This week was absolutely INSANE... know what I mean? It's the "running around like a chicken with your head cut off" type of work week. I worked 8 or 9 hours every day. I had a concert in another town on Tuesday and didn't get home until 1:00am and a dinner on Wednesday after work. I had an online meeting with my sister last night and private lessons after work on two evenings as well. To boot, I have to work Saturday morning this week.
I really haven't even looked at my computer except to talk to my sister last night while I tried to relax on the couch and watch inception (again).
I need to catch up on a million things including emails and reading blogs. I will do that this weekend.
Last Sunday was a massively huge blow to me. I spent the day in tears and I haven't had much time to think about what I was told until yesterday when I was supposed to talk to my (half) sister about it.
My father lives in a far away country, about a 24 hour flight from where I am now. We talk almost weekly on Skype, but I hadn't heard from him since before my holidays in Croatia. He'd had some minor health issues when he'd come to visit me this winter here and I was pretty sure he was busy with getting tests done and such to figure things out.
On Sunday he told me he has prostate cancer.
I told bf of course and I sent Rob an email. I decided not to post here until now. One because I just haven't had the time, and two because I felt like I needed to let the information settle a little.
I lost my mother to cancer 6/7 years ago, I lost my aunt (my father's sister) to cancer 5/6 years ago, and I am deathly afraid of losing my father. I have always been very close to him, much closer than I ever was to my mother.
Needless to say I'm scared shitless, but at the same time, in this case I'm confident that things will go for the best.
It's funny how things work though isn't it? How I just posted that entry on my mother's death and all...
I think I'll leave this here. But next week should be a little less hectic.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Why Not to Get Involved with Married Men.
Yesterday as a total fluke I caught Rob online. Bf is now working one weekday per week apart from the usual weekends. I'd caught Rob on Sunday and wasn't expecting to catch him online again so soon. I was just getting some stuff done on the computer and was finishing a telephone call. I was literally going to hang up and text him to let him know I was on when I got his IM.
The conversation lasted quite a while. It was, yet again, a mix of random things, including another question as to when I'd be coming over. Just the thought of it, even now, makes me wet. I told him quite honestly that I didn't know but probably in 2013. We joked about the impossibility of him ever coming here, although as he said he'd like to.
One other thing in the conversation stood out for me (apart from his hard cock at the end). He asked me if we should set a cut off date for our "relationship". When I asked why, he simply said "we need to grow up". Then he suggested 40, so I said "but that's just 5 years from now!". He's 38, it would only be 2 years for him as he quickly pointed out.
Whether he was joking or not is still a mystery to me. I don't think that he meant it seriously, but I think part of him does want to get over me. That's not the right term though. He wants to forget about me might be better. It's not the first time he's brought it up. He brought it up in Birmingham even. The first day we were together there.
There is a part of me that agrees with him, I doubt this thing can go on forever. I'd hate to have to set a cut off date though. It's too.... terminal, too traumatic... too difficult.
I was going to say (but didn't) that we'll cut it off if things don't work out with bf and I after I move, or if I ever get a new bf, but that would be rather selfish of me.
When I sit to think about it I just want to whine and say I don't want it to end.... ever, but that's not practical, is it? Then again love generally isn't practical in its own right.
There is a stupid devil that sits on my shoulder and makes a minor part of me want him to break up with his gf so that I could have him for myself. I know that's not going to happen. I have always promised myself (and him) that I'd never expect that from him. I'm not like that. I want what's best for him as well as myself, but that doesn't stop some part of my heart from wanting it.
It's a bit like something he told me a while back; that there was a part of him that didn't want me to break with my bf because it would mean me finding someone better and then he'd lose me.
I've always said to myself that I'd never get involved with a married man, and here I am basically in that position. And I know, only rarely do they ever leave their wives. I guess this is why women fall for married men.
There never really is that definite no in your heart.
No matter what, you'll always hope.
The conversation lasted quite a while. It was, yet again, a mix of random things, including another question as to when I'd be coming over. Just the thought of it, even now, makes me wet. I told him quite honestly that I didn't know but probably in 2013. We joked about the impossibility of him ever coming here, although as he said he'd like to.
