So, I'm more happy and confused.

Boyfriend # 1:
S.O. is not leaving me.
S.O. is so frustrated professionally that he could scream like a girl, but he is not leaving me.
He actually seems happier with me all of a sudden too.
I think for this past week he's been distant because of his ideas for moving.
Now, he answers the phone on the first ring when I call, and he's made plans with me to go out tomorrow regardless of any work he has given to him (so he says).

Boyfriend # 2:
S.Y. has called me today
S.Y. never calls me, I always call him.
I went to my parent's home briefly before heading back to M.W.'s house.
I wanted to see how many letters I still had of his.
He use to write me letters all the time.
From Greece when he went, from his parents house when he visited, from everywhere.
When I pulled out the box, on top there was a picture he drew for me.
As I looked at it, my phone rang, with the first call from him in a long time.
I told him what I was doing.
He said he still had all 39 of my letters.
And he wants to talk tonight.

My weekend/end of week has been eventful.
Right now I'm in St. Louis.
Trying to have a good time.
It's hard after the Thursday night I had.
To sum up my Thursday night, I'm posting the exact e-mail I sent M.W. when she asked me via e-mail what I did that night.

M.W.,
Last night I left I.D. and S.Y.'s house to walk to S.O.'s house.
It was 1 in the morning
S.Y. asked why I was leaving and I told him I didn't feel comfortable sleeping here with him. {before our history together, we would sleep in the same bed if there was no room elsewhere}FabulouslyNew {new friend} had the couch and I was offered S.Y.'s bed.
I called S.O., and he said "come on over." So I asked S.Y. for an umbrella because it was raining. S.Y. hesitated at first like he wanted to say something, but then gave me the umbrella.
I.D. and F.N. were already passed out.
S.Y. and I were completely sober.

About 2 blocks away, I get a call from S.Y. who asked me to stop wherever I was and tell him what street I was on. I asked why, and he said because he was running after me but had a hurt leg and it was hard to run. I stopped and told him the street, and in the pouring rain, S.Y. ran up to me.
I asked what he was doing, and he said he didn't know, but that I shouldn't walk home alone.
He started walking with me, arm around me, I felt uncomfortable but I went with it.
S.Y. told me that he loved me.
First time ever, sober.
He tried to start talking about "us" and "we" and how serious I was with S.O.
I told him that I couldn't continue the conversation because I was with S.O., and it was unfair to him to even have this conversation to begin with.
S.Y. said fair enough.
He went home.
I continued onto S.O.'s house.
After I got there, S.O. and I were cuddling when he told me that he might not be here when I came back Monday. {from St. Louis}
I asked where he was going, and he said, "Chicago"
For how long I asked
He said, "Probably until I move to Stanford."
At this I realized this was a serious move.
He told me that he is upset with his job and his boss and he feels he's not going anywhere professionally in it. He thinks that it's best for him to move on and cut his losses than to stick around being miserable.
I didn't say much, other than, to at least wait until I came back on Monday so I could say goodbye to him. He agreed, rolled over, grabbed my arm, held it against his chest, and then went to sleep after 30 minutes.
I cried sliently to myself after he went to sleep. I got only two hours of sleep that night.

That was my night.
How was yours?
Q.S.W.

I'm sooo frustrated right now.

S.O. is busy and I haven't seen him since Sunday.
I'm trying to be REALLY understanding about this.
So far so good.
Only one text message and a phone call.

It is so hard though.
Especially when ladies in my office ask me how he's doing
and I say, "Good, I haven't really seen him since Sunday, cause he's busy"
Then they all get this look on their faces like, "Ut oh"
ARGH.

I finally caved today.
I sent him a text message that basically asked him to make time for me around 8 in the evening.
It wasn't that demanding, but pointed.
I'm leaving for St. Louis tomorrow and I won't be back until Tuesday.
I just don't want to go 8 days without seeing him when we live in the same town.
Sigh.
I probably shouldn't have.

Last night I.D. invited me over to sit back and relax on his porch.
I came over and he and I sat outside for awhile.
S.Y. came out later (I.D. and S.Y. are now going to live together)

We drank and relaxed and had a good time.
From 5:30 till 10:30 we sat and drank.
Not quickly.
Very slowly.

