I won’t be on here for a while. But when I do return, I’m sure it will be with tales of fabulousness..ok, so that may be hard with a bad shoulder, but a girl can dream…

Much love,
Esme

This is both a downfall, and a triumph.

I know that Carmen is out there rolling her eyes, saying What the hell did you do, Esme??

Save the eye-rolling, honey…you will need it later.

My truck has been having some major issues.  MAJOR.  It needs several thousand dollars of work, and I can’t afford it.  M has been doing it for the cost of parts.  Despite the relationship M and I may have had, we are still able to maintain an adult friendship.  He works on my car, I take him out for a drink, and nothing happens.  I go home to Loverboy, and he goes home to his fiancée.  It has been working well.  (For me at least)

Until the last time I saw him.

After he did some work on my car, in the freezing cold, he invited me inside so we could discuss cost and warm up.  This was not an unusual request, so I had no problem following him inside.  I bent over in the entryway to take my shoes off, and when I righted myself M was standing directly in front of me.  You should take your coat off, Esme.  As he said this, his hands found the top of my zipper, and he unzipped my coat.  M, what are you doing? Stop.  M backed off, and conversation turned back to my truck.  Not too long later, he put his hand on my cheek.  I’m ashamed to admit that it sent an electrical shock straight to my nether region.  E, I can’t stop thinking about you.  I literally can’t get you out of my fucking head.  One more night.  Just give me one more night.

I was speechless.  He took my lack of a response as approval, and he kissed me.  A kiss so filled of passion I got wrapped up in it.  Visions of our nights together, naked bodies glistening is sweat, the feel of his hands on me, the pleasure that derived from those nights.  It all came crashing back, the memories I fought so hard to bury.  I leaned in and gave myself the moment.  But only for a moment.  I put my hands on his chest and pushed him away.  He moved, but not much.  He kept his left hand on the back of my neck, his right arm around my waist.  He pulled me closer and whispered in my ear.  Tell me you want me to stop.  Tell me you don’t want me.  He kissed my neck, my ear, his hands roamed.  Christ, he was seducing me.  Literally fucking seducing me.  And I had to muster up every ounce of my internal fortitude to say I want you to stop.

M let me go and stepped out of arms reach.  He cocked his head to the side as his beautiful green eyes searched mine.  You are really turning me down?  You have never said ‘no’ to me.  Do you really have feelings for this guy?

I explained that I did.  Strong feelings.  And I was in no way ready, or willing, to fuck it up.

You love him.

What?  No!  OK, maybe.  Maybe almost.  But that’s not the point, M.  You had your chance.  TWICE.  And you let me go both times.  You fucked up, now you live with the consequences.  All you will have is memories.  No more, no less.

M nodded, his mouth set in a grim line, and returned to business.

We finished talking about my truck, no further mention of what transpired between us.  We made plans for me to bring my truck back after my surgery, since I won’t need to drive much until then.  Before I left I made sure that we were OK.  I like M as a person.  I am not sure about his thought process sometimes, but I enjoy the convos we have together.  I enjoy spending platonic time with him.  And I like the fact he works on my truck for free.  (Out of guilt?  Out of misguided affection?  Who knows, who cares, but he has saved me so much money.  I don’t want that to stop!)  M assured me that we were fine, he just didn’t expect me to say no.  I was pretty miffed by that statement, and told him to explain himself.

Esme, for as long as I have known you, you haven’t been like other women.  You were always about personal pleasure and satisfaction.  If either of us were dating, we still would get together for some mind-blowing sex.  It was without fail.  One would call, the other would come.  You have been able to separate sex from emotion like no other woman, or man, I have known.  I misunderstood, or underestimated, your feelings for this guy.  I truly did.  And that is my fault.  I didn’t expect it.  I KNOW you want to have sex with me.  I could feel it in you.  But I now know you won’t.  The last thing I would ever do is hurt you.

I took in what he said, and let it marinate for a minute.  If it validates you at all, I said, I did want you.  I DO want you.  But there is no way that I am going to give up the happiness I have with Loverboy for a few hours of carnal pleasure with you.  I really like this guy, and I think it has lasting power.  He treats me so incredibly well, and I will not abuse his trust, or his feelings, in me.  Especially not for you.  I can’t, and I won’t.  And you either need to accept it, or you need to leave me alone.