One other thing in the conversation stood out for me (apart from his hard cock at the end). He asked me if we should set a cut off date for our "relationship". When I asked why, he simply said "we need to grow up". Then he suggested 40, so I said "but that's just 5 years from now!". He's 38, it would only be 2 years for him as he quickly pointed out.
Whether he was joking or not is still a mystery to me. I don't think that he meant it seriously, but I think part of him does want to get over me. That's not the right term though. He wants to forget about me might be better. It's not the first time he's brought it up. He brought it up in Birmingham even. The first day we were together there.
There is a part of me that agrees with him, I doubt this thing can go on forever. I'd hate to have to set a cut off date though. It's too.... terminal, too traumatic... too difficult.
I was going to say (but didn't) that we'll cut it off if things don't work out with bf and I after I move, or if I ever get a new bf, but that would be rather selfish of me.
When I sit to think about it I just want to whine and say I don't want it to end.... ever, but that's not practical, is it? Then again love generally isn't practical in its own right.
There is a stupid devil that sits on my shoulder and makes a minor part of me want him to break up with his gf so that I could have him for myself. I know that's not going to happen. I have always promised myself (and him) that I'd never expect that from him. I'm not like that. I want what's best for him as well as myself, but that doesn't stop some part of my heart from wanting it.
It's a bit like something he told me a while back; that there was a part of him that didn't want me to break with my bf because it would mean me finding someone better and then he'd lose me.
I've always said to myself that I'd never get involved with a married man, and here I am basically in that position. And I know, only rarely do they ever leave their wives. I guess this is why women fall for married men.
There never really is that definite no in your heart.
No matter what, you'll always hope.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Death
It haunts me when I close my eyes to try to get to sleep. I've never told anyone. Ever. It's too painful. Recently though I've decided that I need to purge.
I arrived that morning, she had an oncologist appointment that I wanted to be present at. The nurses at hospice told me she was still sleeping. One of the nurses confessed that she had been gulping for air when she checked on her, so she had put a humidifier in the room. The nurse asked me if I wanted to go in and see her. I said no, "I'll let her sleep".
I sat patiently waiting for her to wake up, there was no rush, it was early. The appointment was later.
I was reading a book I think. People started rushing. I remember the thought that something had happened. Someone had died. It was a hospice after all.
I remember something about people asking other people what room to use.
I don't remember the exact moment someone approached me but I remember knowing what was going on, it came as no surprise. I know it was a woman and she asked me to follow her into a room. It was a small room, similar to an office, but it only had two armchairs and a side table with a phone. We stood in there and I already knew what she was going to tell me. I knew why they were running around, I knew why they took me to that room.
I don't remember how she told me.
I remember my reaction. I didn't have one. I was expecting it. I knew that she had died. I didn't cry. I just nodded. The woman asked me if I wanted to see her. I didn't answer right away. I didn't want to see her. I'd never seen a dead body before. I did think that it was probably the best thing to do though. It was the "respectful" thing to do. So I nodded yes.
She escorted me in and left me there. My mother was lying in the bed. Blanket still on her, she had been sleeping, her eyes were closed. Her lips were blue and open. I had seen them do it in movies, close a person's eyes, and mouth after death. I tried... Her jaw was rigid, it didn't move. It was cold.
I moved to the window and cried. I don't know how long I was there for. My sister was on her way. When she came, I tried to hug her, but she walked straight to my mother.
Days, weeks, months, even years later, I thought about it. She was sleeping, but she was gulping for breath. The nurse was lacking, she should have known she was dying. I should have gone in to see her when she asked me to.
Why were her lips blue? Did she suffocate to death? What was she dreaming about? Did she wake up gasping for air, did she dream about gasping for air or did she pass out first?
