My Babies are in heaven

B fucked up so badly, I'm not entirely sure I won't kill him. But, there's been enough of that today....

He had Lucy Goose, Horace, and Baby Gauge for the weekend, at his request. Apparently, he went and stayed with his girlfriend, and left them home alone, during a heat wave, with no food or water. He's had issues with the neighbor before; when they went to investigate the THREE DAY LONG BARKFEST, they were "attacked".

He left my babies home alone, with no food, no water. The neighbors pressed charges, saying the dogs were dangerous; there's a court order that they need to be exterminated.

Thus.

Lucy has gone to the big heaven in the sky, with her brothers. I stayed with Lucy Goose, the first one to go, the one who grew up with Foxy, met him the first day he came home from the hospital; I held her close, my hand over her heart, so I could make sure that she went peacefully. And then, Gauge. Finally, Horace.

I can hardly type, much less breathe. They saved my life, one day, when B got.....out of control - and now, I have to put them down.

It’s too bad, really, as the one who should have been put down, won’t be, and the ones that shouldn’t were.

Dinner Date

I’m supposed to be showering off the effects of both a quite excitingly stressful day - started the new job - and, a VERY FUCKING STRESSFULL 36 hours, to get ready to head to the Capitol Grille for dinner, with M. I’m thrilled about dinner; I only wish that the last 36 hours could either be further away from now? or, not occurred at all. I’m exhausted, from the mental and emotional roller coaster ride; I’m quite fearful I’ll doze off during dinner.

Like before it’s even served.

However, in honor of this auspicious occasion, I’ve purchased a new pair of three inch black Ann Klein shoes, with the wicked cutie little bow on the peep toe, as really, one needs new shoes in times of stress. Plus. Ahem. M has already seen all the shoes I own - both pairs - so clearly, I needed to add to the er, collection.

I also added new undies, which I’m giving considerable thought to wearing under my cranberry swing coat (it’s 50s and raining out here) sans……………dress………………you know, just to see if he notices. They’re cranberry too.

As I’d gotten news that just proves how big a dick some people can be, I wanted new things that have never seen the eyes of a man, at least, not on me, so I wouldn’t be remotely reminded of HIM while out having a good time. Because, clearly, the Dylan Rules apply: no talking about exes, work, how life is a zoo…..only smiles, and laughter, having a great time, and remembering that life is fabulous, with much to offer.

So it’ll be a bit of a stretch on my end. I’ll let him do most of the talking. Or maybe, we’ll just stare into each other’s eyes all night. He’s sooooo damn funny. He sends me the email invite, from the Grille, complete with weather info! so I can plan accordingly, what I wear (yes, he already knows I’m a huge clothes horse…but so is he) and all I care about honestly, is spending the night with him. Staring at him. I cannot seem to get enough - only then, the room feels too hot, and I get all flustered, so I have to look away…only to be drawn back in. He has the most amazing eyes.

He’s too damn cute. He knows that I prefer to get to a great resturaunt, in time to have a snotty cocktail at the bar, partially sipped, so I can watch the matre’ di carry it to my table, while I sashay behind him in impossibly high but still comfy heels. Heels I’ll kick off, while ordering with impeccable manners, so I can tuck my toes up under me. I always find the chairs too damn low! I hate feeling as though I’m sitting at a high chair.

But………………………….already? Thinking about tonight? Lots of today just melted away.

I don’t know where the two of us are going?

But I kind of like where we are. A lot.

Voice Overs

The words just tumbled out of me today - totally uncontrolled, white-hot, ugly; they burned both me and him. My tongue, his feelings, stung both our pride. I don’t know how to go back and undo that moment - and boy, do I wish I could - I went from tying to get away, and find a way to process the fact that I think he’s bored with me in bed, and maybe, out of it, and shit, maybe B was right, and I went from great to sucky in a short time, only to find that it’s not at all like riding a bike - maybe I just stayed bad in bed. I’m so egotistical to think I’m good in it - only to find I couldn’t get him….to…er…finish. So instead, as I lay there in what used to be Her Side of the bed, and then, took a shower in what used to be Her Shower, dried off with Her Towels, it just hit me…maybe, just maybe?

He wished I was Her.

I felt totally …. shamed. All these things that B used to say, that I’d shoved behind this huge door, and stuffed a fat man in front of, came flooding back, and I’m driving, to get H, and he’s called, left a message - he thinks that I found something, or something happened to H, and I wouldnt’ tell him - and he just doesn’t get it. I should - no, I need - to talk to him, not leave him wondering what in hell happened. Only in my head, I only hear B, and his white-hot words flooding my mind, screaming in my ears, making me doubt every step I’ve made since then.

Why am I to think that someone might fall for me?

How do I start that conversation? The one raging in my head, with voice overs of B, drowning out every sane thing I’ve got to say, pounding into me I’m Stupid, Useless, A Really Lousy Lay, I would be Lucky To Have Him Love Me, No One Else Will.

What am I supposed to say? I feel a failure for not getting you off? I wondered if you’d rather I was a long legged blond who treated you so poorly it makes my stomach churn and my heart ache? That maybe, somewhere along the way, I think perhaps a tiny piece of me has fallen for you, and I can’t let that happen, because you won’t? I won’t be the first one to share my Halloween candy; I’m not sending cards I won’t get back, or emails that go unanswered; I won’t be That Girl who falls for Mr. Unavailable.

Been There. Done That. He married someone else.

Nope. I have to call him back, attempt to be gracious, and get time to marshall my thoughts, frame my words - and then he just…pressures me into telling him, and he got this voice, like it wasn’t important, and he didn’t even call me back. I … snapped…something ugly, uncalled for, mean. Really mean. Low even. I immediately apologized - but, like all burns, it was too late. All the butter in the world was not going to soothe this one.

He thinks I wanted an apology! I don’t want - nor do I need - an apology from him - and that’s whats quite confusing; how we went from the fact that I feel a failure, to I was blaming him! I’d never blame him for my feelings….

Either way, it seems, the outcome is the same. I’m going to bed with no goodnight call. Without his voice in my ear.

More alone than I’ve felt in a long time.