Pink Sheets

Thursday, August 26, 2004

No Expectations

The first three months I expected nothing but affection. I received his sweet emails, he took me to dinner and out to The Balcony on the weekends. We went to the park, just to kiss. We kissed for hours in the park and I felt like I could kiss him for days, with out stopping, even for breath.

By six months, I expected his affection, but now I also wanted his time. Time without regard to the actual time. Time with no strings attached. Time is something he didn’t give me freely. But I still had his affection. We still went to dinners and to The Balcony or to Crickets. Sometimes we stayed in and watched movies. A lot of movies. We hardly ever slept apart and there were still an abundance of kisses. But only when there was time.

By nine months I expected that we were through. I thought that Saturday was the last night I would sleep near him. I was devastated then and even now my heart sinks when I think about it. One night I decided I wasn’t going to be alone anymore and in a moment of hurt and perhaps revenge, I didn’t stay alone. I thought we were over, permanently. After a week of no communication from him, not even an email, he called and hung up. I called back because I could never resist the thought that I might see him again. He was outside my apartment. I desperately wanted to see him, regardless of the hurt I felt over him leaving.

By eleven months I expected things to change. I said I would wait until after Christmas, but I was growing impatient and I still felt hurt. Especially hurt that I was going to spend the holidays alone, without him. Two days after Christmas I called him and told him that I needed for him to make up his mind. He did and for another month I slept next to him every night , and woke up with him every morning, and kissed him every day when I came home from work.

By twelve months I honestly never expected to see him again. I came home to his things cleared from my apartment. There wasn’t a trace that he had even been there. Once again, my heart sank and I cried. I didn’t know how I could have been so stupid. He was leaving soon, not just a city away, but he was leaving to another country. I didn’t expect for him to call two days later. I answered. I wasn’t going to, but I could never resist the thought that I might see him again. And I did. And he left for what seemed an eternity. And I could not wait for him to return.

By fifteen months I expected to have his heart. I was wrong. No one could touch his heart anymore, except for his son. I remember the next couple of months, or maybe it wasn’t that long, as being horrible. I remember knowing that I could not live like this any longer, but for some reason clutching to the idea of us being together. Then he left. And I cried. And then I felt relief. Like a burden had been lifted. He drove away and I stopped crying and I smoked a cigarette. I called my sister and told her I was glad he left. I couldn’t relax when he was there. I couldn’t relax when he was suppose to be there and wasn’t. Now he was neither, he was gone. The feeling of relief wore off after a couple of drinks and way too many cigarettes. That was when I went insane and forwarded him as many emails as I could before I needed to go sleep. Emails he had sent me from Kuwait. I only did 10 or so, but they all called him a liar. That’s what I thought he was. A liar. Everything he told me was a lie.

And then he wrote me back and said he didn’t lie. That everything would be different. This time it was assured that nothing would be as it was.
The next ten months I didn’t know what to expect. But, I was happy and sometimes angry and sometimes upset. But, I haven’t felt uneasy or unsure about us, even though things have never been made easy for us. We never assumed things would be.

Right now, I have no expectations. I have his affection, and his time, and now, I believe, his heart is exclusively mine. There isn’t a need for expectations.

Tuesday, August 24, 2004


Okay, it's not a real prologue. Well, sort of I suppose. I guess it won't be if I decide not to publish the post. I'm on the fence about whether I want the public reading it. I'm not sure why I'm self conscious about it. I haven't been too self conscious about anything else I've written. I guess we'll see how I'm feeling later on or tomorrow or the next day, whenever.

I wrote about expectations in relationships. Mine in particular, of course. And what I wrote makes my relationship sound like it has been unpleasant from start to current and that's not accurate. What I wrote is completely true and it was how I felt at certain times, but it was just a small sample of the things that we have been through together.

Also, I wrote about a time when I hurt Brian. Until recently I thought that incident only made him angry. Angry in a possessive way. I thought he was mad because I did something that he didn't say was okay or he didn't allow. And I suppose that maybe I thought these things so that I wouldn't have to feel guilty or apologize for what I did. I thought these things because I was so angry at him for so long, even now. Not now as in this moment, but now as in the present. Sometimes, on my commute to work I would think about things that have happened in the past, things from over a year ago, and it would make my eyes water with tears. Then, I would snap out of it and remind myself that those things don't matter now. They don't pertain to our relationship anymore. I was surprised to hear that he would think of the pain that I had caused him and that what I did actually hurt him. It didn't just make him mad. I had hurt him. I never realized this. I don't know why I thought this. I was so caught up in my hurt and the betrayal I felt that I didn't understand that maybe he felt the same way.

Another thought that comes to mind is the fact that I believed that he had lied to me. I no longer believe that anything he told me was a lie. I see first hand that he loves his son immensely and before I believed that he was using him as an excuse to buy more time with me. I have come to realize that he never uses his child, for anything. What he wants for his son is a happy and healthy life. What he has done in the past, whether he hurt me or not, is to try and provide him this. He thought that certain things were conducive to being happy and healthy, so he did them. And I believe that the times that we were apart, he thought of me and during these times I believe that he wished he was with me. I suppose this isn't a prologue at all, but more of an addition, something to fill in the blanks. But I feel better about it. I suppose I didn’t want Brian to take anything the wrong way. So I hope I have clarified.