At 10, I realized I should go home soon.
I walked inside to call my brother.
While I was on the phone I walked into an empty room in I.D.'s apartment.
Suddenly a voice from behind me said, "Do you like my new room?"
Whirling around I saw that S.Y. had followed me inside, and inside the room.
"It's nice" I say.
He's standing close.
I'm at a loss on what to say.
Suddenly I thought, "You know, I wouldn't appreciate S.O. in this situation."
At that, I turned without a word, walked around him and out the door.
I decided not to wait for my brother to get off work to pick me up.
I started walking.
I wasn't rude.
I said my goodbyes.
S.Y. couldn't understand why I was leaving.
He kept asking why.
I.D. decided in my goodbyes that I should be walked home.
On our walk, I.D. asked why the sudden goodbye.
I realized he was worried about more than just standing alone together.
I laughed and said nothing happened.
Then told him the thought I had standing there.
He said, "Good Girl."

Indiana spurned this blog post, after reading his comments below I wanted to write this.

The Ex and I dated for 2 years.
For the first year I was the happiest mentally and physically I've ever been.
The second year my Ex worried, for the most part, about graduating and getting a job that would let him stay in America (he was Indian).
Sex dwindled.
I understood, my Ex was going through incredible amounts of stress throughout his life and worrying about keeping me happy sexually shouldn't have been one of them.
At the one year, six month mark, sex stopped completely.

I lived with him.
I made dinner, cleaned our apartment, did our laundry, and nightly he would pour over countless amounts of code and interview research and applications.
I complained or said anything only when I felt really left out of his life.
For the most part I suffered in silence.
I would sleep next to the man every evening.
That feeling of a man next to me. Hard body. Usually curled up against me.
At first I could handle it.
I forgot about it until I was getting undressed for the shower, or in the shower, or watching him get undressed.
Since those moments only happened briefly, I dealt with it.
After a while, more and more things happened when I tried to forget.
I would walk down the street and without realizing it, I would fantasize about every guy who walked past me. I would imagine them naked, or kissing me, or what I would do to them.
I wanted to hear the groaning of pleasure, the feel of a kiss, the taste of someone.
I had none of that.
I did not cheat on him.
I did not get close to cheating on him, unless you count my thoughts,
then I cheated on him like a shameless whore.

At the end of a 5 month stretch, we finally had sex again.
By then it was too late.
We weren't smart about each other and we weren't smart about what we were doing.
I had become a sort of mother to him, and he had become my patient.
Our roles weren't healthy anymore.
We started fighting then.
Our fighting lasted for a month before we both admitted what we came to subliminally realize a month earlier.

Lack of sex killed our relationship.

This past weekend.

This past weekend (and week)was eventful to say the least.
With S.Y. coming back into town I feel like I didn't breathe alone more than two minutes since last Tuesday. On top of that Friday and Saturday night I got felt up at the bars we were at. I didn't dress up or wear something revealing, but apparently my ass was just asking to be grabbed. So between that and S.Y. behaving like a two year old, I feel happy I'm dating someone who is more mature than that.

Harry: No man can be friends with a woman he finds
attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.
Sally: So, you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive?
Harry: No, you pretty much want to nail them too.

Some boyfriends in the past have asked me to stop hanging out with S.Y. and I.D.
Sometimes I have.
Especially S.Y., he has a hard time remembering his boundaries when he's drunk.

S.O. is a lot different in this regard. He's already made mention how he's happy I allow him to do what he wants and I'm not overly jealous.
I realized this weekend that S.O. does the same for me.
I am pretty damn honest when it comes to S.Y. and telling S.O. about him.

When S.Y. came up to me and asked, "Where's S.O.?" (S.O. was sitting beside me)
I introduced the two of them to each other.
S.O. is polite and straightforward and for most, instantly charming.
I was worried it wouldn't be the same for S.Y.
I was right.
S.O. persevered though. Talked to him for 5 or 6 minutes like a saint.
S.Y. looked like he was sulking.
I.D. looked at me like, "I told you so."
After those horrible minutes, S.O. went back to talking to a girl from his office.
I went back to talking to S.Y. and I.D.
After about 15 minutes, S.Y. says, "Wow, your boyfriend is so talkative, he hasn't said a word to us."
S.Y. was sulking.
(S.O. is fairly good-looking and has a great personality.)
I was about to roll my eyes at him when S.O. comes back to my side of the table and directly talks to S.Y.
He made it so S.Y. had to have a conversation with him.
Soon after S.O. quietly says something like, "Are you getting tired?"
I wasn't, but I told him I was ready to go when he was.

