My Wifey for Lifey

It seems as though my besty comes to stay with me at the most opportune times. Last time she crashed at my place for a week I had my first HSV outbreak. This time around she was here to support and celebrate with me as I transitioned into a new career. She is exactly who I need in my life right now. Don’t get me wrong she’s a fucking bad influence because I seem to be drinking and getting high almost every night. Obviously I’m a grown ass adult and the choice is mine but I am weak when it’s in front of me and I have a more than willing counterpart. My fun loving, addictive personality takes control and I find myself saying, FUCK IT! It’s all good cause the second this bitch bails, I’m back on track. Sometimes you just gotta let loose and let be.

~Dates with wifey
Well lets just say the other people in the quiet, quaint restaurant likely don’t appreciate the inappropriate banter between the two of us and the outbursts of uncontrollable laughter. Topics of discussion usually entail, tinder, HSV, and sexual encounters. No surprise there right!

~Late nights with wifey
Drinks, TCH jellies, and food.
Apparently making banana bread at stupid hours of the night was our thing this time around. The first night “we” tried to tackle the adventure of baking we were flying high. I decided I was going to help from the couch as she literally bitched and nagged at me for almost an hour as she struggled to just mix the fucking ingredients. By the time she was done we were both ready to crash only then realizing it had to bake for over an hour. Fuck that, we crawled into bed and she set an alarm to get up and take it out, haha! When my little had the privilege of eating a piece for breakfast she had no issue telling me that it wasn’t good but would still eat it because it was banana bread with chocolate chips. The kid wasn’t lying, it wasn’t good. We later figured out that wifey doubled the baking soda, due to my lack of caring to label a container in my cupboard.

~Comfort levels
There was a night I went to crawl into bed and snuggle with wifey and stripped naked without even thinking. As soon as I went to spoon her I jumped out of bed and fell to the ground with laughter as I struggled to get dressed, whoops, my bad! Surprise you pervs, we aren’t that type of girlfriends!

~Yes please!
Having wifey stay with me made me realize how much I want a girlfriend. Her juicy snuggles and our respect for one another as woman was extremely comforting.

~Shopping with wifey
These jaunts brought us to Value Village. It became apparent within the first 15mins that this was going to bring some gut wrenching, knee jerking, fall to the ground laughing bouts. This go around we found ourselves buying the most ridiculous outfits to sport for a night we were planning to celebrate the victory of leaving the shit job I finally escaped. It only made sense that once we found our epic, classy jackets we embodied the persona that suited the era. I became her Beatrice and she shall be my Theodore. This rolled out to my other two girlfriends acquiring classic names such as Shirley and Norma.

~Stellar influences
Having wifey around to witness my epic parenting skills made me realize how ridiculous some people may view me. Of course there is zero judgement on wifey’s part, if anything she amped up the game, helping me teach my little such things as…
“Say what? In the butt, butt!”
The word douchebag was used more than usual. At one point as we were coming out of a busy store my little loudly protests, “No you are being a douchebag!”
It only made sense as our tom foolery got out of hand I slowly integrate the transition of using the middle finger in replacement of the the thumbs up while we romped around town. This may be cause for some awkward looks in the near future but what the hell, we be taking the middle finger back, won’t you join!
The holy shit handle was also talked about in excess every time we were in the car.
It’s a good thing I have enough sense to have in depth conversations with my little, stating the fact that most people would take offence to our shenanigans and that it’s important we use it in context, not obnoxiously and only with the right adults. We’ll see how that rolls out. Waiting on the day I’m called into her school for an awkward conversation about my little calling somebody a mother fucker or throwing up her middle finger in celebration or approval, haha!

~Bad ideas become GOOD ideas
It only makes sense we started to ponder the idea of getting “best friend” tattoos after visiting wifey’s friend at his shop. The idea literally makes me fucking cringe. I surely can’t stand having a matching tattoo so I said fuck it, “I’ll just get your name tattooed on me.” I was clearly just stoked on the idea of her getting my name tattooed on her juicy ass! YES please!!!

~OCD mania
Anybody that knows me understands that I like to keep my place in a pretty clean and clutter free state. Having wifey here doesn’t afford me the ability to feel as though my house is in order but I let go and let be, to a degree. Most nights I’d spend at least an hour cleaning before I could sit down and relax. There was a night I got so high and wifey came out of the bedroom to me obsessively cleaning and organizing my fridge. She basically bitch slapped me to get me away from the fridge, but not before I fought her to finish.

