It's such a pretty day

I am on little sleep at the moment. After a long night of keeping an eye on a drunk (which he'd never do for me. I always had to deal with the aftermath of a bad night on my own.), and a cranky toddler who just wanted to sleep in her mommy's bed, here I am.

It's in the low 90s and all I wanted to do was the plan. Take her out. Have a nice day OUT.
But you fucked it up. You got shit faced. AGAIN and ruined plans. AGAIN.
I tolerated the morning. Let you mope around and drag ass.
It was almost 4, Jaiden had napped, you spent all morning on the computer after an hour out with my brother. so I ask if you want to take her for ice cream. "No...my stomach."
Really?
I'm not asking for you. It's for her.
So. I went alone. "We'll leave Daddy here by himself" was all I said.

She needs to be outside.
We plopped into McDonlads first but the PlayPlace there was too much for little lovey. So I got her some fries, which she ate most of, some apple juice, she made googly eyes at some customers, wanted to go play with kids who were with their family and had about 4 years on her.
And then my Dad offered to take her to the park.
I said "Swings? Slides? Kids? Sure. Why not."

I return home and where is he?
Asleep.

But it's such a beautiful day and I won't let you ruin it.
So I'll relax and wait for her to return, then get her ice cream like I said I would.
Took a couple pictures of her at McDs.
She got ketchup all over my shirt. :)

Love my kid.

I know

I always know when somethings wrong. I knew the first time and when confronted, he lied. So I expected no different when it looked like it was happening again. It's not a habit. But when the feeling strikes. I look. And both times I was right.

It's 3.14Am now and I'm still uneasy. Why? Vegas is coming. I watched him get drunk tonight and heard him say it's what he does when he's away. He spends most of his time when he's not working, drunk. Only need 4 hours of recovery time. I don't doubt it's what he does. But the reminder of San Francisco and Los Angeles weighs heavier as the time draws nearer.
Will it happen again?
Someone new?
Someone not?
Will I know?

I'm upset at the wrong time for something I can't help and nothing can reassure me. Not even him because he's lied so many fucking times it's beyond forgiveness. I live with fear not love in my heart.
I want the strength to face this and I can't.
Every waking day that void grows and the pain fills it.
Are you that lonely?
Are you that needy?
Greedy? Selfish?

What is it that compels you that you can't face?
What drives you beyond knowing you've got it fucking MADE and you want more?

You're in pain right now and I hope it hurts ... Really hurts. It's upsetting who put you there because all he becomes is someone in my family for you to ill speak and hate... Someone for you to avoid.
But I hope this pain stays with you. Til I inflict my own that resides in you. It should be a constant and painful reminder of every lie, every wanton thought that wasn't for me while with me. Every text. Every call. Every picture. Every secret meeting.
I want it to hurt you for twice as long as you've hurt me.

And I want you to know why.
Because I know.

Sent from my iPhone

Fabricated

You're so pretty on the outside
Easy on the eyes
It would be simple to fall for you
To not see your lies
Your voice like satin
Wrap me in their embrace
I'd be lost in your kiss
Your venom. No taste
Safety a folly
You're the safest between us
Because no matter your lengths
There'd be no trust
As fake as your words
Your heart knows its fate; jaded
I won't find out fast enough
Just how much you're fabricated.

...I don't know why I wrote that but I'm too cool to delete it. Lol.
Sent from my iPhone

Utter clutter

That's how I've felt today in my head. So messy and unmanageable. Very soon it will be four years since my ex and I broke up. We didn't talk for quite some time in between. I genuinely loved and cared for him. I know I'll delve onto a post about him sooner or later .. My minds a twisted myriad of crap at the moment. He calls and checks up on me now and then. Yesterday being one if those days. We don't talk on a regular basis at all. But when I felt myself falling into the deep despair before I knew her, he was the one I would ..'try' to reach out to. Not for advice, not even for comfort. But to listen. My verbal beating post. Because sometimes.
I get tired of my own voice.
I get tired of the things it says in my head.
I get tired of over analyzing.
He just started seeing someone. The first real one after me. She's managed to move in already too. He says she's good for him. To him. She really cares and loves him and he doesn't want to mess that up. I think he shouldn't want to either. Over the last few months I should say, I'd seen him twice. He's been over while Chris is at work and never stays long. The few texts. The calls. He'd started to keep them from her. Til I let him realize.. If she did it to him, he wouldn't take too lightly to it.
Chris... Has too many exes to count. He's introduced me to 1 while we were friends and 2 while we were dating. Heh imagine that right....
Introduce the old to the new...
I felt stupid both times. The first one while we were dating thought I didn't like her. She spent no time with me to come up with that deduction. The second one filled me in about how much they talked about me like I was broken and in need of fixing.
I've proven myself and my faithfulness time and time again so .. But for the sake of the new relationship Mike is in. Despite the fact he says it feels like she smothers him. I keep my distance...
We agreed that there was to be no check ins or check ups. Nothing hidden from his current beau.
But today he asks of my plans for Friday. I have none. I have no car. No money. And a toddler. I ask why. He said he wanted to stop by. I take the opportunity to remind him that we can't have it unless he plans to tell his girlfriend.

