L: Esme, did I ever tell you what my sexual fantasy is?
E: I don’t think so.
L: It’s to get so much sex that I start turning it down.
I have a quiet moment of reflection…
E: And how does it feel?
L: It sucks!! It makes me want to crrrryyyyyyyyy…
Apparently I really really like sex…
Love, Esme
Loverboy and I were playing Call of Duty and smack-talking. I honestly love days like that…relaxing, no stress, just me and my man.
Until this happened.
He made some remark about my sexual exploits before I met him. He said it joking, so I responded joking. Whatever! I’m not the one that had a threesome!
L: How many partners did you have after your divorce?
E: *still focused on killing the 12 year-old douchebag that just called me a cunt on COD* I don’t know, L. I don’t really keep track. 8? 9?
L: 8 or 9 in three years?!?!
E: Yeah, so? Its like three a year. (as I sat there registering what we were discussing, I’m so glad my brain was smart enough not to spit out a higher number. Especially after his reaction. But since my divorce? Really no clue)
L: That’s a lot!
E: What? No it’s not! I’m sure it rivals your number. And who the fuck cares? It is before I met you. This is a pointless fucking conversation.
L: No, it doesn’t. And no it’s not. I’m bothered by this.
E: *throwing PS3 remote on his chest* And I don’t appreciate being called a slut. You just made me feel horrible for something BEFORE I MET YOU!!! Christ, Loverboy, I am not stupid or naive enough to think you had no sex between your divorce and me. That’s also three fucking years for you! Get a life and get over it!!
I didn’t leave his house, because I knew we needed to rehash this once I calmed down. I went to his room and watched TV, got my heart rate back to normal, and was thinking about finding him to talk. He found me instead.
L: Esme, I am so sorry. You’re right, it’s before you met me, and I was completely in the wrong. I never considered myself a jealous person. With anyone else I may have dated, I could give a rats ass what they did or didn’t do. But for some reason, when you say something about a past relationship, I just get so jealous.
E: There is no reason to be jealous. None. And thank you for being honest, but you have to get the fuck over it. You made me feel like shit, L. And I did nothing wrong. I know Ex-wife cheated on you multiple times, but I’m not her. Just like you aren’t Ex-husband. But the jealousy? I’m not having it. I have a lot of guy friends that I maintain very close relationships to. Are you going to freak out about that? Answer carefully, because people I’ve been friends with for ten-plus years will not go away.
L: No, no problem.
E: If it will make you feel better, I will introduce you to them soon. But jealousy has no place in this relationship.
He said he understood. He apologized throughout the night, did what he could to make up for it.
I gave up so many friends for my ex, I won’t do it again. And hopefully it won’t be an issue again. But it is noted.
Love, Esme
*sigh*
Yes…Medic.
Medic and I have remained friends, which was what my goal was when I cut off our late night trysts last summer. We were friends to begin with, I love just spending time with him and talking to him, and I never wanted that to change. So I ended things before they became difficult or complicated.
So imagine my surprise when, after our normal hey how are you texts, I received this text:
I mean, I’m glad you found your dude and all, but I wish we were still hanging out and all…
Hmm…how to approach this…
E: This would be a really long time to just be ‘hanging out’. Things would be complicated by now, and that’s not something either of us wanted.
M: You’re right. I know.
Dodged a bullet there. The last thing I wanted to admit was that I was starting to look too forward to his visits. We continued our normal back-and-forth banter for a while. I teased him about something, and he said ‘blow me’. I responded with my usual ‘you wish’, then I received this.
M: God dammit, E. I wish we were still doing our thing!!
After sitting on that text for a half-hour, I told him that we had a hell of a time. He agreed, and it hasn’t been brought up since.
Maybe it was already getting complicated.
Love, Esme
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
Words may not accurately describe, so let me insert a picture. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words…
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
So I just got home about an hour ago. And it is 9:45 in the morning. Here is what went down…
When I got to Loverboy’s house, I sat down and had a talk with him about my order of protection and my ex. He sat in silence for a few minutes, and I grew anxious and fidgety. I wasn’t liking where this was headed. AT ALL. He finally spoke:
L: Can I have his number?
E: Whose number?
L: Your ex’s.
E: NO!!
L: I’m not going to call him…while you are here.
E: No. I don’t want you getting involved, but I wanted to let you know in case something happens while we are out. I’m sorry I have to tell you this at all, but you have a right to know.
L: I just don’t understand why he is such a dickhead. You are so nice, why is he like this?
From there we got into a small discussion about abusive individuals, and the behaviors that perpetuate from leaving. When I didn’t feel like discussing it anymore, I just stopped. And he respected that. He held my hand, and told me that if I wanted him to go to court with me to argue for the permanent order later this month, he would take the day off and go with me.