~Lets Celebrate
The day I found out that I got my new job I had taken a late lunch with wifey when I got the call. This was cause for some major celebration. Well wouldn’t you know that wifey has a bottle of crown in her car, like a responsible adult right. The fact that I had to go back to work for a couple hours didn’t stop me from guzzling back as much of that crown as I could. That was definitely a first for me to even attempt to come to work remotely intoxicated and I assure you I will never do it again. I perused back in, all gitty and googly eyed, trying to dole out the last tasks of the day, only to realize I royaly fucked up and wasted those two hours on something I personally had to go back and fix the next day. Whoops!

Here’s to a friendship that never falters and stands strong when it’s needed the most. I adore you and love you to the moon and back Wifey! xo

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Moving the fuck on…

Being raised not to show emotion was such a failure on my mothers part, amongst all else. I can understand the reasoning behind her need to damage us in such a way, as she was extremely unstable; far from being able to handle any kind of disruption to her life. There is no doubt that my naive, young parents should have never had 6 fucking kids. Kudos to “God” on supporting their delusions on that one. Anyways, this is why at times I feel as if I was a raised like a boy. Yes we all know how much we damage the male species by holding them to a different emotional standard than women. Thankfully there seems to be a bit of a shift on that front with the upcoming generations. Since having my daughter over 5 years ago, I have matured exponentially and am by far more self aware. This affords me the ability to better understand and face my learned behaviours. Don’t get me wrong, it will forever be a learning curve; I am far from perfect. I still trip up and fall into my usual tactics of distracting myself with undesirable people and behaviours which usually involves drugs and sex. It starts to spiral out of control when I divert from my routine of healthy life choices and snowballs from there. Yes this is a blaringly obvious failure on my part but it happens from time to time; I’m fucking human.

Over the past few weeks I’ve been struggling to release a sadness that surrounds the loss of a childhood friend who was murdered 8 years ago. Every time the day of his death approaches a rush of emotion hits me like a brick wall. The feelings no doubtably morph into something different every year. For many years I fought with anger and revenge surrounding his tragic demise. I now find myself grasping for the love that was lost and the potential future we could have had. It surely doesn’t help that every year I repeat the same pattern of stifling those emotions for yet another year. I seriously go almost the full year where I detach from the emotion and stoically speak of him. What a disservice to my soul, not being able to show the sadness and love that surrounds the memory of him.

This year was even more of a cluster fuck as I faced the challenge of changing career paths. Never did I think it would be so hard to release the last 8 years of hard work and dedication that I put towards my career. As I tried to come to terms with nearing the ultimate end of a successful chapter of my life, I was faced with extremely uncomfortable feelings that I tried to run from; only for it to rear its ugly head in the form of full blown panic attacks, and at work no less. Here I was bruised, battered and broken; a feeling of utter defeat. Once I finally made the hard choice to leave I had to face my bosses and clearly this is where I set myself up for even more disappointment. I was fooling myself in thinking that they would react any other way than they did. I sat in front of them, feeling like a horrible person, sobbing uncontrollably, which again is very unlike me, but it was clear that they could care less. They looked past me, completely detaching from me on a basic human level; attacking me based on their bottom line. Yes, shame on me for thinking the personal relationship I built with my boss the last 8 years would at all factor in as I regrettably said my goodbyes. (Obviously once I stepped away and gave myself time to digest everything I could give two fucks about those assholes and don’t plan to waste another valuable minute of my time feeling sorry for them or myself over the whole situation. It is what it is! Unlike them I get to move on with clarity to adventure onto something new and exciting while they continue to conduct business in such a shameful manner.)

It’s in times like these that I desire the embrace of another; to cry uncontrollably, without hesitation or fear. Thus far in the 34yrs of my life I have yet to find that person. It is still very much my MO to hold back, although the past year as I have delved into some major self work I have come to realize that I am more willing to show people that I am vulnerable. Lately it seems more times than not I find myself having crying outbursts at the most inopportune times. I clearly need to start figuring out how to channel those emotions so I stop scaring the people in my life, because they sure as shit aren’t used to me being like this. I most definitely have a couple of people I can confide in but it’s only over the phone that I am able to really be vulnerable. They no doubtably have had the uncomfortable privilege of hearing me sob uncontrollably on the other end of the phone; yet when it comes to face to face interactions with them I very much keep that wall up.

