I have changed

I’ve been fairly quiet on here recently. I used to post constantly about being in love with more than one person. That has changed. I’m not in love with more than one person now. My husband has my whole heart again.

I still love the other two people, but I’m not in love with them. I gave up. The last time I spoke to her in August, she told me I was a very important person in her life. But I haven’t heard anything from since then. I don’t know if she’s alive. I had to let go for my sanity. I never thought we had any chance of a relationship, but I honestly miss the friendship.

With him, falling out of love came in stages. Certain things happened that chipped away at it. He lied to me. He made promises he never intended on keeping. He manipulated me. He tried to gaslight me, telling me I never said things that I know damn well that I said. He told me to go to hell more than once, knowing that I am a Christian, and I believe in hell. He blames everyone else for his actions.

I always knew from the start that we couldn’t have a relationship, but I was still in love with him. But too many things have happened for those feelings to remain. I will always love him, because that is just the person I am. I probably could have stayed in love with him if he had been a different type of person.

I dealt with things by convincing myself that it was meant to happen. That he needed me to prepare for his soulmate. But things have changed with her, and it’s honestly thrown me into some turmoil. If they aren’t meant to be, why did it all happen?

A few nights ago, I wasn’t responding to his verbal bait. I refuse to engage/argue anymore. He told me that I changed. Damn right that I’ve changed. I won’t be manipulated. I’m not going to waste my energy like I used to. At some point, I decided that enough was enough.

Letting go is a relief. I was torn in too many directions. I am so grateful for my husband. He let me deal with things in my own time. He let it die a natural death. He’s a good man. Way too good for me. All of my experiences in the last four years have taught me one thing, and that the man I have is all that I need.

Things have changed with my husband and me as well. Sex used to be such a big factor in our marriage. It’s caused much pleasure, but also caused conflict. It appears that I’m passed my midlife crisis. All the risky behaviors, and the obsession with sex has passed. Although we have gone from the once a day as newlyweds, to once a week as a long time married couple, we still connect emotionally.

I’m not the person I was 4 years ago. I have come to terms to accepting my bisexuality. I honestly don’t like it, and wish it was a choice, but it isn’t one. I no longer obsess about finding a girlfriend/FWB. If it ever happens, that would be wonderful. But I don’t seek anyone else. I don’t engage with horny men online anymore. At one point, I liked doing that, but I don’t now.  It’s too much of a waste of mental energy.

I have changed, physically and mentally. I let go of so many things. I just don’t have the energy for them anymore. My friends are just friends again. No more mooning over them. I am an older, married woman. I love my husband. He’s been the one constant in my life for 24 years now.

I was told that I had changed. It was meant as an insult, but I will accept it as a compliment. I am not what I used to be. I am not too happy about some physical changes, but I am happy about the person I turned out to be. I have always had so much love to give, and I hope that never changes. But I won’t be drawn into being in love. I have the love of my life, and I will be grateful for that the rest of my life.



This post was written in 2014

Life is weird. Love is even stranger. I fell in love with someone I can never be with. I know this, and I accept it. But I can’t say goodbye to him. He started out as a friend, and he’ll always remain a friend. And there is the problem, how do you remains friends with someone you fell in love with? Normal conversations you could have with a regular friend take on a different meaning with someone that you have loved, and had a sexual thing with (even if it was only online).

I am happy he found his person. He deserves to be happy. I want to go back to being just friends. I want to be able to joke about things like before. I don’t want to think about him in ways I shouldn’t be thinking. Is it even possible to go back to just being friends when you’ve already crossed that line?

I know the right thing to do for my marriage is to say goodbye, and break off contact. But I can’t do that. I don’t want to lose J as a friend. My husband knows about J, and he hates it, but he deals with it because he loves me.

I talk to J almost daily online. We try to keep it light. We talk about my husband, we talk about his girlfriend, we talk about life in general. We talk alot. Sometimes our conversations enter territory they shouldn’t. Sometimes we can change the subject, and sometimes we can’t.

It is so bizarre to love someone I’ve never met, but yet, I feel like I have a connection to him. It’s bizarre to have feelings I didn’t even know were possible, or that I didn’t want. If I had even known such feelings were a possibility, I wouldn’t have started talking to him. But who could have known that me asking him if he was ok would lead to such things? I certainly didn’t. He didn’t either.

Accidentally falling in love with someone doesn’t change the fact that I fell in love with someone other than my husband. Judge me all you want, but that was never my intention. I didn’t flirt, and I certainly never lead him on. I just liked talking to him.

