I’m Home!

19 Mar

Ladies, I have so much to catch up on!  The piles of papers on my desk, the cleaning, the e-mails, the phone calls, reading your blogs, MY BLOG!!!  Hell, your sassy Esme even won a blogger award…and I promise I will get to that soon!  But for now…

I am home.

And, I am sad about it.

I was at Loverboy’s for five weeks. FIVE!  Me, the one who prides herself on her love of independence.  The one who always said she will never be domesticated again.

I am a woman, so I can admit I ate those words.

I really enjoyed the fact I got to see him every day, even if it was just an hour before I fell asleep.  I loved the fact I got to sleep next to him every night.  I loved that when I was able, we cooked together.  I loved that he taught me to play Call of Duty, and we would play for hours on Saturdays.  Basically, I just loved being there.  Being with him.  A part of his normal, every day life.

Sure, we got into arguments.  And I was at fault for most of them.  Did I mention I can be hot-headed?  Out-spoken?  Fiery?  If Loverboy didn’t know that prior to my staying there (and I guarantee he knew), he quickly found out.  And I am ten times worse when I am in pain.  Anyways, even though we got into Esme-induced arguments, we never went to bed angry.  After I oh-so-maturely stormed into the bedroom, he would give me a few minutes to compose myself, then come talk to me.  And so I could save face, he always apologized.  What??  A guy that is even-keeled, calm, and collected??  Say it ain’t so!!  

As I healed, and as the pain receded, Loverboy grew quieter.  You know, Esme, I am glad you are better.  I want you to be better.  But I am so sad you are leaving soon.  I nodded my assent, and agreed that it was sad.

And it was.

I felt like we broke up.  I packed all the shit I brought over.  Put it in Loverboy’s car so he could drive me home.  He helped me unpack at my place, then he hugged me.  A very long hug.

I know I’m going to see you again, he said, but I just can’t help feeling like I’m losing this great piece of you!  I loved having you at my house.  I loved knowing you were waiting for me.  And it sucks it won’t be like that anymore.

FUCK!  Was I getting emotional?  This isn’t me!  NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah…I was.  I felt the same way.  I have slept like shit since I have been home, my bed feels too big.  I’m eating dinners alone again.  I think about him all of the time.

What can I say…I’m an Esme in love.  And no, I haven’t told him yet.

In other news…

I finally got to start physical therapy on my shoulder, and I couldn’t be happier!  I can’t wait to be able to work out again.  I can’t wait to get my toned body back.  I have been looking into gyms and workout programs that will help me regain my strength.  I can’t go back to firefighting until I can function 100%.  So far, Crossfit is in the lead.  Of course, I am still four or five months away from being able to do anything intense-damnit-but I am preparing all the same.  By the time it is all said and done, I will be out of work for over a year.  That is how ridiculous workman’s comp is.  A whole fucking year.

Also…check this shit out.

Everybody remembers Mr. Hottie, or M.  How can you forget?  Ours was quite the sordid affair!  The last you heard about was him asking me to sleep with him one last time.  Of course I turned him down, told him he needs to respect me and my decisions, and he agreed.

So what happened?

He turned into a stalker.

Every other day, for a few weeks, he would text me.  The texts revolved around me giving him one more night, him asking for naked pictures, him sending me naked pictures, etc etc etc.  The first few I would text back, asking him to please leave me alone, as I am very happy with my relationship.  He started to get more aggressive, so I resorted to threatening police action, and telling his fiancée.  I finally told Loverboy about the texts, since I would want to know if the situation was reversed.  Did I ever mention to you that Loverboy is some kind of internet sleuth?  That man can find out anything about anyone.  He found out who M was, found out where he worked, who his fiancée is, and anything else you could imagine.  I asked him to please not get involved, but I never asked him to promise.  See where this is going yet?

The texts from M finally stopped.  FINALLY.  I assumed it was the threat of his fiancée finding out.  (I actually didn’t have her info…but M didn’t know that).  After all, their wedding is scheduled for May something-or-the-other.  One day I mentioned to Loverboy that the texts from M had stopped, and I was happy about it.  Of course they stopped.  He knows we have his fiancée’s phone number.  I stared at him, and he couldn’t meet my gaze.  I was going to say something, but I decided against it.  I let the comment pass, and changed the subject.

I was PISSED for a short amount of time.  Absolutely fucking pissed.  How dare he involve himself in my problems?  How dare he fight my battles?  Once I started to calm down, I realized that he did it to protect me.  It really bothered Loverboy that I was receiving those texts, and understandably so.  No matter what I said, M would continue to text.  I couldn’t get him to stop.  Loverboy succeeded where I failed.  Was it ideal?  No.  Was it effective?  Absolutely.  I haven’t gotten a text in three weeks.  Thank all that is holy.  It’s not my problem M passed on the best thing he ever had.  Now I have to find a new mechanic.  Fucking damn.

As always, there is more to tell.  However, my shoulder dictates when I must stop.  So until next time…

Love, Esme


2 Responses to “I’m Home!”

  1. thoughtsappear March 20, 2012 at 7:38 am #

    I’m glad your shoulder is starting to heal and that M stopped texting you. I’m glad Loverboy took such good care of you!

    • Esme March 20, 2012 at 9:59 pm #

      Thanks, T! He took phenomenal care of me 🙂

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