This is where I am appreciative to have writing as an outlet. When I am faced with lifes curve balls, I sporadically write; sometimes working on a piece for weeks to help me slowly face and release the emotions and thoughts that spin a web of confusion in my head. You poor fools make the choice to join me on this roller coaster of a ride and for that I say, thank you!

It’s when I have hit my rock bottom that I have no other choice but to come back to myself. I must stand alone in order to quiet my mind and find peace, restoring balance in my life again.

***I am thrown off the cliff into the rushing waters of emotion, reality crashing me to the shore of survival. To another day, another dollar.

 

 

He once was…

The day that marks the catastrophic end to your life approaches, and it’s as if I sit awake waiting on a nightmare.
I go the year stifling my emotions that encapsulate the memory of you, only for it to inevitably come to a head; rushing my whole being, cutting me to the core.
The feelings have already become unbearable, coming in waves, crashing me against the shore of reality.
The lump in my throat has become harder and harder to swallow.
I am weak, distracting myself from the imminent release of pent up emotions.
I feel exhausted, knowing I can only run for so long.
I must find the courage to admit to still feeling broken over losing you.
Unfortunately that only occurs when I hit rock bottom, desperately grabbing at somebody to help me release the pain.
I try to quiet my mind as I sit in solitude and watch the rain fall from the skies of wonder, cascading into the depths of the unknown.
My eyes become heavy and I find myself staring into the vast darkness of my mind.
I feel an overwhelming sensation as the memory of you takes hold, suffocating me into submission.
There is nowhere to hide as my thoughts become all consuming and my body surrenders to you; I begrudgingly allow the images to surface.
My head spins with stories of what once was and all that could have been.
You take over my being and my cheeks become drenched with tears of utter defeat.
I cry for what could have been, a life with you.
We would have adventured as one, exploring all that the universe held in front of us, leaving all else behind, just you and me.
My mind finally gives way to the sadness and I am startled awake.
I open my eyes to the beauty that lays before me and I gaze upon the rain as it pelts a delicate flower that refuses to wilt; a new perceptive is had.
My reality is no longer meek; clarity is found in breaking, knowing it has opened a beauty from within.
I begin to imagine your hand within mine, a feeling of warmth overtakes my body as your love engulfs me.
I sit in silence allowing all else to melt away.
The stories begin to spin a different web, a tale of courage, love and truth; the core of all that you mean to me.
I come back to what I had with you, an appreciation for all that you were, with me.
You will forever be in my heart, as only mine; a person who gave me great lessons in this life.
I hold you in my days on earth with comfort, knowing that we will cross paths in another life.
My love, my brother; forever as one, at peace.

Forever Mine

Those eyes
That smirk
Drawing me in
To the warmth of your embrace

We once were
A love untouched
A desire to be had
The wonder of us

Never lost
Forever in my dreams
A whisper, a glimpse
A memory to hold

Courage was lost
Boundaries unbroken
Regrets had
Words unspoken

I beg and plead
One last time
My heart aches
I long for you

Our paths no longer one
Adventuring on
Your growth immense
Peace at last

I stand alone
Lessons are had
Growing from my past
A future of unknown

All is impermanent

Letting go
Letting be
Living and Loving
As it should be

Ease into the Unknown

The clouds roll by, forever changing

The rain wets her face, awakening all that it touches

The sun strikes through the haze, giving life

The birds soar above, a freedom song is heard

The ocean sways, a sweet reminder of all that ebbs and flows

The sand gives way to the weight of her world, impermanent to all

She becomes still, quieting the mind

She breaths deeply, stirring all that is within

She is soft and supple, giving way to the unknown

She relaxes into what is offered before her, at one with her surroundings

Life is as it should be.

Let go.

Let be.

Love.