S.Y. could sit there and sulk for all I cared.
I.D. said, "goodbye dear" and kissed me on the forehead.
S.Y. said nothing.

Over the last 5 years.*

*sub-title 18 vs. 23

While 23 is young and 18 is very young, I still feel I've grown up somewhat (in relationships anyway) over the past 5 years. Here is some examples of how I've changed in romantic feelings.

At 18: I thought it was romantic for my boyfriend to sleep in while I got ready in the morning for class or work. I'd kiss him on the forehead whenever I left the apartment.

At 23: I find it incredibly romantic for my boyfriend to wake up, look at the clock, figure out that it's 7:15 am, look beside him and realize I'm asleep there, then remember that I had to be at work at 8 am, then wake me up, roll over and go right back to sleep.

At 18: I thought it was romantic when my boyfriend took me out to eat and make it his treat.

At 23: I find it romantic when my boyfriend cooks me dinner. Even more romantic: my boyfriend cooking for me because he knows I don't have a home and that I don't want to tread too much on my friend's kindness.

At 18: I thought it was romantic when my boyfriend spent one whole evening with me every weekend.

At 23: I find it romantic when my boyfriend wants to spend time with me and his friends at the same time. Even more romantic: When he wants to cuddle, and play with my hand when they can view it.

At 18: I thought it romantic when my boyfriend would get tipsy and then tell me things like "I think your the best girlfriend I've ever had."

At 23: I don't find my boyfriend getting so drunk that he's falling down, romantic. What I do find romantic is after he gets to that stage admitting things to me like, "The only reason I don't want you to help me out is because it's hurting my pride. I have a lot of male pride, I don't want it hurt." Then after saying that hoping into the shower and humping the door stating "You know you want it."

Saturday at 5 am I found myself standing in my S.O.'s bathroom, watching him hump a shower door, I was wide awake, so I was just patiently waiting on him to figure out that he didn't want to be in the shower. After humping grew old, he tried for 15 minutes to get me in the shower with him. I refused and finally he decided the towel I was holding was much better than the water he was in. I dried him off, dressed him, and all the while I got a mixture of "go to bed," "bitch," "thanks QSW," "Don't make me Danza slap you," "I really appreciate it" and so on.

At some point I would have stopped helping him if I really thought he didn't want it. Even calling me names I would just smile and say, "Oh I know, I'm a horrid bitch." Then he would argue that I wasn't.

So interesting how the idea of intimacy and romantic behavior changes as you grow up.

Update on the characters:

Significant Other: Is now a S.O. of seven months. Currently stressed to the max to get his dissertation done and I have not been able to see him much because of it. I have fallen for him completely but am too chicken shit to admit to him. He probably knows anyway.

Married Woman & Married Man: I’m currently living with both of them. I am homeless for 4 weeks and they have graciously let me stay in their spare bedroom. I also have no car, so they have loaned me one of theirs. I also have no place for all my stuff, so it’s in their garage. Basically, without them I’d be lost completely. I have no idea how I would ever repay them for all they have done for me.

Irish Drinker: Only recently have I realized that Irish Drinker and I have become very close. I’ve always trusted him and called him a good friend, but it took Seven Years to move away before I confided in him completely. I wish I had known him this well a long time ago.

The Ex: Actually it’s my turn to call. I forgot. I need to call him. My office knows him well and the other day one of my co-works brought me a picture of him. Gee. Thanks. He still is working at Amazon all top secret.


Not Gay: Not Gay is still having a lot of problems getting a girl. Part of the problem, he doesn’t trust them. Part of the problem is he refuses to go out and meet them. Part of the problem most of the time I go out with him and one girl wards off other girls no matter how far away I stand from him. Part of the problem, he flirts with me more than he should.

Seven Years: I don’t have much to say about him. A friend once told me, “You two are like When Harry met Sally, except you just don’t realize it yet, so you treat each other like shit.” Maybe there is some truth to that statement.


Big Pervert: Thankfully I’ve not had to deal with him very much. S.O. tells me stories about how he goes on and on about a co-worker’s underwear and yadda yadda…. I’m thankful I only have to listen to the re-told summed up version of the story.
*Update: This weekend I hung out with him and with my S.O.for a good amount of time. The guy is still a pervert, but is turning out to be a very nice one.