We left for lunch, had a great time, then headed to see a movie. After the movie, Loverboy asked if I wanted to go get a drink. I grimaced, and explained that I was stupid enough to wear new heels on our date today, and the balls of my feet were burning. He laughed, and said that’s what I get for being taller than him, and offered up going back to his place to shoot some pool. I was game, so we went.
I was sitting on the couch, massaging my poor aching feet, and Loverboy was getting us a couple of drinks. I heard the garage door, and I froze. I look over at Loverboy, and he explained his daughter was home (she is 21). I asked if this was bad, and he said no, not at all. But I was panicked. Absolutely panicked. He came over and sat down next to me as she walked into the house. He introduced me, and she held out her hand. She said ‘Esme, it is veeeeerrrrrrryyyyyyyy nice to meet you!’ I said it was nice to meet her as well. She then said she has someplace to be, and left the house. I was so embarrassed. I felt like a teenager that got caught. I later found out that he told her to make herself scarce, which made the embarrassment even worse. What she must think of me…
We played a couple of games of pool, and I found out how much I suck at it. I won one game because he scratched, but it is a victory none-the-less. And I talked smack over it. We were tied 1-1. He then walked slowly over to me and took the pool cue out of my hand. Esme, he said, have you ever made love on a pool table? No, I replied. I haven’t. I tilted me head up to his and whispered that I will have to add it to my list. He lifted me up and sat me on the edge of the pool table. After a very intense make-out session, he grabbed my hand and pulled me off of the table. Upstairs, he muttered. We are going upstairs. I stammered something about needing to play a tie breaking game. I was suddenly really nervous! He said later, and he led me up the stairs.
Let’s just say it was really, really great. Really. I think my nervousness was evident, so he went nice and slow. I was nervous because I like this guy. I do. And I was nervous that it would change things for the worse. That was what I exactly DID NOT want. But I think whenever you introduce sex into a relationship, it always changes it. But how it changes depends on the people involved.
Afterward, we lay there in a sweaty mess breathing heavy. He rolled me over on my side and threw his arm over me. I fell asleep with the biggest smile on my face. I woke up a lot throughout the night. I was worried about what the morning would bring. Loverboy sleeps like the dead. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t snore. He doesn’t steal covers. He had NO IDEA I was tossing and turning. I was glad, I didn’t want to wake him up. I watched him sleep for a while, and finally fell asleep right before his alarm went off for work.
He got up to take a shower, and I got up to get dressed. Please don’t leave yet, he said. Once I got dressed I laid back down and closed my eyes. I woke up when he laid down and snuggled up next to me. We talked for a few minutes, then headed downstairs. I watched him putz around the kitchen while I petted Khloe the Dog. He asked me how I was going to make Christmas cookies with my shoulder being so bad (I had brought it up a couple of dates ago). I told him I wasn’t going to be able to, and he offered to be my kitchen bitch. I told him only if he wore the apron…naked. Loverboy laughed, and agreed. He then also said that after he did some research, he found out The Nutcracker Ballet was going to be in town in a couple of weeks, and would I be interested in going. I was speechless. He actually listened when I talked. It’s like he took notes. I nodded my head, I didn’t trust myself to speak. I put my coat and my scarf on. I looked at my shoes and sighed…I was not looking forward to putting the torture devices back on. Loverboy went to the closet and gave me his slippers to wear home so my feet would be more comfortable. Is this guy for fucking real?? A mirage, maybe??
He walked me out to my car, and gave me a big hug. I gave him a kiss on the cheek since I had morning breath. He remarked that I needed to keep a toothbrush at his place so he could properly kiss me in the morning. WOW. I had no response. He said he would call me later, and I left.
I already got a text this morning that said : Thank you for staying over last night. I can’t wipe this smile off my face!
That, of course, made me smile.
Neither can I.
Love, Esme
I’ve decided to kick of The Year Of Esme. From now until next Halloween…it’s all about me. And anyone else I decide to make it about. Decisions I make will be on my terms. Somewhere in there they will benefit me. I’m done giving so much of myself to everyone else. Along the way…I lose who I am. No more!
And to kick off the new year? I meet with Medic. Oh yes…it was a great start. Damn I love the way he kisses…
Love, Esme
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:
This week hasn’t been a great one. And the awesomeness of it was cumulated yesterday when I found out the my surgery has been postponed. The surgery that took weeks to schedule. Why was it postponed? Because workman’s comp failed miserably at doing their job. Absolutely fucking miserably. Apparently there was particular paperwork to be filed, and my original adjuster dropped the ball. So while she is being investigated, they have to re-investigate my claim. So basically it has to start all over. Fucking phenomenally awesome. Am I the only one this shit happens to? I just want to go back to work!!!!!