__________________________________
I wrote this a year ago or so. I've never had the courage to re-read it and actually post it but I think it's time. After I wrote it, it stopped haunting me. I don't think that publishing it will bring back the hauntings, I think that they'll stay put where they are. I'm glad I wrote it when I did, I'm also glad I didn't publish it. There is a time fore everything. Time to get over my fears. ~My mother died of lung cancer in 2006. She was never a smoker. I still miss her.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Preface to Death
So I've been contemplating whether to post something I wrote a while ago now. It was about a year ago. It was a purge about my mother's death. It helped me get over some things. I wrote it and left it as a draft. I never went back to read it. It sat there, a silent reminder of what I was trying to forget I guess. I wrote it to see if it would get rid of the anxious visions I had before falling asleep at night. I had them for over 5 years. It worked. After I wrote it they stopped. The best thing I've possibly ever used this blog for.
It was written to eventually get posted publicly. I never did get up the courage to post it. I actually never got up the courage to re-read it, but I read Rachel's last post and it made me think of my post. I went back to it and corrected the spelling. It's technically ready to be posted. It's now sitting at the top of my blog post list, still in draft, waiting to be public.
I guess it's time to post it. It's scheduled for tomorrow.
looking for a tip.
Can anyone give me a hand with something?
I want to start answering comments by email. Is there a setting I can use to do that automatically? or do I have to enter each person's profile and do it from there?
***Solution found***
Thanks to everyone for your help, I finally found a solution an old blogger friend told me about.
If you subscribe by email to your own comments (you can find this option in your emailing settings) then you get emails of the comments. If the person has an email attached to their profile you can simply reply to the email. If not there is a "noreply-comment" in the "to" box.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Friendly Confrontation
The search for my own place has not stopped. I am still looking, it's just slow going. I've left my name, number and the details of the kind of place I want at various different agencies but nothing so far has turned up.
I don't have a ton to say in terms of anything much going on with me. Work is busy and will proceed to get busier.
Rob
I have talked to Rob a couple times recently. I guess it was the first two times since my holidays in Croatia. He mentioned he might be on during the weekend but he ended up being busy. He was super sweet and sent me an email on Monday apologizing for not being around and letting me know when he was free this week.
Just as a joke, I wanted to say "marry me" in an email as thanks, and to show my appreciation. I didn't it was a little much. I'm not sure why I liked that particular email so much, but I did. To be honest there was nothing that special about it except, I suppose, his thoughtfulness.
He admitted to having stopped by the blog a few times "just to see what's going on in my head" as he puts it. It's nice to know he's curious about my head, I wish I had some sort of insight into his too.
I have difficulty understanding feelings and the way they work though. People do nice things for me all the time, especially bf. He's constantly doing nice things. Other guy friends too. What is it with our brains that don't really SEE that kindness, they don't appreciate it. When a person we are in love with or have a crush on does something minor it brightens up our day, gives us a warm happy feeling... Why is that?? Why can't we appreciate all kind acts in the same way?
He confronted me nicely during our talk, half-jokingly about why I'm getting my own place. He was sure I just don't have the guts to break up with him. I defended myself immediately, asking him to hear me out. Later, when thinking about what he'd said I decided that I partially agree with him. But I know for sure that it's not the reason why I've decided to move out. I really do need to get some distance between myself and this relationship to understand what it is I want. Maybe I do want to break up with him deep down. But I can't know that without the distance and space.
I managed to convince him of my reasons. But it was nice to have him confront me, get me thinking and even hear myself explain it logically. I even reassured myself.
On a completely different note I want to introduce you to a singer that I've discovered and quite enjoy. She's got a sweet sweet voice and I find her extremely sexy. I'm going to post an original song of hers that I'm addicted to at the moment. I love the fact that it's a mythological story but the song is extremely catchy. This is not her sexiest video by far, but I enjoy the song so much that I figured it was the best choice.
I don't have a ton to say in terms of anything much going on with me. Work is busy and will proceed to get busier.
Rob
I have talked to Rob a couple times recently. I guess it was the first two times since my holidays in Croatia. He mentioned he might be on during the weekend but he ended up being busy. He was super sweet and sent me an email on Monday apologizing for not being around and letting me know when he was free this week.
Just as a joke, I wanted to say "marry me" in an email as thanks, and to show my appreciation. I didn't it was a little much. I'm not sure why I liked that particular email so much, but I did. To be honest there was nothing that special about it except, I suppose, his thoughtfulness.
