Tag Archives: Fighter

Esme is back.

14 Oct

Do you ever just get so overwhelmed you shut down?  Because I do.  I am there with so many things.  Not with the custody battle (that shit is ON).  Not with the shoulder (because that will work itself out.  I’m not even worried about it).  But with some friends.  And definitely with guys.  Let me explain.

I have really struggled with the whole Sunday debacle.  And I am mad at myself for struggling.  It’s hard for me to throw away an 8 year friendship.  On one side, friendships do take work.  But on the other, and much stronger, side?  She NEVER should have done what she did.  Never should have involved friends.  Never should have stolen my meds.  Never should have involved my roommate.  Never should have done so many other things I never wrote about.  That friendship took so much of my energy, and time, that I didn’t realize how drained I was until I didn’t have to do it anymore.  I’m not going back there…I refuse…but I’m finding it kind of hard to let go fully.  All in time.

Men.  Men are starting to frustrate the crap out of me.  No, I take that back.  They have always frustrated the crap out of me.  However I am at the point where I just want to take a break.  Not a break from sex…pssssshhhhhh…I don’t break from sex.  But I’m done trying to date.  I had WAY MORE FUN when I was out for my own pleasure.  Let’s just recap for a second, shall we?

Why I hate trying to date:

  1. Feelings.  I can’t stand feelings.  Fuck.  Them.  They led me to crying over M.  I ran my mascara and eye-liner for that douchero.  I have to say…that’s just not an attractive look for me.
  2. Guys like Fighter, and guys like dude with 8 kids.  I want to vomit every time I think about how I had to shell over money for 3 out of 4 dates.  Or how guys can just fail to mention they run a home straight out of a Brother’s Grimm fairy tale.  That shit is just not OK.
  3. Too much fucking energy.  I live life pretty unapologetically.  And I am realizing guys just don’t dig that.  I still didn’t apologize for anything, but I found myself pulling in the reins some.  And then I would get pissed off.  A dude should like me for me.  
  4. The uncertainty.  I’m never uncertain.  But damn if some of the behavior I witnessed had me second guessing myself.  Again, just not OK.
  5. Having to dumb myself down to talk on their level.  I say that, and I realize how it sounds.  I never acted stupid.  I didn’t start twirling my hair, popping my gum, or saying uummmm….like totally.  But I did find I had to use small words and talk like a kindergarten teacher when I explained the fundamentals of Relationship 101.  No, I’m not going to miss my kid’s soccer game to go watch you play golf.  No, I’m not going to let you do something sexually repulsive to me that I’m not comfortable with.  Yes, I am a big girl and can make my own decisions, like what I want to order for dinner.  No, I am not going to blow you in your car just because you bought me dinner.  Why yes, I am a very strong and opinionated woman, because I was taught to be vocal and say what I want.  (All you have to do is imagine me bracing my hands on my knees while I get on their level talking in a kindergarten teacher voice.  I really did this.)  Too much energy!!  Too much idiocy!!  Where do guys come from these days??
Now, let’s explore why I am going back to being my lovable Esme self:
  1. I can do what I want when I want with whom I want.  ‘Nuff said.
  2. I don’t have to apologize for anything.  Again, ’nuff said.
  3. I can call who I want, whenever I want.  And amazingly enough, the response is better when I am dating someone.  Example #1:  Hey boyfriend, you should come over.  Can’t babe, sorry, busy.  Example #2:  You.  Me.  Sex.  Now.  I will be right over.
  4. I’m a lot more satisfied.  And I’m not just talking sex, even though that’s the case as well.  I’m more satisfied because all I have to worry about is me, and my little family.  There is no one else to take into account.  I make a decision, and it doesn’t get questioned.  It doesn’t get argued.  It doesn’t get changed.  I wake up in the morning to the world I left the night before.  And I truly love that.
  5. I’m in control of my own destiny.  Kind of ties into #4.  I have no one to blame, but myself, as I made my own decisions.  Likewise, I can take full credit when things go well, because it was all me.  I am 100% in charge of my life, and I don’t have to run things by anyone.
  6. I am free to change my mind whenever I want, how often I want.  I never get bored.
  7. I just truly enjoy my life more when all I need to do is live for me.  What does that tell me?  That I have yet to find a great guy who is worthy of me.  It also tells me that I am probably not ready for a committed relationship.  I’m so glad I can be honest with myself about this.
I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to figure things out with Sunday.  Figure things out with M (No, we aren’t seeing each other…but had a few convos that messed me up some…done with all of that, too).  Figure out where I was going wrong.
It all came down to the fact that I started to forget who I was.
I realized that with M, I tried to be the person he wanted me to be.  He didn’t love me, he loved what he thought I could be.
I realized with Sunday, I bent over backwards because I was afraid of losing the relationship I thought we had.
I realized that I was sacrificing parts of me I love because I didn’t feel like having to explain myself or my actions.
And it won’t happen any more.
What snapped me out of it?  A long convo with Jake.  Oh…how I heart him.
It seems the fates agree with my decision to bring back my sassy self.  Guess who I heard from today?  Ambulance Guy.  Yes…Mr. AG himself.  We have been out of contact for a couple of months.  Not on purpose, but life just took over.  He texted me today, and asked how I was doing.  We had some superficial conversation, which is how I like it if I plan on having a sexual relationship with someone.  Then he got right to it.
AG: I want to see you.
E: Yeah.
AG: I could go for a drink and sex.
E: And I could go for your hands on my body, your mouth replacing them.
AG: Shit…
E: I want to be unable to walk.  I want to feel you for three days.
AG: Sunday?  Please say Sunday…
He better come over on Sunday.
Medic has also been texting me lately.  I really enjoy being with Medic.  It’s easy, there are no feelings involved (at least on my end), and it takes so little thought its almost embarrassing.  But I’m wondering if it has run it’s course.  The last two times we planned on getting together, one of us has backed out.  I can sit here, think about our time together, and I get hot and bothered.  Holy shit we have some great sex.  But when it comes time for him to come over, I’m just not feeling it.  I will give it a few days before I make a decision on it.  I have a few things on my plate, so it could be just stress.
So there you have it.  Enough with the mushy and sad posts.  Enough with the stupid L-Word.  Enough second guessing and worrying and wondering and crying and everything else.
I’m back.
Bitches.
My only worry is where to stay for Vixens in Vegas 2012.
Love, Esme
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Soooo…The Bad Comes To Light…