M said he accepts it, and reiterates that he will do nothing to hurt me.  I don’t feel it necessary to tell him he already has, because I don’t think he needs to know.  He brought up memories I no longer want.  And I spent several days thinking about us, when I have spent almost no time on it for months.

And I am fully ashamed to admit that for a split second, or four, I actually considered giving into my libido.  But I didn’t.  And I am oh so very happy I didn’t.  It’s not something I could have ever taken back.

And part of me can’t help but thinking SELFISH PRICK!!  Well, most of me is thinking that  The nerve.

Love, Esme

Can’t ANYTHING go as planned? I want my life back!!

I had court the beginning of the week, and it did not go well.  I’m not going to get into it, because the story is much too involved.  I know I will win this particular argument, but it is going to be a long, exhaustive battle.  And I am just so tired.  And because of recent developments, I had to cancel my trip to go see family and friends this week.  So not only am I tired, I am angry and bitter as well.  Bad place to be.

To make it all better, *sarcasm*, I called Loverboy while I was hysterical crying following court.  He started to pull away a little after that, and I can’t blame him.  I can’t.  My ex has run off a fair share of guys with his bull-shit.  I give Loverboy a lot of credit for sticking around as long as he has.  I finally headed over to his house the other day, and we had a heart-to-heart.  He is understandably worried about me, about the outcome, and about the trials and tribulations I will have to go through until it is all over.  He maintains that it isn’t me that is making him feel overwhelmed, but the situation I am in.  I offered to not discuss so much with him, now that I am sharing, and he said of course not.  Loverboy then admitted that he is having issues at work, and with his daughter, and it is all just compounding.

So we will see.  He is still around, and he is still letting me draw strength from him when I need it.  He is an amazing guy.

And I love him.

I just haven’t told him yet.  Too much going on.  I really hope he can fight with me through all of this.

Love, Esme

You have great boobs. *giggle*
You are one hell of a sexy woman. *tee-hee*
The things I’m gonna do to you soon *haha….mmmmm*
I *mumble* you. I went completely still, and asked him to repeat what he just said.
Nooo. *kissed ear*
No, really. I didn’t understand what you just said. Please say it again.
Later.
Now.
I want you.

I have a very funny feeling that this is not what he really said…

Love, Esme

I was so nervous about today that I spent the day with Loverboy yesterday.  He held me, and let me ramble on nonsensically.  He then brought up an excellent point.  Here it is paraphrased.

L: I really wish, Esme, that you weren’t going through all of this.  You stress about it, which makes me negative, and I don’t like it.  And you won’t talk to me about it!  I know so little of what is going on, and it bothers me.  If I knew, I think I would feel better about it.

E: I don’t talk about it because I don’t want to cast this negativity over our relationship.  Believe me when I say this only got bad after I met you.  If this were going on prior to meeting you, I never would have agreed to meet you.  But look, now I have dragged you into it! I don’t want it to affect US.

L: What you and your ex have going on, does not affect us.  It affects you, so therefore it affects us.  But I can’t help you if you don’t TALK TO ME.

E: You’re right.  You are.  I’m sorry.  You can still ask me questions if you want to know something.  I honestly have no idea where to start.

L: I’m afraid to ask you questions.  Since you don’t talk about it, I’m so worried of offending you, making you mad, etc.

E: You can ALWAYS ask.  And you will ALWAYS get a response.  What happened made me who I am.  I’m not going to hide anything, I just don’t know how to tell you.

L: OK.  I feel better.

E: Thank you for telling me how you feel.  You are so good to me, L.  You are.  You listen when I need it.  You hold me when I need it.  I feel safe with you.  So very good to me.

L: No, Esme, you are good to me.  I have a long way to go before you can say I am good to you.

I don’t know how to take that last statement.  Thoughts??

Love, Esme

Whoops...

Do you, my wonderful bad girls, have any idea what the above picture is? That would be the underside of my bed. That would mean…

I broke my bed!!

Ah-hahahahahahaha!! It can happen!