Silence.
He catches me on AIM and says he fell asleep.
I ask if he got my reply. He hadn't.
I would be upset if the roles were reversed and Chris did this to me. But he's done worse. In my time if need I was neglected. I was lied to over and over again. Misled and misused. I feel bad for having my ex here. Not for Chris .. I just know my own hurt. I'm not saying he deserves it. But I didn't either.

I don't know if I'll see him tomorrow.
It may bother me if I do.
But everybody needs somebody. Sometimes.

Sent from my iPhone

My girlfriend

It's actually the title of a song by a band he loves. We actually have a similar taste in music but mine is more diversified. I enjoy country. Industrial. Instrumental. Classical. Big band. But when I hear that song above. I often wonder. If asked... "tell me about her.. What's she like? What do you like about her? Why are you with her?.. " what would he say? I've more often than not been someone to be highly spoken. Proud of. Appreciated. I was good at everything I put my mind to. School. Work. Any goal I had.

Would he be proud to talk about me?

Would he express true feelings in his words or would they be yet another facade ... ?
As life progresses.. I find that if it gets easier, it gets boring. If there's bumps. If it's hard. It requires work. Maintenance. It's mite enjoyable that way ... But only if you're willing. Able. The 'ready' part will have to come when it may because 'being ready' is a made up state of mind.

"..my girlfriend.."
I know he doesn't talk about me. Like tonight. He said the woman he was working with kept telling him how beautiful our daughter was. And he kinda threw in a " how beautiful you are" in...
He doesn't have any pictures of me worth showing for someone to make such a comment. I was sad for that moment.
You know how they say men feel neglected when they have a child and the mothers attention is focused on the child and not him? Its how I feel at times. Our daughter is his only possession worth speaking about.
He used to have a habit of forgetting me in the past if he's talking to people. It was always "..I'm with my daughter so I'll have to get back to you ." or "I'll try to get a sitter and let you know" or "I couldn't make it because Jaiden kept me up all night" or any number of excuses along those lines that suggested you've dedicated all your time to her and giving the other person the idea of you being a single father.

"my girlfriend.."
You forget how sympathetic I am to your needs after a long day or a hectic week. How caring I am if you're sick. But it never gets reciprocated. You've never come home and ask me how MY day was ....
Or if I need anything.

"my girlfriend"
Who am I to you? Just the person who cooks. Cleans. Takes care of the bills. Our child. Am I a roommate with benefits? I asked that before and was told "no." ... But when I give so much and get so little in return... I feel robbed.

"my girlfriend."
I want to be someone you can brag about. I'm not hot but I'm not hideous. You never tell me "hey.. You look nice today."
When we go out, I dress to impress. I like looking good. I rarely wear make up and in the past I never have. Now... I see the marks of time under my eyes. The stress on my nose and forehead. The weight of everything I carry inside and out residing in my back.

"my girlfriend"... Is doing more than she should and you acknowledge the fact that all you do is pay for things. You do nothing else. Next to nothing. I suppose I can draw attention to the fact you take the garbage out if I ask. You change, feed, bathe Jaiden if I ask and remind you two or three times after.

I wish you really did treat me like a girlfriend. I'd probably have more fun. I'd feel better. I'd feel safer. I'd see a future for us.

Sent from my iPhone

I can be your Superman

As a daughter, an only daughter, an elder of a young brother, I was the apple of my father's eye. As a baby, I had my own tumbles with babe-ality. My eyes were always a problem. After surgery at a young age, I went on with life with the same desire I had, 8 years ago. From what I was told, I had my own brush with what you would call 'imaginary' or 'fraudulent'. I look back on it as something I overcame without doing much at all.
My parents were put together through their own fairy tale story, which I'll never get tired of hearing, but as a child, you're privy to majority of the good things in your parents life. They shield you from the bad, the unwanted. When it comes down to really thinking about it, I know a story, not THE story, of their beginning. And that's beyond me.
As a child, I watched two outwardly beautiful people, arm in arm, celebrity dressed with the fame to follow the classy threads they frequently outed with.
As a child, I would enjoy the countless hours of simply being a child. Lost outside for majority of the day with friends who were on the same exploratory trail I was. We were young, and interested in everything outside had to offer.
Behind closed doors as the years rolled by and I aged into the creature I am now, I saw love turn to resent, to hate. To something that lay dormant now, 30 years later between the pair many came to know and love.
The stories of infidelity whispered but never voiced out loud, and as the low tier on the totem pole, where no one would see ..I heard.
The fights that subsided for whatever the reason.
The constant phone calls.
The callous words.