9 Jul

I had a movie date with Fighter the other night.  I kept the date, even though I was in pain and I had a lot on my mind.  Instead of heading out for a movie, however, I invited him over.

Halfway through the movie he went in for the kill.  And I was excited.  Until it felt like he was trying to preform a root canal procedure on my rear molar.

The boy can’t kiss!  And I am not talking about a little bit bad, he can probably be retaught.  I’m talking horrifically bad.  I felt like I was choking one minute, getting intubated the next minute, and all the while I was gasping for air.  I’m not exaggerating.  By the time he broke away, I was taking in huge gulps of air, trying to get rid of the black spots in my vision that were threatening to take over.  No part of that kiss was romantic, sensual, or even good.

So now what?  I just can’t date a bad kisser.  Just…no.  Kissing means too much to me!  I love to do it and I could do it for hours.  Having that chemistry is so damn important to me!

I know what I need to do…it’s just kind of hard because he is so damn nice…sigh…

Love, Esme

Why Can’t I Just Turn Off My Mind?

2 Jul

I have had a week plus of sleepless nights.  Which, really, not sleeping does not lead to good thoughts.  It leads to Everything is going to Hell in a handbasket thoughts.  It leads to How am I going to fuck this one up thoughts.  It leads to Sigh…I am feeling just so completely retarded thoughts.  And it brings back memories/nightmares of one of my worst calls ever.

Truthfully…it is right around the anniversary of one of my worst calls.  It happened 4 years ago.  Every year at this time I stop sleeping, lose weight, withdraw a little.  All I want to do is talk about it, but I don’t feel like anyone would understand.  It wasn’t one of those bloody gory brains all over the freeway calls.  It was a very emotional response…and it didn’t bother anyone else as much as it bothered me.  Sometimes, those are worse than anything you could ever see.

Yes, I have gone to therapy for it.  I was told that it will take time, and it may never go away.  Hoo-fucking-ray.

Since this has happened every year for the last four years, I know it will be over in a couple of weeks.  But Christ, what kind of damage am I going to do to everything that is great in the meantime?

