Pussy vs. Balls

My best friend sent me a text last night asking "if dudes can say 'bros before hos'  can we say "twats before cocks"?  I say we gals start a movement.  Seriously, if that is how they see us, we should return the favor. 

So often you hear "grow a pair" or "you got balls"  or some kind of similar phrasing that links testicles to strength and bravery.  Even I have been known to use such colloquialisms.  But as I have been in the 'dating' scene for about a year now.... I have to say, these men need to grow pussies.  Those of us with them are brave and strong and sure.  We put ourselves out there.  Hoping we won't get hurt, knowing perfectly well we just might get hurt no matter what.  Men seem all too obliged to prove us right on the latter. 

I want to tell the men who have just stopped talking to me:  No good-bye, no argument, no "I'm not interested"  Or even "Um... whore, go away"  Usually I would say "grow some fucking balls and tell me"  but you know what.... I think they need to grow pussies.  Find the strength to be honest.  Disappearing messes with us more.... or is that your point?  You want us to sit and wonder what we did wrong?  Were you in a car accident?  Or are you just a complete fucking asshole?  To care so little for women is a disgrace.  It's emotionally abusive.  It's just mean and makes you look like a jerk.

I think it is a simple request I make when I start seeing someone:  if you are not interested, or change your mind, or decide to go back to your wife and kids, tell me.  I am not a shrinking violet.  I am not a dude with my dick waving in the wind and withering.  I am a woman, and I have the pussy you could have had.  But instead, you have balls, and THAT apparently makes you a fucking coward.

STFU

Mr is fully aware that my mother just broke her two month old titanium knee.  Mr knows that she was going into surgery.  I am not at home, I am watching a friend's kids.  I called Mr to give the most recent update on my mother.  He talked about his enjoyment of the quiet then shoed me off the phone so he could eat his dinner.  " I was just nuking my dinner when you called.  I'm kinda hungry... so I'm going to eat before it gets cold. "  Thanks for your concern Mr.  STU.

From my mom...

I meant to post this a while ago. Seems to almost be inappropriate under the circumstances... but here it is anyway. This is a copy and paste (with names changed to protect the 'innocent') from an e-mail from my mother...

.teach yourself to live like Mr is just a renter who pays the rent.  Treat him like someone who just lives there, kind of like it seems that he treats you.
One can sleep in the same bed with no connection......or get twin beds.  That way you can have air blowing on you in the summer and it won't bother him.
You can leave him notes as to what you want him to do so he can't say---I didn't know.
If you can detach yourself emotionally as much as possible and live your life as you would like.  Go have an affair......everyone needs emotional support and you are not going to get it at home.  You deserve to be loved.  Just be careful!
Am I really saying this???????????????

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Forward

Been a few day.  Been kinda manic.

I met a man and I like him.  I shouldn't.  He seems to have hang ups that don't seem right to me. I will call him PJ.  He apparently used to be quite the racist.  SS lightning bolts tattoo and everything.  Those seem to be covered up now (haven't looked) but I met him through a mutual friend who is black.  He uses words I would never use.  I have never heard him use the N word, or the C word.  But have been told he has been known to at least use the C word.  The story goes that there is a transgendered in the group... He is on hormones to be She.  PJ more often than not uses the masculine name for Transgender than the feminine.  PJ called Transgender a Cunt.  Not cool man, not cool at all.

But PJ now will not talk to me.  He won't even acknowledge me.  Which is just dumb and immature.  Why do men have to be so dumb and immature?  He was a PJ in the Air Force.  He is a prison guard for the State.  You would think that he would be tougher than this.  Wiser.  Whatever.  He needs a big rack for all the issues he has.  And I don't want to sort them out.

fanfreakintastic

(this was written a week ago, and held in draft until now)

Mr couldn't get out of bed this morning.  He was too tired, too exhausted to do anything but call in sick and go back to sleep.  He slept until10 this morning.  He may have been awake earlier than that, but he stayed in bed. 
When it first became obvious that he wasn't getting up, I went to The Teens room to wake him for his shower and such.  He said he wasn't going to shower so he could sleep.  He walked himself to school.  I got Little Man dressed, got the boys lunches made, and headed out to commute Little Man to school.  After dropping him off, I headed to free wi-fi and got phone numbers for Mr's work and came home to see if I needed to call in for him.  I did not.  Mr was still in bed, and I watched TV.  Mr got up as I was readying myself for work.  We chatted for a bit.  When it was time for me to leave, I went to give him a kiss goodbye (as I always do) and he put his hands on my hips and tried to hold me there...but I backed away.  Am I cruel?  I do not want his affection anymore.  It always seems to me to be this forced action, or a desperate attempt to be what he thinks I want him to be. And I did want him to be that.  I fought for years for him to come out and be more affectionate, more passionate.  But he always said he couldn't.  Wouldn't.  So I stopped trying, stopped expecting, stopped wanting.  Started looking elsewhere. 