The funny thing about falling in love online is the fact that you really do fall for the person. I didn’t even really know what he looked like. Actually, if I had known what he looks like, I probably wouldn’t have talked to him. Talk about reverse discrimination, not talking to someone because they are too good looking. I knew the basics, he was younger than me, and he was black. But that doesn’t matter when you make friends.

Anyway, now I love a man I can never be with. I’m ok with that. We aren’t ever meant to be together. We are too much alike in some ways, and way too different in other ways. But, the fact is, I love him. So a part of me still wants to be with him. But mostly, I want to go back to the easy days of being friends. I don’t want to feel jealousy. (Ironically, I’m not jealous of his girlfriend, but of his ex girlfriend)

Sometimes being in love sucks.



I found this post in my drafts from three years ago. Things have changed, and yet, they haven’t. I still love J, but I think this time I can really say that I’m not in love anymore. Too many things have happened, and I have changed. I will always love him as a friend. But the wanting to be with him is gone.

I would like to be able to hang out with him as a friend, but I don’t know if that will ever be possible. One thing I have learned, is that anything is possible, even if it isn’t probable. We fight, but always seem to make up. I have no idea what you would label our relationship, but it’s ours.

Things have changed. I have changed. I no longer allow certain things to slide. If he decides to leave because of it, then so be it. I’m just trying to deal with things in whatever way I can.

Things have changed & I have changed

short story

First Date (fiction)

Elizabeth woke up gradually. First thing she became aware of, was how sore her body was. It ached in places she didn’t know existed. She then noticed there was someone sleeping beside her, butt pressed up against butt. Then she realized the dire need to urinate was what had awakened her.

She got out of bed, a little startled to notice she was completely naked. She never slept naked. She looked around, and spotted the door to the attached bathroom, and hurried inside.

She flipped the light on, and pulled the door closed. She took care of business, and stood up. She caught a look of herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, the curls standing out every way possible. She noticed the breasts that had lost the war on the gravity, the laugh lines around her eyes. She noticed the signs of her middle age.

But she noticed something different, an aura of sexuality. The memories came flooding back to her. Meeting Chris last night, the fun conversation at dinner, the drive to his house, the kiss that burned like the sun, the sex. Oh, my god….the sex. She blushed, remembering how he had teased and pleased her.

She had met Chris online, on an app that was supposed to be anonymous. She had vented about being stood up for a date, and he had private messaged her. He was intelligent, and funny. He made her laugh. He flirted with her, making her feel desirable. After being blown off, that was a balm to her wounded soul.

They didn’t exchange pictures right away, she didn’t want to know what he looked like. And she didn’t want him to see her. But after weeks of conversation, she gave in and sent him some of her. The silence after sending sent her in panic. She assumed he saw them, and left. She was disappointed, but resigned.

An hour later, he reappeared, and apologized. His dog had knocked over a glass, and broke it, and it had to be cleaned up. He complimented her pictures, said she was gorgeous. And replied with pictures of his own.

They hadn’t discussed age before, but it was glaringly obvious he was much younger than she was. She asked his age, he was 30 to her 45. Her heart sank. He was 15 years younger. Somehow, the age difference changed everything to her.

But it didn’t matter to him. The flirting increased. The chat became more sexual. The texting turned into phone calls. The calls became very sexual. She would lay on her bed, and please herself while talking to him.

Then he suggested meeting. She was hesitant, she didn’t want to ruin the enjoyment she had with him. But she was curious to meet him, he had caused a dramatic change to her life. She had gone from being so straight laced, to learning to enjoy her own body. She agreed to meet him.

She dressed in an aqua colored top that showed off her cleavage, it was amazing what a push up bra could accomplish. She was wearing a short, black skirt that showed off her legs, and a pair of short heels. Her long auburn curls fell loose down her back.

She felt slightly ridiculous. She half expected to get stood up again. She sat on the bench next to the entrance, waiting. He had wanted to pick her up, but she didn’t want him knowing where she lived. He was late. Her phone rang, it was him. She waited for the excuse. He said, “I’m driving, so can’t talk, but I’m on my way. Please don’t leave.” And hung up.

So, she sat there, feeling uncomfortable. Minutes passed. She played on her phone, and got engrossed in a conversation on Twitter. She forgot where she was. She heard someone clear their throat, and looked up. It was Chris.

He was tall, over 6 foot. He had light brown hair, and surprisingly green eyes. And he was  in his formal dress, military uniform. Her heart stopped. He was gorgeous. He had a smile on his face, and was holding a small bouquet of what appeared to be home grown roses with the stems wrapped in aluminum foil.

He held out his other hand to her, she slipped her hand in his, and stood up. She felt a faint shock, like an electrical charge jumped from his hand to hers. She just looked at their hands, not wanting to move.