I get bitchy (more so than normal) when I have a severe lack of sleep.  I struggled throughout my date the other day to maintain a positive, sunshiny attitude.  I have to re-read all of my texts to Fighter several times to make sure they convey what I want to sound like.  I feel like me saying Hey dude…it’s the fourth anniversary of something that bugged the EVER-LOVING shit outta me, and I just really need to talk about it will make him run away faster than I can process.  I have been having a lot of negative thoughts about Fighter and me.  How it could never work, we come from two different places, blah blah blah.  The good thing is that I am still rational, and I know none of that is true 🙂  I just need to be able to turn off the negative thoughts caused by the sleeplessness.

The only thing lately that has helped me sleep, and has helped me relax, was having Medic next to me.  And I’m not talking about the sex.  I’m talking about being held, feeling safe.  I didn’t dream those nights.  I didn’t worry about what would happen when I closed my eyes.  I liked knowing that if I was startled awake, I could roll over and gain strength from his presence.  (Now let’s be clear here…I don’t need a man to be strong and safe.  I’ve done a great job of that the last two years on my own.  But these few weeks every year, I think I like feeling that I can lean on someone else just a little).  Him being around, holding me, not judging me, and making me laugh helps me forget.

I have found myself wearing my favorite shirt quite often lately.  It’s a shirt I wear when I need a little internal fortitude.  I did some amazing-test-my-limits things in that shirt, so it reminds me of how much a ROCKSTAR I am!  The shirt, my grandmother’s earrings, and my other grandmother’s ring have all been staples lately.  All for the same reason.

Why the hell did it take me so long to put two-and-two together? Hello Esme…it’s not a date you will forget!  Next time I need to mark it in my calendar so it doesn’t sneak up on me so badly.  And that way I will hopefully remember to not try to make any serious life changes around these few weeks…it’s stressing me out!

Love, Esme

The Good And The Great

1 Jul

Today I am going to start with my What The Hell Was I THINKING?? moment of the day.  I seem to be having a lot of moments lately.

Medic and I have been back in communication.  He blames his lack of on Haz-Mat training. (I have to admit that it is kind of a valid excuse.  I fucking HATE Haz-Mat training.  It is long, and draining).  So the other night he asked me if I wanted to go out for a drink.  I had a long day at work, and I was not feeling up to going out.  I invited him over, as long as he brought the drink.  He agreed, and was on his way.  What can I say, I missed his company.

We drank, we watched South Park, I called him out on not talking to me.  We fell back into our easy way of talking and laughing.  We finally decided to go to bed, and he had too much to drink to safely drive home.  So he stayed.

We snuggled into bed, and I asked him why he got weird after kissing me (ahhh…the convos you have when you are sufficiently buzzed).  He maintained he didn’t, why would he stop talking to me, etc etc.  Then he leaned over and kissed me again.

This time, it didn’t stop at kissing.  And it was AWESOME.  Just…awesome.  Stupid?  Probably.  Awesome?  Yes.  Did I mention it was awesome?  Because if I didn’t, it was awesome…just so you are aware.

So after the awesomeness, we were once again snuggled in when he said: Can we agree this changes everything?

HUH??

E: What does it change?
M: Everything.
E: Did you have fun?
M: Fuck yeah I had fun.
E: Is it something you want to do again?
M: Absolutely.
E: Then shut up and don’t make a big deal about it.  It’s just sex.  Two people filling a need.
M: I think you may be the coolest chick ever.

A while later something struck me as odd.  I turned to him and said:

E: Medic, if this was something more than us being sexually attracted to each other and horny, you have to let me know.  Do you understand?  If there is something else, you have to tell me.
M: I’m good.  It’s all good.

I fell asleep after that.  In the morning when his alarm went off, he got up and said goodbye.  I waved him away.  On only three hours of sleep, I was not feeling courteous enough to walk him to the door.  On the plus side, he has texted me since.  That may be because I told him if he ignores me again, I will hunt him down and chop his balls off.

Should I have done that?  Probably not.  But goddamn it was fun.  So I don’t regret it.

The next day I went on date three with Fighter.  I was a fucking mess before I went on the date.  Not because I just slept with someone else (the sex probably relaxed me a lot), but because I was so focused on this being a committment thing (Simmarah, I totally agree with your analysis of date three!).  I was on the verge of making myself sick.  Do I act different?  What do we talk about?  AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!  (I realize that this all sounds stupid.  But I just could not turn it off).

I got to the mini-golf place first.  I took some deep breaths, centered my chi, and tried to put on the facade of a composed person.  When he arrived, he gave me a big strong hug (melt) and we set off.