Even my mother as conservative and haggish as she can be, told me to go out and have an affair.  Do I take motherly advice?

I am working on my escape plan.  Trying to find work that will allow me to move out on my own.  It is a terrifying thought.  Leaving my boys.  But Mr is the one with a good income.  I wouldn't be making much more than $2,000 a month.  Not a whole lot for room, board, and kids.  The teen is less than a year from being 18 so he wouldn't be much of a factor in the whole custody thing.  But Little Man is only 6.  And a special 6 at that.  He is autistic.  Change of routine upsets him greatly.  I fear his reaction.  I truly do.  But I need to be less miserable so that I can enjoy my time with him and The Teen as much as possible.  Why does it have to be so complicated?

The impossible carrier

I know the following "illness" is not possible, yet I feel like I am some sort of carrier for Erectile Dysfunction. Five of the last six guys I have blown went soft in the middle of it.  At least two of them were kind enough to try to explain it wasn't my fault.  And even though that is sweet, the odds are against me.  Five of six is...83%. ( I googled that shit, as bad as I am at giving head, I am worse at getting math)  Uh... it looks like I'm bad at blow jobs.  The one of the six that did not go soft said "there is nothing wrong with your technique"  So, it's them, right?  Is ED really so prevalent?   For one guy, it happened only once, and he admitted it was the sudden realization of who was pleasuring him.  One was always drunk....another guy, no excuse, nor recognition of the problem.  Most recent said he wasn't feeling great before it, and was concentrating on not feeling horrible.   Then there is Mr.  He blames stress, medication, age, multiple sclerosis (which he prob doesn't have) or any number of other things.  He will not get it looked into.  He can't even tell when he loses his erection.  That can't be good.  We are in the middle of sex.  I am giving him my all....and he loses it.  Gone... and he doesn't know.  I don't know if that is ok or not.  I don't think it is.  The problem frustrates him... but he won't get it looked at.  The problem used to scare me.  It doesn't anymore.  I don't have the energy for him and his ways anymore. 


It is really hard to not feel like you are failing at something when you have negative reactions 83% of the time.  And though I know the ability to blow someone to orgasm should not be the basis of my self esteem.... it sure doesn't help. 

So the loss of Mr's erection in the middle of sex happened last night.  This has happened countless times in the last two years.  But last night... he lost it, and I asked, "did you seriously just lose your erection?"  he said "Did I?  I can never tell"  he had.  So disengaged the sex and laid next to him.  I got up to pee and when I came back to bed, he got up, got dressed and went outside for a cigarette.  I went to talk to him.  I knew he was upset.  But I had no words of comfort for him.  He said he hardly knew who I was anymore.  He said I was seeming out of control  He is stressed to the max at work.  He is really struggling with it.  I said "And having a crazy wife isn't helping".  He said "I was trying not to say that."  well, if it's true, say it.  Problems can not be solved if they are not talked about.  Hold it all in and it will tear you apart.  Tear us apart more than we already have been.  But whatever.  He hasn't been able to talk to me for 18 years.  Why should he start now.

Symptom or trigger?

Does it really matter?  A lack of good restful sleep.  It can cause a hypo-manic episode.  It can also be a symptom of said episode.  Either way, the two go hand in hand.  So if I find myself not sleeping well, I check my mood.  Am I getting ill again?  If my mood seems out of whack, I look at my sleep pattern.  The stupid thing is, it doesn't do anything for me to check these things.  I am tired and hypo-manic.  The only thing my knowing those facts means.... is that I know these facts.  The knowledge doesn't alleviate the the lack of sleep or the mania.  Time is the only thing that does that.  Though, knowing I am 'Ill' again means I can tell people I am ill.  Other people knowing I am sick, I think, helps them to forgive me.  Forgive my behavior.  Forgive my grouchiness.  I don't think it really helps them to not be hurt by my actions, but at least they can blame my illness and not me.  Well, a bit anyway. 