Red Fucking Light

Hmmm, I’m sure it’s obvious that I decided to throw caution to the wind and see what Waterboy has to add to my life, if anything another connection with a good human being, or as my girlfriend stated, somebody to keep in my back pocket. Wow, that makes me sound like I surround myself with some really shady people, haha! Nah, she just knows my sense of humour! When my weekend rolls through I find myself wanting his company, but he has his little for the night. What does that mean for me? I put the brakes on but only for a hot fucking second apparently. My 16 year old hormone enraged body goes colour blind and I can’t see the red light in front of my face. Remember this one lives with his parents but they are gone to the city for the evening. I find myself cracking jokes, insisting I need an exit plan, like a window, because I sure as fuck don’t want to bump into his parents looking all cheeky. At first he wants to meet for dinner with his little but I insist I come over after she’s down. That’s where his 14 year old hormones take over and he doesn’t think it through as to how weird it is to introduce his little to somebody in such an intimate scenario. Yes dinner is an intimate situation for me. Ok, sure she meets lots of people but I’m not lots of people, I’m so loveable that people quite easily attach to me. Haha, I’m such an egotistical asshole!

Ok, so I decide to go over after his little is in bed. When I arrive I feel slightly weird and it gets more amped once we go upstairs to his room. Holy fuck talk about intimate, their bedrooms might as well have connecting doors. As I sneak by his littles room I realize the door is open, shit this is getting real. Thank gawd kids basically go into commas when they sleep, or so we fucking hope. We crawl into his bed to watch a movie, that is not watched. I ask if he knows when his parents are due to arrive and he so bluntly states that for all he knows they could be on their way home now. What the fuck dude, why am I at your house, SHIT! Well sensible 34 year old mom is nowhere to be found and we are hot and heavy in no time. I keep pausing, trying to keep my boundaries but that 16 year old hormonal bitch takes over. As soon as we decide to go for it the house phone rings. Ya these guys legit still use a landline, haha! “Hey, sister can you fuck off with your questions already,!” I can barely hold the laughter in. Ok so we brush that off and try to discreetly go about our business but before we know it, we’re in our own world, forgetting about what lays beyond the closed door. I feel like the biggest douchebag even writing this, what an asshole. As we come to a close and get ourselves decent again the fucking house phone rings again. “Oh hey mom, ya you’re on your way home now?” Good gawd B get the fuck out of there already, and never do that again you selfish prick.

Seriously it’s ME not you!

You know I met this one on Tinder because it’s apparently the only place I have game. There were factors off the hop that had me weary but this one was a persistent brat and I’m a sucker for nice guys. Not only does he live quite a distance from me, he also has a little in which I find myself feeling uncomfortable in getting entangled with. We continue chatting and I find him intriguing so I meet him for tea. Shit, this one talks more than me and I love it. It takes a certain type of person to shut me up. It was clear he had interesting things to say, otherwise I’d likely not let him talk, haha! He was honest and blunt which is totally my jam.

Later in the week we make plans to meet in my area which basically led to him coming to my house. Right away I found myself setting up boundaries to stick to. Clearly I wanted to be sure I wasn’t a complete fuck face, so I knew the major boundary would be keeping my panties on, haha! Lucky for me that I’m a chick so I can easily blame it on the crazy train and not have him second guess it. It’s still awkward for me because during shark week I could actually give two fucks and if anything I’m even more turned on with the hormones surging through my body. Ok, so whatever we have our fun and part ways… until next time, except my thoughts take control. I started to wonder if I was being an asshole for even entertaining something causal with this guy, it seemed unfair. Even if it was only a 1% risk of exposing him to HSV I found myself starting to panic. Truth be told this one also lives with his parents at the moment, and for good reason, or so I tell myself, ha! Like he needs any more baggage on his end, and I sure as shit didn’t want to be the cause of anything else that added to his “situation”.

Here’s when the wiggle dance really started for me. I begin to exit from back stage, blaming it on our schedules not colliding. I was clear from the get go that I didn’t want to compromise too much of my sans little time and in turn I didn’t want him always adjusting things on his end to accommodate me. Either way there is clearly major truth in that because anybody that knows me gets that I’m an extremely last minute type of person. I rarely make plans and sometimes I stink at sticking to them. It really all depends on where I’m at and what’s happening on that day. I like the little freedom I do have so I try to be carefree and open when it comes to those times. Well this one seems to get me off the hop and is already good at calling it like it is, which I like. If you can’t call me on my bullshit you’ll never survive, haha! Plain and simple, so he thinks. He points out the fact that I have commitment issues, ummm right! It’s likely why most guys don’t mind hanging out with me, because they know I hold little expectation on them. Well here I am getting a little squeamish with him being so blunt and I throw out the fact that there is also a sexual factor that is holding me back. He doesn’t seem to really approach it and stays on the commitment factor.