Fighter let me know he was definitely digging me.  He was in my personal space, touched my arm and back, everything a guy can do to let you know he is interested.  After we were finished with our game (it was a wash for both of us), we went to lunch.  Lunch lasted four hours.  We sat and talked about all kinds of things.  I learned a lot more about him, but I was still kind of guarded.  He didn’t seem to mind when he would ask a question and I skirted around it, like when he asked about my ex.  I finally told him that my marriage wasn’t great, and I wasn’t married to a nice guy.  He smiled, and asked no more about it.  I really liked that he did that.  He will let me discuss it at my pace.

I finally had to call an end to lunch when I looked at the time and realized I had to work in thirty minutes.  He walked me to my car and wrapped his arms around me.  Sigh.  LOVE THAT.  He gave me a kiss on the cheek, then one on the lips.  Very sweet.  He held on to me when he told me he wanted to show me the sights in the city, and asked me if I was interested.  Hell yeah I am interested.  Our work schedules kind of suck, but he told me we would figure it out soon.

Always looks way more romantic in pictures...but I still had butterflies 🙂

I was giddy like a girl the rest of the day.  I think I really dig this guy…

Love, Esme

So Much To Tell…

27 Jun

Oh my god it has been one hell of a roller coaster ride the last week or so.  Let’s deal with the What The Fuck moment of the week.

I have been so busy, that I have been neglecting friends, family, and everyone in between.  Especially you guys…and I tell you  everything.  So needless to say, I have also been neglecting Nice Guy.  As in I haven’t talked to him for a week.  Just ONE WEEK.  Not a month, not a year, but a week.  And here is the email I received from him the other day:

I appreciate and understand that you have not had it easy the past year and are still working your way though things.  However, a friendship takes two and I have felt that you have been scarce to non-existent for some time.  I understand that you live in a different time zone, work two jobs, are taking care of your kids, and are fighting your ex and his girlfriend. In a friendship I would hope that my wants get met, but at the very least my needs get met.  Maybe after you have had the time to get settled you will be able to resume a friendship with me.  Only time will tell.  In the meantime, I cannot continue with our friendship in this way.  Good luck in your endeavors and I hope you find happiness and it is your own…Nice Guy.

And yes, this is copied and pasted, only thing changed is the name at the end.

I have an inbox FULL of emails from friends, and every other one says ‘Just please let us know your alive’, ‘You didn’t to anything stupid enough to go to jail, did you?’, ‘Hang in there baby, things get better’.  And then I get the one above.

If you KNOW that I am going through all of that drama, and you KNOW I have all of this shit going on, don’t you think I may appreciate an email that is a little more positive?  Or how about ‘I’m always here for you, I know you are going through a lot, just call me when you have time’?  FUCK OFF DOUCHEBAG.  Last thing I need is your girlie-ass complaining about your ex-girlfriend from two years ago that you are still pining over because she is sooooo beautiful.  She left you, man the fuck up, and get on with your life.

In other news, Medic cancelled another lunch.  What the fuck ever.  We were drunk, you kissed me, big fucking deal.  Why is it that dudes have to make a federal case about everything?  He acts like it was the world’s biggest no-no.  I just don’t have the energy for it.

In better news…I went out with Fighter again.  And we had a really nice time.  It turned into a three and a half hour lunch, where we just learned a little more about each other.  And he asked me to go have a day with him this Thursday.  He wants to go do something ‘fun’, like bowling or miniature golfing.  I suggested laser tag, because nothing says ‘date’ like shooting someone in the ass.  We will see what he decides 🙂

On this better news note, I am having a bit of a panic attack.  I feel like date three is a committment.  As a committment-phobe, I am having issues with this.  Fighter has yet to ask why I got divorced.  I have yet to tell him about my marriage.  I have always said it isn’t anyone’s business, but I am now second guessing that opinion.  I’m thinking he needs to know.  I have yet to kiss him because I am interested in him.  He hugs me and I am the one who breaks away.  This is all quite the conundrum for me.  I can go to Mr. Hottie or AG, and have awesome sweaty sex.  I can go see Medic and drape myself all over him.  But give me someone I have an interest in dating and getting to know, and I am like a deer in headlights.  I think I am afraid of being back in a dark place, one I never want to go to again.  I’m afraid of being hurt, emotionally and physically.