The dreams that came.

It all affected me so dramatically. more than I wanted to admit it did.
But through it all, I never like it diminish that my father, was still my father. I looked up to him. I respected him. I loved him.

Genetics have been oh, so favorable to them both, and then in turn to us. We don't look our ages. But the body is as old as the body is. It will feel the toll of the years it's passed. My father was always a hard worker, a great provider, a proud man.
Many looked up to him. He was highly praised for all the good he's done, all the time, money and things he'd given so freely. If Karma saw him, she'd cry. He was always a giving man.
But an angry man.
My brother is now the splitting image of his personality, ten fold. It has to be his way or no way at all. They're leaders, not followers. Commanding and demanding. Stubborn and pigheaded.
Aggressive and masculine.

But I'm not here to harp on my Dad.
I'm beginning to face the fact that despite his always being there for me, strong, supportive, immortal in my eyes, he isn't.
When I was called to get him from work,every pain I hear that he says he has or his inability to do something. makes me realize that one day, hopefully not a day soon, that I may lose him. And that's a reality all too hard for me to deal with.
Being in this country for as long as we have, and for the years he's worked as hard as he has, they've never had health are benefits. Why? Spent a long time working under the table or health insurance was almost the entire paycheck. Unattainable.
He's always been a man of manual labor. Not an office type. An early riser. A go getter.
Always on time. Always ready and prepared.

With all the crap I deal with on a daily basis in my own life, I can't face the sound of hearing I am in for more loss. Not yet.
I can't lose my Superman to his Kryptonite.

Make me bad..

The past few weeks have been nothing short of a typical 'rollercoaster ride' as it were. I used to believe, that if I had nothing to hide, nothing could hurt me, haunt me. Come back and bite me in the ass. Don't get me wrong, if I needed to cover my tracks about something, I could, no doublt about it.
Bu in the wake of the last few weeks, I've...found out about a hidden 'friend' he met. Found and erased pictures of said 'friend'. Stole her number and went after her like some crazed bloodhound. Fear, my wheelman, anger, my passenger, steadily badgering the driver to go ...faster...don't stop...run the lights, swerve past the cars, screw the damn pedestrians. JUST. GO.
I was met with some unnerving truths, and then some.

I'd gone from having nothing to hide, to hiding it all.
Kept my cellphone on lock down (which I need to do for the new one) and I rarely leave my web pages up. Why?
The truth?
I was writing, bit by bit today as my daughter napped. So amidst a few other tabs, the paragraph lay. I had a few others up. I had gotten up to go put her on the bed to sleep and when I returned, my stomach was in my throat for all of 3 seconds. 3 slow, painfully gnawing seconds. He was sitting in my chair. At my desk. Reading. I maintained my cool. Walked around and...low and behold. It was the webpage of the news I'd left up.
I stepped across to make as if I was cleaning up toys, and hoped for the love of all things shiny and new, and perhaps squeaky, that he'd take no notice to the other pages above.
I'll ever so often still throw out to him that he can look in my phone, but I know he won't.

Before I got my new phone I had pictures saved on there that he wasn't supposed to know I had. I hadn't erased them yet because I hadn't emailed them to myself. And he begged...and I said no.

After I replaced it, I wanted to see if I could get the some odd 1200 pictures off the memory card onto the new phone ...
I have on occasion taken semi and nude photos of myself, just not my face, to send to him when he's gone out of state.
I actually sent him some while he was in San Fransisco. Drunk off his ass, no less.
In forgetting that I'd already erased the 'evidence' (the hidden pictures he had on his phone) ..I spazzed a bit when he wanted to see the other pictures I had. I didn't know what I had or hadn't erased by then. Too much was happening and I was lost in the spiral of it all. I don't know what he thought. Other than the obvious. I had something to hide. The look he gave me as I pried the memory card out his hand was almost priceless.
I loved it and hated it in the same breath.
But I'm entitled to these secrets. You have yours.
I hate the fact that I need to have secrets, but you make me bad.