Saturday, August 07, 2004

Bachelorettes, Blasters, and Strippers

I had great plans for this day. A day where I would clean, catch up on laundry, get my hair done, lay out, workout. However, I am sitting on my couch with blood shot eyes, a headache, and a semi-queasy tummy watching Pirates of the Caribbean. I hate hangovers. I knew I probably wouldn't be up to par today, but I was assuming I would be functional. I am not.

Yesterday, Brian was sweet and took the kids up to the cabin for the night. I left work at lunch and had a mani and pedi and went shopping. Then I got ready for my first ever bachelorette party. I don't even know the bachelorette. She's getting married next month to a boy whose sister is married to a guy I graduated from high school with who was introduced to his wife by his ex-roomate with whom I happen to work with. Anyway, that's how I ended up getting invited. Are you following?

The night started with the usual bridal shower festivities. We played silly games, ate delicious food, and the bride to be opened her presents. Then the actual bachelorette party began, after the more innocent attendants had left. I started with a margarita, then a Coors Light (blah), and soon after we all did blow jobs. It's not easy to get it all in your mouth, a problem I am familiar with ;), but I actually was able to swallow the entire shot. I don't like shots normally. They make me gag and sometimes vomit. I try to stay away from them, but this was a special occasion.

After a few drinks we played pin the penis on the man and then we were treated to a strip tease instruction by a couple of the bridesmaids and the mother of the bride. That's the part I hated most. During the routines we each took a couple of swigs of tequila, but that still wasn't enough to help me loosen up and really get into the dancing. After this was when we really started to have fun. I had three Blasters (I think this is what they're called) and we took pictures of the girls in their strip tease outfits. Those should be interesting photos.

Then we decided to go downtown. I have not been downtown with the girls in over a year and it was quite exciting. We had our designated drive, the father of the bride, drive us, in a Humvee no less, to the Bistro. Here I ordered another Blaster and had a beer and hung out while some of the other girls danced and showed off their newly acquired talent for strip teasing. My friend from work, however, was puking her guts up from the tequila shots she had before we left. She had to leave early and went back to the house and passed out. I stayed and hung out with all these girls I had just met.

At the Bistro there was another bachelorette party so they had a drink off. Three girls from their party and three girls from our party lined up and were each given a cup of beer. Then one girl from each party drank their cup until it was empty, then the second girl could start her cup and drink it until it was empty, and then the third. Whose ever team finished first, won, obviously, but I'm letting you know anyway. Our team won. Yeah! There was no prize. Boo!

We bored of the Bistro soon after the contest and went to China Blue. I have never been there and it wasn't really what I expected. I had a really great time, but it was just a bar. Okay, there's a martini bar in the girl's bathroom, tended by a totally cute gay boy, but other than that it was just like any other club. The best part of the China Blue experience had to be that we got in free because one of the girls we were with flashed the bouncer. She has really nice boobs. They're not real, but very beautiful. I'm excited that I'm going to have a resource for a plastic surgeon in two years.

Off the subject of partying and more on boobs, the bachelorette also has implants, not as big as the flasher's, but equally as nice, from what I could tell.

She didn't flash anyone.

Okay, back to the party. At China Blue I was also informed that my driver's license had expired. "Its okay this time, have a new one by next week," the bouncer said. Okay, I probably will but he won't be seeing it. This going downtown stuff is fun every once in awhile, but not every weekend. No way.

At China Blue I had enough drinks that, yes, I danced with the girls and I didn't feel self conscious or embarrassed. Of course, there were a lot of girls, which helped. No one was paying attention to me for the most part. I did see a guy who went to Borah, where I graduated from high school. Anyway, I was like "hey you went to Borah." And he says yes. "What year did you graduate?" I asked him. "In '96". That was a shock, how did he look familiar? He was a sophomore when I was a senior. I didn't pay much attention to anyone in high school let alone sophomores. And he wasn't even good looking; he had a dorky look to him, which is completely fine. There's nothing wrong with dorkiness. It's just weird is all. Anyway, he was super shocked that I was as old as I am and said something about how my mom must look really good. I didn't know what to say to that, as I never know how to respond to remarks that infer having the same genes as my mom. I'm adopted so it wouldn't matter what traits my mom has.

After we were done with China Blue we took a cab to The Torch and watched a stripper dance. There was no stripping. Is this how all strip clubs are? I saw more boob on the way in to China Blue. Of course, I don't know how all the strip clubs work. I know there are laws about alcohol and the amount of nudity allowed. Needless to say I had "crotch in my face” for the first time. I'm quoting because the bachelorette was saying this the entire ride home. She, however, got a little bit more than crotch in the face. She said that was pretty weird. All in all, I had a good time and now I can finally say I've been to a strip club.

We finally ended the night. I passed out on the bottom bunk at the parents of the bride’s house. I also woke up about 4 hours later and could not for the life of me figure out where I was. That's sort of scary. To wake up and think, "Okay, I have no idea why I'm in this bunk bed and I believe I am still drunk." I heard Tammy's voice downstairs and snapped out of it. I remember now. I had fun last night. Time to go get my dog from my mom's and start my day.

I haven't started my day yet. Its past noon and I haven't showered and am now watching Anger Management. Hair appointment in less than two hours, get your ass of the couch already. I can't. I must sit here forever. Just kidding. I'll go get my hair done and maybe shop.