I am aware I have hang-ups.  And the last thing I want to happen is me sabotaging something that could be GREAT.  That is why I am womaning up.  I am going on this date, and I am going to take it one day at a time.  And I think very soon I may have to have a talk with him.  I don’t want him thinking that he is the problem, when in fact it is me and my past.  Sigh.

Much love, Esme

Date. And An ‘I’m Not Sure I Should Have Done That’ Story…

11 Jun

So I stood outside, waiting for this guy to show up.  At noon he did text me and tell me he was going to be a little bit late.  OK, at least I got a text, but I was still not happy.  At ten after, I texted him and told him I was going in to have a beer.  Fuck this.  If he didn’t show, I was still going to drink.  And by now, I was just angry.

A few minutes later in breezed a very tall, very muscular blond-haired blue-eyed man.  He came to rest at my table, and he looked very apologetic.  I’m so sorry, he said.  I didn’t know the highway (that runs by the restaurant) was under construction!  I feel like such a shit!

Well…that was a good start.  He sat down, and I studied him while he talked to the waiter.  He was thin.  But not anorexic thin.  A work-out fiend thin.  Strong.  Angular.  He later told me he used to be a martial arts fighter.  Well, there you go!  That’s how he got that body.

We talked for three hours, and it only felt like one.  We talked about work, hobbies, favorite trips, etc.  He asked very little about my marriage and divorce, and I was actually OK with that.  He was interested in me as a person.

As we talked I noticed he had a small facial tick that would normally not get noticed.  Fighting injury, was the reply.  Surprisingly, this didn’t bother me (as weird things usually do).  It made him more…endearing.  New name: Fighter.

I called an end to the date when I realized how long we ha actually been there.  Damn…broke a rule.  He paid for the meal (and my two drinks I consumed in my anger earlier) and walked me outside to my car.  Then he gave me a hug.  Not just any hug…one of those full body hugs.  Strong full body hugs.  God DAMN this guy was strong.  And my mind was fantasizing.  I told him I had a great time.  He said he did as well.  Later that day I got a couple of texts from him, but no offer of a second date.  We will see.

Here is the second part to the title of this story…fuck fuckitty fuck…

On the drive back my truck started making some crazy noise.  I know this noise to be a loose belt.  SHIT.  I called the first person to come to mind.  My favorite-and only mechanic.  Mr. Hottie.

E: Dude, my car is making a loose belt noise, can you please look at it so I don’t die in a fiery crash later today?
M: I’m at my place.  Swing by and I will take a look.
E: I am coming just for the truck.  Understood?
M: Babe, I have shit to do, either come by or not.

So I headed that direction.  I pulled into his driveway, and he sauntered on over to me.  All business, after a sexy little smile.  He spent a good 20 minutes looking in the engine, told me what needs to be replaced, and gave me a list of things to buy.

E: How much is all of this going to cost me?
M: Just parts.
E: Really?  That’s it?  I don’t know what to say.
M: Why don’t you come in for a drink.
E: I thought you have shit to do.
M: *sexy smile* Oh Babe, I do.

Damn.  I followed him inside, all the while giving myself a mental pep talk.  Just a drink.  One drink.  I haven’t seen him in over a year, and we are just going to catch up.  THAT’S IT.

He handed me a water.  I looked at it stupidly.  I didn’t even realize he went to the kitchen and back.  I looked up at him when he grabbed my wrist and flipped it over.

M: What’s this?   A fucking tattoo?  You marred your body?  Only french whores get tattoos.  (He does NOT like tattoos on women, and I snapped out of my stupor)
E: You aren’t my fucking boyfriend.  And it’s my body.  I can get a tattoo if I damn well please.  And who the fuck are you to tell me I can’t?  Go fuck yourself!  (I’m so eloquent.  I pushed him away from me with a good amount of force)
M: Now that’s the Esme I’ve been wanting.  Not the meek chick that walked in here.

Before I could register what he just said, I found myself flat on my back on his couch.  His lips kissing, his hands roaming.  Clothes discarded throughout the room.  I couldn’t get him close enough to me.  God, how I wanted this guy.  I was scratching and pulling hair, he was manhandling me in such a way that I am blushing as I write this.  It was animalistic, urgent, and just fucking hot.  Damn I have missed sex with this guy.

M: Next time, I will make sure you have a bed, and a hell of a lot more of my time.

Christ.

Much love, Esme