Argentinean Man: I think S.O. is trying to keep me away from him after the last outing with him. The last outing involved me getting my face grabbed by him and being forcefully made out with.


Tall Boy: Tall boy has a girlfriend and no one has seen him since.




M Squared: I see him on campus all the time and he always says hi. He seems like a nice guy, but I just don’t know him that well.



Russian Lover: HE SHAVED HIS HEAD. I was so upset when I saw it. So upset that S.O. finally said something like, “Why do you care so much?”
I started behaving after he said that.

S.Y. rolled into town a few nights ago.
First night back wasn’t bad, he, I.D. and I all got hammered together like old times.
Second night was a different story.
I’ll come back to it though.

S.O. has been swamped at work.
He’s promised to make me dinner today after work.
I’m very excited.
Whether or not this will happen because of his work schedule is beyond me.
But because of his work schedule, I’ve only talked to him once very briefly yesterday where I found out what he’s been up to the last few days, but he was so busy he didn’t ask the return question. I honestly wouldn’t care except that was going to be my cue to say, “Hey my buddy S.Y. is back in town!”

Sigh.

I got a little tipsy with my S.O. the other evening and became really honest with him.
He started asking questions about S.Y. and I started answering them, and then elaborating.
I feel I have nothing to hide. We got drunk/tipsy a few times, moved forward into a stage where we considered dating each other, then moved away back into friendship. We basically crossed the friendship line and then ran back after we crossed it. I told S.O. this. I.D. thinks I’m a dumb ass for doing so. Maybe I am, but at least I’m honest, I hate lying.

So S.O. has been busy. So last night I.D. called me to tell me that S.Y. and N.G. were over at his house and everyone was drinking beer on his porch. I.D. has one of those huge porches that look like something out of Gone with the Wind and it curves back along the side of his house. I love to relax there. So I headed over.

Everything was fine. I.D. and I have become significantly closer in the last 6 months and S.Y. could sense it. Top that with the fact that I.D. really likes S.O. Top that with 6 months of stories that S.Y. was not a part of.
I think S.Y. was feeling unloved.

So, S.Y. turned the attention to “me and him”. The “me and him” that we decided against. The “me and him” that everyone (including me) was politely ignoring and pretending never happened.
The conversation was on woman’s breasts. I.D., N.G. and S.Y. had different tastes in them and they were getting my opinions on differences in their tastes (this is a fairly common conversation topic). S.Y. starts off the “me and him” conversation by saying, “Well, Q.S.W. over here went from flat-chest to nice breasts over night.” I rolled my eyes at him and said, “A sign when you’ve known someone too long, they’ve watched you go through puberty.” Everyone laughed, conversation went back to topic.
His next attempt was a little worse. S.Y. has “slept” with many of my roommates. It’s a running joke now. “Slept” entails fooling around but pants are kept on, because A.) this only happens when everyone is really trashed and B.) S.Y. has whiskey dick.
S.Y. says, “Q.S.W. has better breasts than all of her roommates combined.”
A momentary-awkward-as-hell-pause later, I.D. saves me and says, “Yes, but that doesn’t make up for the huge dick she has.”
Everyone laughs, and we struggle quickly to get back to conversation.
S.Y. decides to get out his boxing gloves after this point.
He then says (directly to me, ignoring I.D. and N.G.’s conversation) “But, you are more psychotic than your last roommate, you got upset at me when we ended.”
N.G. and I.D. stopped talking.
I looked at S.Y. very seriously and said, “I really don’t count that time period as a “we.”

I did get upset. One night for 15 minutes, I got upset. S.Y. handled the end of “us” like a 12 year old. He actually got upset that I wanted to talk about the situation during the middle of his, “Lion King and pizza” evening. When he got bent out of shape about that, I got bent out of shape and upset.

S.Y. says, “Why are you getting upset again? I’m complimenting you!” I laugh and say, “S.Y. comparing breast on a woman in front of that woman is not usually considered a compliment.”
Then I said my goodbyes.
S.Y. asked me to stay, said he was sorry, I said no.
I.D. hugged me and said, “Goodbye dear.”
Probably didn’t make the situation better.

Last night my friend of seven years came waltzing back into town.
I.D. and S.Y. immediately went out to the bars, followed by a "Whoops, quick call to Q.S.W."
Followed by Q.S.W. heading out to the bars.