Now back to my originally scheduled post.
I am one of those people who puts music to memories. I doubt I am the only one out there who does. Music can make me feel happy, sad, enraged, content. A certain song can open an absolute floodgate of memories and emotions. Some are welcome, some are not. A lot of time I will associate a memory with what is playing on my iPod when a particular event happens. Sometimes a hear a song and I could have written it word for word based on an event that happened. Sometimes there is no good reason as to why a song reminds me of something that has happened. And I seem to like the word ‘happened’ today.
I was listening to my iPod when this song played:
I’ve posted this song in the past. It reminds me word for word of M. I cried for the first time over him in weeks. And I think I needed it. I have been asked out on a number of dates recently, and I have turned all of them down. M still occupies too much of my heart. I know that if I do date someone right now, I won’t give the date a fair shot. I’ll just keep enjoying my Medic time thankyouverymuch.
The only other guy I ever cried over was Perfect. We had a tumultuous relationship, which you can read about by clicking his tag. The feelings I had in that relationship were exponentially worse than they should have been, given the fact it was the first relationship after my divorce. I listened to this song to make me feel better:
But soon after, I was listening to this one:
When I finally am lucky enough to meet my Mr. Right, this is the song that will have to be sung to him (not by me, as I am a horrific singer. But by someone else for me):
This next one I dedicate to my ex-husband. If it weren’t for all of the shit he put me through, I wouldn’t be the person I am today:
This song reminds me of my grandmother:
I dedicate this song to all of the men that have dicked me over-LOVE IT. Listen to the words, and you will see why:
Every time I hear this song it gets me in the mood for a little bit of Medic:
I fell in love with this song after watching Ladder 49 (which almost made me quit the academy!). When I had to fill out the department ‘In case you die in the line of duty’ paperwork, I only had two requests: an all female honor guard and this song. This song reminds me of the sacrifice of those before me (personally and professionally). And it gives me solace that I am being watched over:
There are so many songs, so many memories. I leave you with just one more. So often I am told by well-meaning friends that if I just change a little I would have better luck with dating. What they fail to realize is this-the last time I compromised myself, I wound up in an abusive marriage. I will never again change anything. I will never hide anything. I very much love who I am. I am perfect:
Much love,
Esme
The cop still hasn’t asked me out on a date, and for the most part has tapered off communication. So I’m done. The last thing I am is desperate. As much as I would love to meet up with him (again), I am not going to wait around and/or beg him to go out with me. I made it perfectly clear, once and once only, that I want to see him. I don’t need to reiterate it.
Plus I have a little problem still anyways.
I feel a little guilty trying to date again because I still have feelings for M.
I know they will eventually go away, it will just take some time. I hope he thinks about me all of the damn time. Is that wrong to think? I don’t fucking think so. I just wish the memories and the pain would go away.
Since M has been on my mind lately, I knew I needed a distraction.
Dum dum duuuuummmmmm…that’s right, enter Medic stage left.
Medic has been texting me for the last week or two, and I have been turning him down. I was too busy feeling girlie emotions. Sooo…I decided it was high time to put an end to that bull shit. Plus I really wanted to get laid.
Medic is easy for me. There is absolutely no pretense between us. There is no pretending on why we are getting together. The texts we send say things like You should come over, I want to get laid. or I want to come over, and you are going to rock my world. There is no mistaking what we are looking for, or what we want from each other. Sometimes it is just sex, and other times it is a day-long affair of drinking, talking, than sex.
Today was one of those day-long affairs. He humored me because I am so very bored. Plus, Will is out-of-town on business, so I had our place to myself. He brought the beer, I bought the pizza. We watched Dodgeball. We caught each other up on gossip. Then, and only then, did we get down to business.
Medic had to leave right after, he had to go play volleyball for his department. I was actually sad to see him leave-I still wanted more sex, and more fun time. But it was not meant to be. He gave me a hug and told me he would be over next weekend, and I could have all the time I wanted. I broke the embrace and just stared at him. Do we really not talk much about our personal lives? Apparently not. Medic, I go into surgery next Thursday. I won’t be anywhere NEAR ready for sex next weekend.
Well shit, he replied. Is Will gone any other days before then? I shook my head. Then you are just going to have to come to me before then. I’ll give you enough to last on while you recover some.
Well shit. I think I will.
Love, Esme
I'm Esme.
These are the unbelievable, but true, stories of my dating adventures. I have made a lot of mistakes, but I am having a hell of a good time! And you men...you keep surprising me...and that isn't always a good thing...
Grab me
Love, Esme
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