The foe with no name (except it did have a name)

I am a cheater and a liar.  I try to be honest, but it has usually gotten me nowhere but in trouble.  So... fuck it.  Lie to get what I want, avoid what I don't want.

I don't want to spend time in the house just to be ignored.  I am not saying that I must be the center of attention, ick.  But I would like to feel.... I don't know... enjoyed at least.  Mr has a routine for everything.  The mornings getting ready for work.  The evenings when he comes home.  Night time when it's bed time for Little Man, and even later when it is Mr's turn to go to bed.  Between each routine, he sits at the computer and reads forums on old tools.  I am sure there are other blogs and forums that he reads, but mostly just old tools.  He checks out his facebook... and plays Spider Solitaire.  If I try to bring up a conversation with him, I have always felt like I am just an interruption.  Whether this is how he feels about it or not is, of course, unclear.  So, I lie and say I need to go out to do some writing, or I am going to my support group, or going to hang out at my BFF's.  Only to try to see another guy.

In 2010, I started spending more time with a guy I have known since The Teen was in Kindergarten.  Always liked the guy.  He was gruff, and funny, and warm, and different.  He also had a great laugh and piercing blue eyes.  Q's marriage was in trouble.  I couldn't believe it.  They had always seemed so happy.  They had recently taken a family trip across the country for a family reunion.  Turns out, she was texting her extra marital through the whole trip.  At the time, I thought she was bitchy.  How could she not want Q?  But she didn't.  There was something missing, and she wanted or needed it enough to seek it from someone else.  Now I get it. I don't know what she wasn't getting or what she found, but I get it.  Q and I kissed.  A little peck on the cheek, then on the lips...and eventually, those kisses on the lips lingered and became almost painfully desired by me.  The first time Q and I truly sat together and kissed and cuddled, and let our tongues seek out and find each other's.  I whimpered.  It was... embarrassing. It was...awesome.  For 15+ years, my marriage was made up of routines that ruled every aspect of Mr's life.  Waking up, going to work, breaks at work, coming home... EVERYTHING... yes, including sex.

Q showed me that it didn't have to be routine.  That I could feel wanted.  It was amazing, and terrifying, and exhilarating, and wrong in how right it felt.  I was more comfortable with him than I can remember being with anyone.  Even Mr.... even in the beginning.  But reality set in, and Q started feeling guilty and left me.  Alone, in a passionless marriage.  We never had sex.  Q wouldn't let it get that far.  We had been planning an overnight out of town.  He walked away a week and a half before that.  We might not have had sex, but the damage was done.  I knew that I was a desirable woman.  I knew that a guy could want me enough to push me up against a wall and kiss me deep and hard.  It was possible for a man to accept my desires and feel confident enough to show me his.  It really was a very heady experience.  Q closed to door on us, but opened the flood gates for me.  I wanted to be desired like that.... mostly by Mr.  I tried again (and still) to bring out such openess with Mr, but he just wouldn't let go and relax or have confidence.  I learned so much from Mr that winter.  It caused me despair.  I wanted passion, I wanted connection, I wanted true intimacy. I couldn't get it.  Mr couldn't provide it.  "I have asperger's.  I can't...." "you're asking me to change the core of who I am"  "I think you are judging me against every other lover you have had..."

Wait... WHAT?  Are you KIDDING ME?  Is this why you are so shy in bed?  Is this why you seem to drift off to some other place when we are having sex?

"yes"

And you have felt like this all along?

"yes"

YOU SON OF A BITCH!  All these years that I have been trying to connect with you, trying to draw you to me.... asked you what was wrong, where you were going in your head.... and you said 'i don't know' you were lying?  You knew?

"yes"

FUCK YOU.
I was furious.  I was fighting a battle that he knew the name of, and hid it from me.  He was afraid I would leave him.  He didn't trust me.  He says he did, does... but I said, "if you knew what was going on, didn't tell me because you thought I would leave you, you didn't trust that I would try to work it out.  You didn't trust that I would stay.  You don't trust that I love you"

"But I do trust you.... I trust you love me"

"your actions say something completely different"

I am still furious.  He knew the answer to a 10 year emotional battle and kept it from me.  Watched me try desperately to work it out, figure it out, connect with him.... all the while he knew what it was, and just watched me flounder.  I realize (and try to be compassionate) about the the fact that this is all his insecurity.  But ... it feels like he was gaslighting me.  It feels like abuse.  It is abuse.

Insecurity.  The foe's name that I didn't know but he did.