decisions for you, you can know it's happening, but nothing can stop you from making your own mistakes but YOU. Sometimes that's the worst part of being an adult, being accountable. For MY OWN MISTAKES. I can't place that blame on the other person, the situation, it's only on me.
Which makes me think that maybe I do have the perfect life here with my husband and kids. Maybe everyone knows and can see that but me. As I did with her. Things are rarely what they appear from the outside though. And to bring up what my grandmother used to say: "Don't get me started on what can go on behind closed doors"
I feel stuck between a rock and hard place. And either way I'm letting someone down, hurting someone's feelings, my own, or my families'.

Why I'm here...

I started this blog because sometimes you need to say things, but have no one really here you. You wanna scream, but you want no attention, you wanna talk and share, but you want no advice, no judgement, no scrutiny, no shame...
Sometimes the hardest people to talk to and share your inner most feelings with are those that you know. Sometimes I wanna stand outside myself and get opinions of myself. Because I know what I want is wrong, what I do, is wrong to do, and sometimes what I crave is wrong to crave. But that doesn't stop it, doesn't stop me from wanting it, from needing in a sense.
So let me give you a little history in an attempt to better inform you...I'm married, with two kids. And not to say that it's not a "happy" marriage, because it really is for the most part. But lately I've started to feel a little cheated in a sense, my husband and I married young, partly because I pressured him, and partly because I was pregnant and we didn't want our son born out of wedlock.
We met in highschool, he approached me, but that point on until towards the end of highschool that was only part that was about ME. He was basically immature then, wanted to play around, have fun, have his cake and eat it too, I guess. For a lot of our relationship back then I was on the back burner, the rebound, or the "girl-on-the-side" He was never completely about me until I cheated on him when he was away on business at work for 3 months and we were engaged.

This guy made my 3rd sexual partner including my husband. When I met this guy, I had every intention to let him fully in to the fact that I was engaged, and happy about it, but that we could still be friends. but as time progressed, it was all so new to me, so real, and fun and adventurous. He was truly the sweetest person I had ever met in my life. And for the first time in a long time, I felt adored, admired, beautiful, wanted, loved, needed, sought after. I felt REAL. And for a long time, (even though this was only a 6 month time span) I didn't want it to end. Not until reality started to sink in, and I had to man up and face the fact that I wasn't the only person begin affected in all this. I had him, my fiancee, and myself. And in my heart of hearts, I knew I would almost always choose my fiancee over anyone. So I let him go, and I have to tell you it was the hardest that I've had to do in a long time. And not because I loved him or still wanted him, but because I knew that he loved me and still wanted me, and I didn't want to hurt him. He cried in my arms that night. And sometimes it hurts more to hurt someone else than to be hurt yourself.

At this time, I think my husband must have finally opened his eyes and started to see me for the "good catch" that I am. Because he made an complete 360. We got married, have been that way for almost 3 years now...
And all of a sudden here it is, dead smack in the middle of our lives together, with two beautiful children in tow...I wanna be with someone else.
And I couldn't even begin to tell you what I think is lacking amongst my husband and I. Maybe it's that he's always gone, in our 3 three years of marriage, he's been gone approx. half of it. Missed the birth of my second child, all the "important" moments for my first. And it's not even that our connection is bad now, that we aren't bonded the same, because when he's here we have fun, we get along for the most part, and I do love him. I just think I have that old: "the grass is greener" complex.

And I know I know, sometimes that's not always as such. I know all the sane answers to this, like: why risk what you have now, for something that you're totally unsure about...etc.
It's just hard to fight it, hard to tread this water that's becoming so increasingly deep. And I don't want to hurt my husband, I know he loves me. And I don't want to be the reason my kids grow up without a father in the home either.

There's just no way to have both? And have everyone happy? My kids, my husband, myself...?