Today is Loverboy’s birthday. And since I didn’t get to the store, we went back to my place. And I gave him the only gift I had in my arsenal…phenomenal sex.

And that was the result.

Happy birthday to Loverboy.

Love, Esme

I’m typing this on my phone since my laptop is on the fritz, so bear with me as long as you can. Fo realz. Yo. It’s hella good. (My auto correct is totally flipping its shit right now, and it’s making me laugh).

Loverboy and I are AWESOME. I have no complaints whatsoever. I went to his family Christmas with him, and it went well…despite his drunk mother. But I did talk to her before she was drunk, so I have a good idea that she is basically normal. But drunk she told Loverboy he needs to date someone with girls, because she wants granddaughters. She then asked me if I would be willing to have another kid. When I informed her there were no more babies coming out of this va-jay-jay, she rolled her eyes and said ‘Ugh, more boys’. She then took my hand and said, verbatim:

You know, Esme, you were prayed for.

Excuse me?

Apparently Loverboy’s mom has been waiting for him to date for so long, she began to pray. Guess she forgot to specify granddaughters…

As mom of the year was leaving, she hugged me and said that she so hopes, very much, that she sees me again. Loverboy heard this comment, and told his mom to stop making him sound desperate. I, for one of the few times in my life, was speechless.

Loverboy’s sis-in-law later told me that once she heard the pray comment, she ran downstairs where Loverboy and his bros were, yelling ‘Code Red! Code Red! Esme’s in trouble!’ That would be the moment family surrounded me en masse and deflected any more questions and/or comments from Drunky McDrunkerson. And it was very much appreciated!

New Years Eve came, and we decided it was time for the kids to meet. Yes, ladies, we took the biggest step I can think of at this point in time. KIDS! AAAHHHHHHH!!!!
I stressed about it all day, and there was no need to. Our kids got along famously. In fact, mine keep asking to see his again. At the strike of midnight, Loverboy let the kids throw confetti, in his house, which gave the perfect opportunity for him to kiss me. I can’t think of a more perfect way to celebrate

With ups come downs, and this time it is in the form of Sunday. Its not even worth hashing out, but it is very pathetic that she is still talking shit about me after six months. Get a fucking life. I found out that she is testifying against me at my custody hearing…despite her divorce lawyers advising against it. When she confronted me about it, I informed her that it would be in her best interest to back down, as I will annihilate her. She said ‘whatever’. I smiled, and I am truly looking forward to fucking her shit up. On record. Which can affect her custody battle. BRING IT BITCH.

One down, a million goods. I truly ended 2011 on such an incredible high. Loverboy. Protection from the ex. My children by my side. I made fabulous friends…Jake, Seal. So many others. I learned a lot about myself in the process. I learned to let go of toxic relationships. I learned to say no. I learned that I’m a pretty fucking awesome chick, and Loverboy is damn lucky to have me.

To quote Barney Stinson:

I rock.

Love, Esme

Loverboy called me last night about 10:30 to see how I was and to say goodnight. He could hear in my voice that I was not ok. I deflected his questions, not really wanting to talk about it. I’ve told him enough about the craziness in my life, I was afraid to tell any more.

Loverboy talked me into coming over for an hour or two, and I was desperate enough to get out of the house that I made the two minute drive.

Once there I avoided talk about why I was having a shitty day. He finally grabbed me around the shoulders and pleaded with me. Please, Esme. Please just tell me what is wrong!

So I did. I did my best not to cry. I buried my head into his chest and poured out my story. He held me, ran his fingers through my hair, and listened without interruption. Afterwards, all he said was I wish I knew how to make it better. And I wish I knew what to say. If there is anything I can do, please let me know. I smiled and let him know he did it already. I just needed him to listen. And he did it.

And I felt much better.

We have plans to go out this Wednesday, and it turns out I will see him most of the week. I’m pretty excited about it. Ugh…I’m getting pretty gaggy…

As I was leaving Loverboy said to me: Just want to let you know that I canceled my online profile.

Okay, I said.

…

Oh! I canceled mine, too!