We were doing shots at 1:30 a.m.
Finally by 2:20, I decided it was time for me to leave.

It was good to have him back though.

After getting locked out of my apartment for part of the weekend,
and spending a lot of time with the S.O.
I realize that I'm a complete dumb ass when it comes to:
a.) relationships
b.) opposite sex
c.) reassurance

All week long at that back of my head i've wondered if something happened between S.O. and I.
I didn't dare ask him.
I didn't dare let him know I felt that.
I kept everything to myself and M.W.

After Saturday night and Sunday all day,
I realize I shouldn't have worried.
I feel like an idiot.

Last night instead of running through the streets away from the bull's horns
I turned around, faced the bull, and waited.
I found out the bull doesn't really want to impale me, he just wants his head scratched.

Kind of crazy, now that i think about it.

Thursday S.O. said he'd call me around 8 on friday and that we would hang out.
He decided not to go to Chicago.
At 9, I finally called him.
(this is normal between us)
He chatted with me happily for a few minutes,
until I asked what he was doing tonight.
He acted weird.
Then told me that a bunch of his buddies were going out and so was he.
I was kind of hurt.
He said he'd call me when they were all heading out so I could meet up.
I sighed quietly to myself.
About ten minutes later I decided to leave M.M. and M.W. house and head over there.
I showed up at his door step.
He was surprised to see me.
I told him.
"Look, I know you don't want me there on guy's night out, but I still want to see you, so I'm going to spend an hour now with you because tomorrow and Sunday you are working all day and evening. "
He smiled at me.
"Wanna take a shower with me?" he said.
He hasn't asked me to do this for at least 4 months.
"Sure" I say.
Hot and steamy.
Kissing here.
Kissing there.
Wrapped up in each other's arms.
Feeling heightened because of the water hitting our skin.
When the magic was over,
I kissed him goodbye.
He stopped me and asked what I was doing on Saturday.
I told him I didn't have plans.
Said that he was only going to work until 9, then he'd be home alone, watching a movie, drinking cocktails, unless I was willing to join him.
I said I was willing.

It's me again

October was an interesting month.
My friend of 7 years,
decided he wanted more.
Nothing truely happened,
but a lot was said.

November came and went.
And we mended our friendship
the best we could.

December came and I wanted to move on.
I asked S.O. out.
The rest is history.

My friend of 7 years left in December.
Two weeks after I asked S.O. out.
Moved to Australia for 7 months.
July 18th he will return.

I'm not sure how my wonderful group,
will act with his return.

I love how simple men are.
I do not mean that in a bad way.
I mean if A + B = C
Then C is really all that matters.
It's the simple way to think.

I think with some woman it's:
If A came by way of E and E somehow followed H, but then B was minus Q for awhile, then even if A + B = C,
C is still muttled and you should always take in factors of E, H, and Q.

Right now I'm somewhat confused by my own writing of that.

Anyways, on so many occasions, I've come across women who think like that. I, myself, have thought like that (see post below). It's only because I've thought that way, that I can truely appreciate a male looking at A and B and seeing that C is the only thing that matters.

A lot of women like games, I did for a long time. I met a man (EX) who taught me that games were the only thing bringing down my past relationships. I grew up a lot because of the EX. I'll always appreciate his honesty and frankness when it came to my insecurities and games. Men play games too, but from my experience it's usually in defense mode instead of attack.

Tonight after not talking to my S.O. for a day and a half and leaving his apartment with a weird feeling that I had somehow screwed up... I text messaged him. I did need his help. I didn't want to hang out ( I made sure I was certain of that before I messaged), I just needed his help for 20 minutes. I currently have no vehicle, the head gasket blew, and I've been stuck without a car for some time now. I needed to run to the store, and all my friends are currently busy or working. It's fine, I could wait, but I also wanted to clear the air between S.O. and I. I always call S.O. , so leaving the calling up to him was a little weird for me.

I text messaged him, asked him if he had a free moment to do me a favor, but if he were busy not to worry about it. I set down the phone at my monitor, walked 6 feet into my living room and my phone started ringing.
I don't know if he's ever responded that quickly to one of my messages.
He said he'd just bring me his supply so that way I didn't have to even go to the store.

He had to work tonight, I kind of thought he would, but he stood outside my apartment going through the game 20 questions about everything I had done from Wednesday morning till now, and everything I was going to do from now until this Sunday.

