Tag Archives: love

Epic Battle #1-One For Our Record Books

7 Jun

Two or three days after Loverboy commenced the Silent Treatment-I lost count while I was insanely flashing back-I got a call from L.  It was during the day, so I knew he was at work.  Hmm…not much conversation can happen while one is working…

L: Esme, hey.

E: Hey?

L: What are you up to?

E: Nothing?

L: How have you been?

How have I been??  Are you fucking kidding me??

I unleashed.  I told him how much he has hurt me the last few days.  Explained the dark place he sent me to.  How incredibly barbaric it was of him to Silent Treatment me when he knows my past.  In turn, he told me how much he was looking forward to that night with me.  How for six months he has been talking about me non-stop to his family, and he was so excited to show them this ‘amazing woman who wanted to date’ him.

Loverboy gave me pause.  Was this argument all about that?  The fact that he just really wanted to introduce me to his family, to ‘show me off’, so to speak?  Not that that revelation excused his behavior toward me the following days, but I am friends with enough dudes to know that the introduction of someone you are in love with is a huge fucking deal.

L got choked up, and asked if I could just come over that night to talk.  I agreed, as this conversation would be way more productive in person.

After the Silent Treatment started, I had walked around my house gathering up all of his shit, including everything he had ever given me.  Sooo…it is safe to say I was fucking pissed.  I grabbed the pile off of my kitchen table, and took it with me.  Why?  I’m not sure.  To let him know I was pissed?

When I walked in the door, I plopped the pile on his kitchen table.  L just looked at me.

E: This is all your shit that was at my house, and I am tired of looking at it.

Loverboy was rendered speechless.  After a minute or two, he crossed the kitchen and took me into his arms.  After a few seconds, I hugged him back.  And we stood in silence for several long moments and just hugged.  We needed that, it calmed us down.

We were able to have a very calm, rational discussion following that hug.  He explained that he was so upset at the situation, he could feel himself taking it out on me, which he didn’t want to do.  So in his weird male-hormoned brain, not talking to me made more sense.  I explained why he can’t give me the Silent Treatment.  I gave him an alternative-please just tell me you are angry at me or at a situation, and you need to calm down before we can discuss it rationally.  He agreed to be more forthcoming about his feelings, and I accepted what he said at face value.  Can I promise to not revert when Silent Treatment is given again?  Nope.  But I did promise that if he ever gave me the Silent Treatment again, he would never have to bother calling me.  EVER again.

For a few days we had an uneasy alliance.  You know those first few days after a major blowout and everyone is walking on egg shells?  We did that.  And one day, it was just all better.

The scare seemed to change Loverboy.  He is a lot more open with his feelings, often telling me how lucky he is, how great I am, how he loves me, etc.  He is more touchy-feely in front of family (before he would barely hold my hand).  The changes have definitely been positive, and make me feel much more appreciated.

We will see how it goes.

On the This shit only happens to me front…

I met Loverboy’s new neighbors the other day.  Neighbor caught sight of my firefighter plates on my vehicle, and inquired to where I work.  I told him, and he asked me if I knew Ambulance Guy.

Are you fucking kidding me??  Ambulance Guys brother moved in next door to my boyfriend?!?

I can just see this going down…

Ex-fuck buddy?  Meet boyfriend.  Boyfriend, meet the guy I’d probably be fucking if I hadn’t met you.


Love, Esme


What Happened When I Said ‘IT’.

5 Apr

I finally said it. The ‘L’ word. I didn’t get quite the response I expected.

After an especially emotional lovemaking session, we were laying entangled in each others arms. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, so I blurted it out. Not very slick.

Loverboy stopped kissing my neck and said ‘what?’

I took a deep breath and repeated myself.

I love you. I do.

Loverboy smiled at me, a million dollar smile that I wish you could capture on film. Wow, he said. Wow.

Loverboy looked into my eyes for a long time, then fell asleep.

He never said it back, or has even acknowledged I said it since. He once told me that he never told his ex that he loved her, as he feels actions speak louder than worlds. But then again, he also said he never loved his ex. I think if I keep trying to probe his mind, I will go crazy.

So I said it, and I don’t regret it, because I do.

Right before he fell asleep, Loverboy told me that he wanted to take me to a ‘very nice dinner’ the following day. Turns out, he wound up sick the following day, and now I’m sick. So there hasn’t been much chance to talk about anything.

I’m not going to say it again. But now he can never say he doesn’t know how I feel. And in all honesty, I don’t want to hear it unless he 100% means it. This has been a learning journey for the both of us, and we are definitely learning as we go.

Love, Esme

Mini Freak-out Time?

20 Mar

L: Esme, I forgot to tell you something on the phone earlier.  I got that small dresser back from Son.
E: Awesome.  I know you said you wanted it back.
L: Well, it’s for you to put stuff in.
E: Why would I need a dresser at your place?
L: That way you have some things here if you decide to stay the night?  So you always have spare clothes?  To put things in that you may need.
E: *silence*
L: Look, I know it’s a big step.  But it feels right to me.
E: It is a big step.  A very big step.
L: I really miss you.
E: I really miss you, too.

And I do.  So very, very much.

Love, Esme

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

Not A Great Start To The Year.

20 Jan

So far, it hasn’t been a great year…

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

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.
My only worry is where to stay for Vixens in Vegas 2012.
Love, Esme

Dating On Hold?? Probably…

24 Aug

So despite the fact that I had my heart ripped out of my chest, friends have been trying to talk me into dating again.  I’m still struggling with that decision.  It just feels wrong to date when my heart belongs to someone else.  Being further removed from the situation, I understand their sentiment.  No one wants to see their girlfriend in pain.  What better way to get over a man than to find a new one?  As much as I am fighting kicking and screaming, I have started to see their point.  Not that I agreed to date, but I saw their point.

It’s like Karma has decided that I am not ready to date.  OK, so I am probably reaching here, but I have to tell myself these things to make me feel better 😉

I went to the doctors the other day, and I was told the one thing I DID NOT want to hear.  Esme, you need surgery.  That shoulder is just not getting better.

Fuck fuck fuck shit FUCK.  I feel like I am saying these words a lot lately.  Surgery??  I don’t have time for surgery!  The only family I have in this state are my kids.  Shoulder surgery would leave me incapacitated for weeks.  My mom will come out for the first week, it’s all she can take off of work.  So now I have to figure shit out I didn’t think I had to figure out.  Thank God I have some great friends.

I also have some issues going on with the ex-husband as well (controlling abusive PRICK.  He started shit, I’m ending it).  Things I just am not going to blog about.  But basically, the last two weeks have been bad news after bad news after bad news.  I have cried more in the last two weeks than I have the last year.  I blame pain medicine.  That shit turns me into a bitch and depresses me.

So here is my hope.  I have the surgery, and after a realistic time to heal, I am back at 100%.  I can finally get off the pain medicine and get my sassy self back.  Things with my ex work out the way they are supposed to.  That someday soon I will meet Mr.  Tall Dark and Handsome.

I think that none of this is too much to ask.

Oh, and to get laid.  I’d really like to get laid right about now.

Love, Esme