At this point I’m getting overwhelmed and exhausted. Mainly because I do find him interesting yet my thoughts won’t stop spinning over the potential failure. Apparently I can very easily be viewed as a pessimist in this area of my life, where I have always looked at it as being a realist, haha! I finally get fed up with the interrogation and tell him I don’t care. I send him a link to my blog and tell him to read the entry, “My Uncomfortable Truth.” I was sure he wouldn’t be so persistent about seeing me again after reading it. Well sure as shit he’s still messaging me, asking me questions. I’m not surprised by the inquiries as he’s an inquisitive person. By this point I don’t even want to waste my time talking about it but I am slightly curious where this conversation is going to go, left, right, sideways or upside down. I obviously like to put myself in uncomfortable situations to see how people react.

As this is going down I am quickly realizing how icky I feel over saying the words, “Genital Herpes,” to potential sexual partners. I still very much hide behind the term HSV-2. Argh, it makes me even more upset that I don’t have the gull to just say it. I can quite easily and openly discuss the hot topic with friends and family but that’s one thing. I don’t care about their judgement or the fact that they wouldn’t want to fuck me. When it comes to these guys I feel like they have their hand over the big red eject button, plummeting me into a lifetime of celibacy. It’s likely why my game plan has turned a touch shady. If I can hook these fuckers in with some wicked and unforgettable foreplay maybe their sexual drive will get the best of them and they may be more inclined to adventure with me. That makes me even laugh as I type it. Who am I kidding, I always make myself laugh because I’m a complete moron when it comes to trying to date. I feel like a 16 year old hormone enraged girl who can’t get out of her head and is driven by her throbbing pussy. Ya I sure as shit just laughed out loud, crude and vulgar, what guy wouldn’t want me?!

Anyways I got sidetracked as usual, back to this one, who I have this ridiculous desire to call waterboy, due to my own inside joke that only I laugh at every time I try to say his name. Well to my utter surprise his inquiry rolls into him stating that he also has it, yes he says it. I burst out laughing, thinking what a dick move to make a joke out of it, but kudos to him. I tell him I’m laughing and ask if he’s fucking with me. He insists he isn’t, saying he has had it since his early 20s. I quickly ask/point out the fact that he clearly does not have this conversation with his sexual partners, and he confirms that he indeed does not. He then states that he hasn’t given any of his pervious partners HSV, ~that he knows of, ha!~ The more I write about this and openly discuss it I am realizing that I attach way too much guilt to giving HSV to somebody when in reality the chance is slim, yet that teeny tiny percent freaks me out still. Who am I kidding? It would be like freaking out about getting pregnant every time I had sex with a condom. I sure as shit have never let that ruin my sex life before so why the fuck am I torturing myself with this?

Welcome to my world, always in my head, never able to fully let go.

~Own my half and let the rest be already, stupid shithead.~

Her Wonder Years

The moon is quiet, giving her light in the darkest hours

The sun wakes, sweetly kissing her with the warmth of all that is untouchable

The skies open up to the wonder of all that is unseen, daring her to search the unknown

The seas push and pull, throwing her to the shore of survival, as the mystery of breaking no longer holds her back

The mountains give way to peaks of triumph, rejuvenating her soul

The road winds in directions that no other can see, keeping her alert to adventure once again

She let’s go

She will be

Living and Loving every moment

As it should be

Security of Love

The unexpected always has a way of creeping up on us.

In most circumstances more than not we come crashing down.

We likely get up, brush it off and move on quite quickly.

It’s when we are met with the exceptionally good that truly startles our being, stopping us in our tracks to ponder the feeling of this unknown.

It’s a connection with another or better yet with oneself and the universe which brings an energy that lifts us.

We feel untouchable in those moments, riding out the high for as long as we can.

It’s a vibration that penetrates us to the core, electrifying our whole being.

A state of euphoria that brings ultimate relaxation into the atmosphere that surrounds us.

A comfort like no other, a release to the power of Love.

If one can let go, one can let be, to live and love, as it should be.