I know, he just looked at the situation(see post below) as A + B = C, and for that I'm grateful I'm dating him and not anyone else.

Last night was the first time my S.O. and I ever got into a "discussion."

6 months (almost 7 geez.. this summer is flying) we've never strayed from our easy going manner and our joking around. Until yesterday. I came over (I called and asked if he wanted to hang out, he said yes) and when I got there he was cleaning. After he was done cleaning, everything I said or did suddenly became a huge annoyance to him (something that's never happened before). Then he started snapping at me (something that has only happened once before this night, and never repeatedly). Then at 11, he suddenly decided he was tired, crawled into bed and faced the wall away from me.
I know I have done nothing to deserve this treatment. So, being a woman, my mind starts to race through every thing that could have possibly made him behave like this.
Number one thing: he's met someone else (because when you've been cheated on once, that is somehow the logical choice for every other relationship, sometimes I hate being a woman)
So I very nicely asked for him to talk to me.
He rolled over, I asked him 20 questions about why he was behaving this way. His answers where usually "behaving what way?!" or "What are you talking about?!"
Finally, I gave up the questions.
He immediately rolled over and "went back to sleep."
Frustrated, upset, and wanting to cut my losses, I said, "S.O. I'm going home."
At this he rolled over, sat up, and asked "why?"

My frustration point reached an all new level.

Instead of blowing up, I just simply said, "because you are behaving like a jackass whether you want to admit it to yourself or not."
At this comment he suddenly let loose all the things that were bothering him.
He said he had had a long day at work, because he had an 18 year old follow him around all day asking him 20 questions, and when he got home all he wanted to do was clean his apartment for a bit and then go out, but once he got done with just his bathroom, he didn't want to go out, he just wanted to be alone, and then I showed up and he couldn't ask me to leave because I was already there... Yadda yadda...
All of which he couldn't say at 9 when I arrived.
After all this was out, he started behaving normally. Even cuddly and cute.

WTF?

ok this is funny

My first post today was depressing.
I left it anyway, because you need the good with the bad.
The second post was spurred from Kiss N Blog's post about the gorgeous Italian soccer player and their link to Meg's blog.
At my old blog I use to have a monthly story about some random fellow I'd meet during my travels (not all of them had sexual implications), and this was one of the monthly stories.

Maybe that's why I like reading The Dog's Name's blog so much, I like his random telling of past excursions.

Assisi

My time in Assisi was very short. I would have liked to have spent a month there.
I didn't, I only spent 2 days there.
The first day was filled with exploring the town and taking tours of the church. Assisi is absolutely breathtaking to see. From far away it looks like any little town in Italy, but once you start roaming the streets and visiting the shops, you find something wonderful. It was such a quaint and peaceful town, you felt like you could breathe easier there. The church/monastery itself was a building you could spend most of the day in.
Over all I loved it.

The second day was a day just to relax and enjoy the town while we were there. Since I had explored the town heavily the day before, I decided today was a day I could just enjoy myself and the atmosphere of Assisi.
I was sitting at a fountain, reading my book, when I felt someone looking at me.

(Pause: Leading up to our time in Assisi, I had some run-ins with Italian men. I had been felt up twice, backed down an alley way, and had things said to me in Italian that I'm sure I would have blushed at knowing their meaning.)

I was sure it was another Italian man noticing an American woman (seemed almost like a game: "Who can get the American woman to blush first"), so I determinedly stared at my book without looking up. I felt someone sit down nearby. "Shit," I thought, "I hope this one isn't as bad as the guy who used his member to feel up my leg."
A flower was placed between the pages of my book.
I looked up, and there beside me was a fairly attractive Italian man. He said hello and then immediately asked me if I was American and staying at a nearby hotel.
At this point, all frustration on the male race just gathered to the point where I just let it go, and laughed. His English was somewhat broken and he seemed more of a romantic than the others, so I suspected he didn't mean to imply what he did, and a few minutes later my suspicions where confirmed when his eyes got wide and he started to say something along the lines of "I do not think you are an American prostitute."