I think we just told each other we were committed in geek speak…

Love, Esme

The other evening he was out shopping for Christmas, and his car wouldn’t start.  Loverboy called me and asked if I could come rescue him.  As I was driving to pick him up, I was shaking a little bit.  Why, you ask?  Prior experience.  When my ex-husband was stressed, when things weren’t going the way he planned, he would take it out on me.  Call me names, throw things at me, take his aggression out on me.  It was never fun, obvi.  So I was worried at how Loverboy would react.  And I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of it.

When I pulled into the lot, across from his car, a big smile was on his face.  He gave me a big hug, and thanked me for coming out to help him.  He tried starting his car a few more times.  I could tell he was frustrated, but none of that frustration turned on me.  NONE.  I asked if I could make a suggestion, and he told me of course, E.  Why would you even ask?  I told him we should jump his car, and go from there.  We did, and it worked.  Loverboy gave me a big kiss and told me I was his hero.

The next morning I took him to the auto store to buy a new battery.  On the drive there, I thanked him.  I thanked him for not getting mad at me, for not yelling at me, and for not blaming me.  E, only a child would have blamed you for that.  The battery dying is in no way your fault.  I stayed quiet, not really trusting myself to talk.  Let me guess, a certain someone would have acted that way.  I nodded, and thanked him again.  Then I changed the subject.

I was telling Will about the experience.  When I finished my story, Will shook his head and said: It’s really sad that I need to tell you this, Esme, but the way Loverboy acted was NORMAL.  Normal.  100% absolutely normal.

Huh, go figure.

I spent the following night with Loverboy.  In the quiet dawn of the morning, a morning after some glorious amazing sex, he said You know, you come across as this super nice person.  I lifted my head off his chest and cocked my eyebrow at him.  Wait, wait…let me figure out how I want to word this before I continue.  Yes…why don’t you just take a minute there and figure that one out.

L: You are this amazingly sweet person.  You are great to me!  But I have to admit that I was nervous to have sex with you.
E: What?  Why would you be nervous?
L: Well, in my experience, the super nice girls are the ones who generally don’t enjoy sex.  Lights have to be off, they just want it done and over with.  Don’t touch me there, that hurts, no I don’t want to do doggy-style kind of sex.
E: Is that why you keep your eyes closed a lot during sex?
L: Yes.  Nothing really to see.  Anyways, I was worried you were going to be one of those people.  Imagine my surprise when you are yelling out things like ‘Pull my hair’, ‘Smack my ass’, and ‘Harder, faster!’
E: *laughing* Well, what is the point of having sex if you aren’t going to enjoy it?  I’m not a prude, I enjoy having sex, and I really enjoy it with you.  I won’t ever hide that fact.
L: No, never do that!
E: Now let me tell you…no more keeping your eyes closed during sex.  I am a very visual person and I like to watch.  And I want you to watch me.
L: Are you serious?
E: Absolutely.  And feel free to bend me over the bathroom sink so I can watch that, too.
L: I think you may be perfect.

Let me tell you…I didn’t think sex could get any better with him…and was I wrong!

Later that day, as I was getting ready to leave, Loverboy showed an insecurity.

L: I’m waiting for you to realize that I am not good enough for you.
E: Why would I ever think that?
L: You have a college degree.  You went back to school and became a firefighter/paramedic.  You talk about things that I know nothing about.  You are smarter and better than I will ever be.
E: Oh, Loverboy…my college degree got me nowhere.  I have never used it!  I’m currently not working because I am still waiting for shoulder surgery.  I hurt myself bartending for crying out loud.  But you…you were dealt with kind of a shitty hand when you were a teenager.  Instead of running away, you manned up and took responsibility for your actions.  You proved you were a good man!  You know more about politics then I could ever hope to know.  We have very intellectual conversations.  I don’t ever want you to feel that you aren’t good enough.  EVER.  And if I ever make you feel that way, you need to call me on it.  Because it is not intentional.
L: I guess so.  I guess you are right.

I am not quite sure on how to take that last conversation.  He constantly tells me how good I am to him.  I tell him I treat others the way they treat me, so if I am good to him it’s because he is good to me (I don’t think I could use the word good any more times in one sentence!).  I hope he can let go of this insecurity…I can only imagine what kind of problems this could cause.

Love, Esme