Category Archives: Friday Confessions
It’s been a long time since I’ve done a Friday Confessions post, and it’s very much overdue.
I’m fucking terrified.
The wedding nightmares have begun. They’re stupid little things, but enough to get under my skin…
- My Bat Shit Crazy sister showing up and ruining everything.
- My Bat Shit Crazy sister showing up and convincing Finn to call it all off
- Being left at the alter
- Murphy’s Law (anything that can go wrong, WILL go wrong)
- Families not getting along
- Uninvited guests
- Kids being holy terrors, and the parents doing nothing about it
Sooo, yeah. Not only does wedding anxiety plague me during the day, it’s invading my dreams as well.
I haven’t posted in a while, because things have gone a bit… haywire…
I’ve talked to the guy I met Saturday night every day since. It’s been a crazy whirlwind of emotions.
Hurt (the situation with Scott), confusion (Scott and liking the new guy), guilt (for liking the new guy), and finally, joy (new guy).
I feel guilty for going out and doing what Scott told me to do. He’s aware that I’ve been talking to New Guy, and is encouraging it.
**Huge sigh of relief**
Earlier this evening, Scott told me to go ahead and make plans for tomorrow night. Am I hearing this correctly? My brand new ex-boyfriend is telling me to set up a date with New Guy? I know I’ve said it before, but WTF is going on with my life?
This is a **huge** confession for me. I haven’t told a lot of people this…
I told Scott early on in our relationship, within the first week. So, of course, the idea of having a three-some has been tossed around. It’s not so much that he wants to join in, but wants to watch.
OK. Fair enough.
We both agree that it would have to be someone we both agree on, no penetration on the other female, among a few other things.
I’m honestly still not sure if I can go through with it. I have trust issues. I have self esteem issues.
Up until two months ago, I could honestly say I had never gone farther than making out with another girl. Since hanging out at the bar I’ve been felt up (and felt up a few myself), in the middle of the bar, in full view of everyone, and on camera. I’ve also been violated in the ladies room. (WTF has happened to my life?!?)
On NYE, I was hanging out with a guy I went to school with and his fuck buddy, and she was all over me. No big, right? Until I had to pee, and asked her to come with. She threatened to violate me. Me, being the Queen of Overshare, said “Oh, no, I’m not being violated in that bathroom again“. Everyone in the vicinity: “Again“?!?
I don’t fully get it. I’m constantly having men ask me if they can buy me a drink (I do, occasionally, say “no”), and flirting with me. I have guys and girls slapping my ass, and girls feeling me up. Is Bozo right? I don’t see myself clearly?
At this rate, Scott will have his three-some before his birthday.
Last night, Scott and I were lying in bed, watching Bones (if you’ve never seen it, you’ve gotta try to catch at least one episode), and I felt this little “click” in my head as he pulled me closer.
Oh, shit. This is Scott. Why was I ever worried? He’d never do anything to purposely hurt me. He really does love me. How on earth did I ever get so lucky?
I tucked in closer to him, and had never felt warmer, safer, more loved or protected as I did in that moment.
Scott. The man that took a huge gamble on me. Why? He saw something special in me. I’m only now seeing this. He choose me. Me, out of all those other women that vied for his attention. Me, whom he’d only just met. Damn, I must be special.
Truth is, I still don’t know what makes me special, what made me stand out. But I did. I may never know or understand why he chose me, but now I can accept it.
Is this what was lacking in my previous relationships? My own confidence? Somehow, I doubt that.
I was cheated on. Once I can 100% without a doubt verify. The other? The attempt to rebuild our relationship was telling. He chose another woman over me. Being cheated on, it truly messes with you.
Why wasn’t I good enough for him?
I just feel like last night, and the past week or so in general, has impacted me. I’m starting to feel confidence again. I may not be a beauty queen, but in his eyes, I’m beautiful, and the happiness he brings me brings my “beauty” to the surface.
I posted this on Facebook a couple of days ago, and one of my friends responded with the following…
I hope this doesn’t come across as mean but when you were with STBXH I never thought you were outwardly, traditionally beautiful but I have seen you blossom! The pics I see of you lately are gorgeous! I can see you’re happy, you’re smiling, you’re vibrant and beautiful! I think happiness makes all the difference. You are a beautiful person inside and outside, and I for one, am so glad you have found what makes you happy! Miss you, BTW.
I think her post is, in part, where my new sense of confidence came from.
Scott and I got into a little bit of an argument yesterday…
I finally talked to him about what’s been bothering me… STBXH’s confession about his fantasy life. He doesn’t understand why I was upset by it. For five years, I wasn’t good enough for STBXH. It took a serious hit to my already barely there self esteem.
By the time we got home, we’d talked it through, while Scott still doesn’t fully understand, we’ve worked through it. Our arguments never last long, and always leave me feeling closer to him.
It’ll be a daily struggle, but I’m slowly pulling myself out of this depression. I’m just blessed to have someone that understands and gives me what I need in order to heal.
It’s been four months since I uprooted myself and moved in with Scott, but I still wake up some mornings in disbelief that I did. Those are the mornings that I have to look over at Scott to make sure it wasn’t just a dream.
It’s been a lot to get used to. A new city, a new school for Z, a new house, a new routine, basically a whole new life. Z’s adjusted amazingly, while there are still days here and there that I have to stop and think for a moment.
There was one day last month, Z was with his father and Scott was at work, so I was home alone. I was walking from our bedroom to the bathroom, but completely bypassed the bathroom and ended up in the kitchen. I stood there for a moment and thought to myself “I’m in the wrong house.” I have no clue where that thought came from.
I still think of my old life, and since it’s October, the memories are hard to avoid. One of my friends even asked me about a ghost tour in the Historic District. I volunteered to give them a tour myself, since I pretty much know the Historic District like the back of my hand.
I don’t have regrets about leaving, but more so the research I did on the history of the house and property. I poured myself into research to find out as much as I could, but now it just feels wasted.
In my last post, I wrote about how Scott and I met, but left a lot out. Honestly, I left enough out to fill a book. It’s less of a one night thing, and more of a week long thing.
The night we met, a friend of mine had taken me out to the bar to get me out of the house, because yet again, my husband and I got into a fight. Common occurrence. I’d already given up at that point, I needed time and space, but he wasn’t giving it to me. He’d pulled a 180 on me. I guess he sensed a change in me, because before that, he only noticed me when I wasn’t there.
Rewind a day or two.
I’m 31 years old, with two sons. Up until two nights before I met Scott, I’d NEVER had a “Girl’s Night Out.” That’s what spurned the fight that fateful Sunday.
The night we met he overheard the conversation between my friend and I, realizing how bad it was for me at home. He said that night that if it weren’t for my kids, I would have gone home with him. He added me on Facebook so I could talk to him “if I ever needed him.”
The next night, we met up at the bar, he held me close, danced with me, took me for a ride in his car, and kissed me goodnight as he helped me into my friend’s truck. I’ll never forget standing on my front porch, asking my friend if I “smelled like a man.”
Tuesday night, everything shifted. It went from “no one can tell STBXH” to “move in with me.” I fell for him that night. Even more so the next day when he came into the hospital to be with me when my son was in the emergency room.
Thursday, Oh, Thursday. He picked me up for work, while my husband was home.
Somehow, on Friday it went from “I’ll be out within a month, month and a half,” to “Tonight’s my last night here”.
Yes, it happened that quickly. I left my husband of three years, for a man 22years older than me, that I’d known less than a week. That I met at a bar.