Whether he was a supreme Italian player, or just a little naiveté, he won. He got my attention. We talked for a bit about small things, life in America, life in Assisi, and how long I was there for. We had started walking at some point, wandering the streets and looking in shop windows. We came to a little alleyway that I had come across the day before and we stopped to enjoy the view. He put his arm around me and said something in Italian that could have been “whore” for all I know, I didn’t care I wanted to have the feeling of a romance novel at that point. I had only been with two men when this happened, and I had kissed only a few more. I felt his grip grow tight and I looked up at him. He kissed me. I could feel the kiss grow harder and I knew he wanted me as much as I did him. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep with him, he didn’t know that, it was obvious from his pants. Whether I was a supreme American tease or just a little naiveté, I won the battle of who was going to have my pants.

It's raining here.
Fitting for my mood.

Have you ever made a mistake,
and feel that you can't convince anyone,
that thats all it was?

My S.O. is a saint.
Easily forgave me.
I could tell he was wary.
He forgot quickly though.

My friends are the ones
who seem to be bothering me.
They haven't so easily forgotten.
In fact, they are keeping this miserable feeling alive for me.
I told them what happened.
And I caught the sideways glances.
M.M. says, "You are a beautiful, smart woman,
but if you don't let the past go, it will hinder your
relationships."
M.W. says almost nothing, which is the scariest for me.
I.D. says, "Wow, when did you become the psycho girlfriend?"
S.O. says, "Why?" hears my answer then says, "Come here." and kisses me.

I didn't think what I did was so bad.
But apparently I have a lot to learn.

Diary of an insane woman with bad insecurities.

I need to vent.
I can safely say that the events told about are all my fault.
This doesn't make me feel better.

It all started on Friday.
Friday my S.O. left me for Chicago.
I felt lonely, but I refused to call him.
Same with Saturday.
I was determined to leave him alone so he could have a good time and not have to worry about me.
Sunday came, and he told me that he was definitely coming home Sunday.
He went to the White Sox game that went into it's 19th inning.
I kind of wondered if he would really come home.

So at 10:30 at night, I called him.
No answer.
I left a message saying please call.
Never called.
At 4:30 in the morning, I woke up worrying for no reason.
Women just have to worry, something about our genetic code.
I text messaged him.
No answer.
I finally made it back to sleep.
7 am I woke up for work.
So tired.
Needed my book for my job.
Couldn't find it.
Thought for a minute, and realized I probably left it at S.O.'s apartment.
Shit. shit. shit.
As I was walking to work, I noticed that S.O.'s car wasn't there.
He did stay in Chicago.
Good I thought, I'll run up, knock on his door (just in case), then let myself in, get my book and then I'll be good for the day.
Did just that, except when I got in, S.O. was there.
I had woken him walking in.
SHIT. SHIT. SHIT.
He didn't act mad that I was there.
But I felt sooo bad.
Looking back on it, my actions look bitchy.
I'm so miserable.
I walked in, said I was sorry three times while madly looking for my book.
WHICH I DIDN'T FIND!
He was red in the face from sleeping.
He shook his fist at me in that cute sort of way.
Laid back down.
I left as quickly as I came in.
Without saying goodbye.
I feel horrible.

So... this happened last week, but it's being shared today because today marks another day where my S.O. leaves me for Chicago.
Sigh.

So last week I was waiting outside of my S.O.'s apartment for M.W.
She was to pick me up and make me dinner since 1.) I had no car
and 2.) I was lonely because I had not seen S.O. for 5 days.

I was sitting downstairs, outside the coffee shop where I use to work and where I met S.O. when R.L. came walking around the corner talking on his cell phone.
He said hello as he walked past, but he was talking in Russian to someone on the phone.
I sat outside thinking to myself that it wasn't fair to S.O. that I stared that hard at his ass when he walked past, when he came back with an espresso and cigarettes.

He was off his cell phone by this point, and as he walked towards me, I knew his plan was to sit right next to me.
He did, and as he started talking to me, I tried with all my might not to think of him naked.
This was fairly hard to do, and eventually I caved.
He was wearing loose jeans but a shirt that showed every dip and curve on his very musclar chest. I even watched, much to my horror, his shirt raising up to reveal a very sexy hip dip as he went for his cigarettes in his pocket.

He asked me were my S.O. was, and I refrained (luckily) from saying "who?"
I told him, and then he told me a story about his work place and yadda yadda, who knows, his accent was the only think I was listening too.

Right about the time I was side glancing watching him sip his espresso (his goatee came up and just slightly brushed the demitasse cup) M.W. pulled up to pick me up.

I (maybe more quickly than I should of) excused myself.

I got to the car, and M.W. waved hello to R.L.

We drove off.