He admitted to having stopped by the blog a few times "just to see what's going on in my head" as he puts it. It's nice to know he's curious about my head, I wish I had some sort of insight into his too.
I have difficulty understanding feelings and the way they work though. People do nice things for me all the time, especially bf. He's constantly doing nice things. Other guy friends too. What is it with our brains that don't really SEE that kindness, they don't appreciate it. When a person we are in love with or have a crush on does something minor it brightens up our day, gives us a warm happy feeling... Why is that?? Why can't we appreciate all kind acts in the same way?
He confronted me nicely during our talk, half-jokingly about why I'm getting my own place. He was sure I just don't have the guts to break up with him. I defended myself immediately, asking him to hear me out. Later, when thinking about what he'd said I decided that I partially agree with him. But I know for sure that it's not the reason why I've decided to move out. I really do need to get some distance between myself and this relationship to understand what it is I want. Maybe I do want to break up with him deep down. But I can't know that without the distance and space.
I managed to convince him of my reasons. But it was nice to have him confront me, get me thinking and even hear myself explain it logically. I even reassured myself.
On a completely different note I want to introduce you to a singer that I've discovered and quite enjoy. She's got a sweet sweet voice and I find her extremely sexy. I'm going to post an original song of hers that I'm addicted to at the moment. I love the fact that it's a mythological story but the song is extremely catchy. This is not her sexiest video by far, but I enjoy the song so much that I figured it was the best choice.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
My Own Private Mind Fuck.
In a hotel room, first day, first few minutes in the room. My side of the conversation:
"I'm not undressing you this time. I'm not going down on your first. You're gonna have to work for it this time."
*leaning over the desk, in front of the mirror* "Spank me.... Harder. Go on."
*laughing* "is that all you've got?"
*gasping* "you can do better than that."
*panting* "fuck that's good. More please, don't stop... both sides... make me red."
*dripping* "Go down boy, now... slow.... slower" *pushing and pulling away, teasing, creating diversions, kissing, moving, turning, standing, sitting*
"Do you want me?"
"Do you want to fuck me?"
"Am I your little slut?
"Are you going to fuck me like your personal slut?"
"I've been waiting for this for months."
"Fuck me"
"Fuck me"
"Please, please, fuck me"
"Fuck me like the little slut I am"
"I want to feel you deep inside me"
"Use me"
"Hurt me"
"Make me cum"
*whispered in your ear as I cum, almost a whiney beg.* "Make me suck your cock now. I want to taste myself on you"
"I want to lick you clean"
"Make me gag on your cock please."
*coming up for air* "I can't get enough of your cock. I adore your cock." *Diving down for more*
*coming up for air again* "Watch me make you cum. I want you to cum on my face, my tits, my tummy"
*just as you're filling my mouth again* "Cum for me."
*hand on my clit, hand on my nipple, staring up at you from the floor* "Cum on me. You're going to cum on me 'cause I'm your little slut right?"
*licking my fingers clean* "Thank you. That was yummy."
When I have a shower I often meditate. It's my space. A space where I can't hear anything, see anything or really emotionally feel anything. I just have the sensation of warm water running over my body, over my hair, my ears and I think. My mind wanders and I allow myself to get completely lost in thought.
Yesterday I had a shower and my mind went on it's usual rampage, from one topic to the next. Mostly it lingered on a conversation I'd love to have during sex with Rob. I dream of being as good with spoken words as I am writing them. My voice cracks with the slightest hint of emotion, whether that be embarrassment, sadness, anger, heat... whatever, it cracks and I hate it. It somehow externalizes emotions I'd rather hide. I want to overcome those emotions by letting the words out, but they crack under the weight of that emotion and I fear saying them for how they will sound. Weak. I could whisper at first. That would keep things more solid I think, at least to start... then I think it would ease up.
"I'm not undressing you this time. I'm not going down on your first. You're gonna have to work for it this time."
*leaning over the desk, in front of the mirror* "Spank me.... Harder. Go on."
*laughing* "is that all you've got?"
*gasping* "you can do better than that."