About 3 minutes into our silence, M.W. says, "Damn, he's hot."

I didn't have to ask who she meant.

So S.O. and I have been spending a lot of time together.
One, because he left for vacation for a week, and now he's back only until the end of the day today, and then he's gone again until Monday.
Q.S.W. is a little sad and lonely.

A few nights ago, S.O. did one of his famous "asshole speeches."
These, in the beginning, frightened me because it was basically him trying like mad to convince me that he was a utter and total asshole. Thankfully, I realized at some point that all the reasons he would give me during these little speeches were shoddy and full of holes. So basically when they happen now (at least once a month, and usually he's inebriated), I just nod my head and say things like, "Ok Dear."

So back to a few nights ago.
He starts out on one of his speeches.
He starts giving me reasons, most of those reasons are things I've done too, which puts me in the asshole category too.
So finally, tired and wanting to sleep, I say,
"Yes, you've done all those things, what do you want me to say?
Do I care? No.
Do they hurt me? No.
Especially when you take up an argument with me on the fact that I need to take your car to drive home 3 blocks because there is a 30 percent chance of rain out.
If you really want to be an asshole, you might want to re-think those arguments."

At this, he grinned like he was 12, and buried his face in my neck.

I guess males need reassurance just as much as females do.

An S.O. story.

**I hope to get the server problems fixed before this weekend hits

My S.O. is quite the colorful man, with a very wild past and a future that has him sitting in a lab day in and day out.
When he was my age (he's 3.5 years older than me) he sowed some oats so wild I was shocked to hear about them the first time. The shock factor has slowly gone away, (Aka, I realized that he's not like that now) and I've been able to really enjoy the stories he tells of his past.

Here is by far my favorite:
(Told like he tells it)

So my buddy and I went to this party and this one girl kept hitting on me repeatedly. She was a dog, I mean, I wouldn't have been caught dead in public with her. So she keeps on and on, and finally I get frustrated and I tell my buddy that we should go. We do, and I'm about 3 blocks away when I realized I left my sweater at this party.
So we turn around and head back.
When we get there we find out that not only is my sweater gone, but this girl took it back to her apartment. So we start off towards her apartment.
(brief interruption by me)
Q.S.W.: So wait, this is just a sweater right? Why didn't you just leave it?
S.O.: I really loved this sweater.
Q.S.W.: (smiling to herself) riiiiight...

So Anyways! I get to this girl's house and she immediately runs upstairs with my sweater. So I follow her up and she starts playing keep-away with me.
S.O.: (looks at me) please forgive me for this, I'm not like this anymore.
So she obviously wants me to fuck her. So one thing led to another and I did.
So about 15 minutes later...

Q.S.W.: Man, you didn't last long those days.
S.O.: Be quiet

So about 15 minutes later, I'm walking downstairs with my sweater and she was about 1 step behind me looking really proud of herself. At the bottom of the stairs is my buddy, and a whole bunch of her friends. My buddy looks at me, and says, "so how was it?"
I just looked at him and said, "Man, it was like throwing a hot dog down a hallway."

And yes, my S.O. has changed quite a bit since then, but this story will live on and on.

C & F

**currently having server problems which is why my pictures don't work

How do I begin?
This post is about cunnilingus.
There I said it.
When my S.O. first went down on me,
I found him horrible at it.
He apparently found me
fantastic at fellatio.

So after a few more times of trying
he must have realized that
I didn't really enjoy it.

So February, March, April, May pass by
I performed Fellatio
he was just fantastic at sex.
it kept me happy
and him as well.

So June starts.
One very drunk evening
He wanted to 69.
I found this odd after
February, March, April, May
But went for it anyway.

He was fantastic.
I decided it was either the 69 or the booze.
A few more times it happened that way.
Bad, to nothing, to fantastic and happening on a week to week basis.

Last week in June.
He's in Vegas.
He came back Monday.
It's been Monday and Tuesday.
Once it's happened drunk,
Twice it's happened sober,
And one of those sober times
wasn't 69.
He remained fantastic.

So tell me readers.
What makes a guy go from
horrible to fantastic
in a 4 month time span
while not practicing?

And what makes a guy go from
Once in awhile,
To 3 times in 48 hours?

I'm puzzled but happy.

It's funny to me, that when you are dating someone, that their apartment becomes something that you try to keep the same.

His apartment.
I make sure.
The seat,
is always up...