*panting* "fuck that's good. More please, don't stop... both sides... make me red."
*dripping* "Go down boy, now... slow.... slower" *pushing and pulling away, teasing, creating diversions, kissing, moving, turning, standing, sitting*
"Do you want me?"
"Do you want to fuck me?"
"Am I your little slut?
"Are you going to fuck me like your personal slut?"
"I've been waiting for this for months."
"Fuck me"
"Fuck me"
"Please, please, fuck me"
"Fuck me like the little slut I am"
"I want to feel you deep inside me"
"Use me"
"Hurt me"
"Make me cum"
*whispered in your ear as I cum, almost a whiney beg.* "Make me suck your cock now. I want to taste myself on you"
"I want to lick you clean"
"Make me gag on your cock please."
*coming up for air* "I can't get enough of your cock. I adore your cock." *Diving down for more*
*coming up for air again* "Watch me make you cum. I want you to cum on my face, my tits, my tummy"
*just as you're filling my mouth again* "Cum for me."
*hand on my clit, hand on my nipple, staring up at you from the floor* "Cum on me. You're going to cum on me 'cause I'm your little slut right?"
*licking my fingers clean* "Thank you. That was yummy."
___________________________________
When I have a shower I often meditate. It's my space. A space where I can't hear anything, see anything or really emotionally feel anything. I just have the sensation of warm water running over my body, over my hair, my ears and I think. My mind wanders and I allow myself to get completely lost in thought.
Yesterday I had a shower and my mind went on it's usual rampage, from one topic to the next. Mostly it lingered on a conversation I'd love to have during sex with Rob. I dream of being as good with spoken words as I am writing them. My voice cracks with the slightest hint of emotion, whether that be embarrassment, sadness, anger, heat... whatever, it cracks and I hate it. It somehow externalizes emotions I'd rather hide. I want to overcome those emotions by letting the words out, but they crack under the weight of that emotion and I fear saying them for how they will sound. Weak. I could whisper at first. That would keep things more solid I think, at least to start... then I think it would ease up.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Lemon-ginger and Honey
It's creeping back in. That darkness between the bubbles... Remember? Like the painting. Speaking of which I should post another picture of, I did some more work in it a while back.
No matter what, I'll still go through these phases of darkness. Even when I have my own place. I'm writing this to remind myself... I'm capable of trying to convince myself that it'll be all sun and fun when I get an apartment.
When winter rolls round and the weather turns, i turn too. Work helps. Keeping busy helps.
Today reminds me of the day in that cafe in Camden town. It was pouring and I was sipping lemon ginger tea with honey while writing in my journal. I wrote him a letter that I never sent. It got used though, portions of it were stitched together to write the email I finally sent him. It was my realization that I loved him. For the first time I decided that it was ok to admit it to myself, and therefore also to him.
Today, a dreary rainy day, I sit and sip the same ginger lemon tea with honey and it brings back memories.
The tea is somewhat symbolic of this relationship if you think about it. Ginger being spicy, lemon being fragrant and sour, honey is of course smooth, thick and sweet.
Spice = sex
Lemon = distance
Honey = love
It's the perfect concoction for those cool rainy days.
No matter what, I'll still go through these phases of darkness. Even when I have my own place. I'm writing this to remind myself... I'm capable of trying to convince myself that it'll be all sun and fun when I get an apartment.
When winter rolls round and the weather turns, i turn too. Work helps. Keeping busy helps.
Today reminds me of the day in that cafe in Camden town. It was pouring and I was sipping lemon ginger tea with honey while writing in my journal. I wrote him a letter that I never sent. It got used though, portions of it were stitched together to write the email I finally sent him. It was my realization that I loved him. For the first time I decided that it was ok to admit it to myself, and therefore also to him.
Today, a dreary rainy day, I sit and sip the same ginger lemon tea with honey and it brings back memories.
The tea is somewhat symbolic of this relationship if you think about it. Ginger being spicy, lemon being fragrant and sour, honey is of course smooth, thick and sweet.
Spice = sex
Lemon = distance
Honey = love
It's the perfect concoction for those cool rainy days.
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