She looked up his face again. He was easily a foot taller than she was. He looked at her, and  smiled. She couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on her face.

He held out the roses to her. She took them in her other hand, and held them up to her nose. Her curls fell forward against her cheek. He used his free hand to brush them back, and tuck them behind her ear. Then he touched her cheek, the lightest, most gentle touch.

Chris said, “I’m sorry that I’m late, my meeting with my bosses took longer than expected. I didn’t have time to change, but I wanted to make sure I got the roses for you. I didn’t have time for a visit to the florist.”

Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. “So, where did you get these? They smell heavenly.”

Chris said, “I grow them. Gardening is a good stress relief. I learned from my mom to wrap the stems with wet paper towels, and the aluminum foil to keep them fresh.”

Elizabeth realized her hand was still in his. He didn’t seem to eager to let it loose. She reluctantly pulled her hand out of his. “Don’t you think we should go inside?”

He agreed, and they went inside, and were seated at a booth in the corner. The restaurant wasn’t busy since it was past the dinner hour. So they were tucked away from everyone else.

Elizabeth felt suddenly shy. She could talk online, and on the phone with no problem, but in person, it wasn’t so easy. She looked at him, and he was looking at her. His eyes were a mossy, green color. He had a crooked smile with one dimple. She couldn’t help by smile at him. That smile made her feel at ease, and the conversation flowed.

He flirted with her, and she flirted back. She wasn’t sexually inexperienced, but she hadn’t had any recent experiences. He teased her. He made her laugh. She caught him starring at her cleavage, and she leaned forward to give him a better look.

When she realized what she was doing, she blushed, and sat back in the booth. Then she excused herself, and went to the restroom. She looked in the mirror, and almost didn’t recognize herself. It was her, but it was as if some flirty, sexy woman had taken over her body. She just laughed, readjusted her breasts in the push up bra, and walked back to the table. She didn’t even notice the males watching her as she walked past them. But Chris did.

When she got to the table, it had been mostly cleared off, and a tip was sitting on the table. She sat down, and looked at Chris. Was their night going to end there?

He excused himself to go to the restroom. She picked up the roses, and smelled them again. Each rose was different, and had it’s own scent. She wondered if he was doing a dine, and dash. Making the excuse to go the restroom, and leave. The server walked to the table, and asked if she’d like a refill, she said no. Then Elizabeth asked about the bill, the server said it had been paid already. Well, at least he didn’t ditch her with the bill.

Elizabeth wondered how long she should wait. It seemed like it was taking him a long time. But then he appeared, and looked angry. She asked him why.

He had been on the phone with his ex wife.She had somehow found out that he was on a date, and was trying to ruin it. He said he had told her to mind her own business, told her if she needed to contact him, she had to go through his attorney. Then he blocked her number.

Chris stood up, and held out his hand to her. She slipped her hand into his, and he helped her up. They walked to the door together, his hand at her waist. He made it obvious that this was a date. Elizabeth noticed the glances of the people they passed.

When they got outside, Elizabeth felt awkward. She didn’t know what to do. Chris leaned down and kissed her. It was more than a peck. The kiss was hinting at much more to come. When he stepped back, she looked into his eyes. She could see the desire in them. She knew their first date was not over yet.




Take a chance

Life is strange. Life is weird, unexpected, and bizarre. Life is frustrating. Life is sad. 2016 was a year filled with so many emotions. I’ve learned to let go. I’ve learned to hold on. I’ve learned that feelings can grow, and evolve.

I’ve learned that I can love more than I ever imagined. I’ve learned that people can mean so much more than I thought possible. I have learned that some things make no sense, that you just have to accept them, and keep living.




A different way of seeing things

I had an experience tonight that pointed out why it’s important to have friends in other race, age and economic groups to interact with. There is a story within a story, so be patient.

Some background here. I work midnight shift in a doughnut/coffee shop. A homeless guy came in at the beginning of my shift to get out of the rain/get warm. I had no problem with that. I did have a problem when he started bugging customers to buy him stuff. A young girl bought him a sandwich, an order of hash browns and a hot chocolate. A guy bought him a doughnut. I told the manager about it. The guy left, then came back in again. The manager gave him some doughnuts, and told him to leave.

Ok, my shift ends at 6am (supposedly). At 5:45, a cop comes in. He wants 2 doughnuts, but he said his card was already declined elsewhere, because someone got into his account. He tried it, but it was declined. At that point, I had a few dollars in my pocket from tips. I paid for his doughnuts. He didn’t expect it, or ask for it.

When I got home, I posted about the cop on Whisper. A nearby college student messaged me. She told me she was broke, and hungry. I told her to ask on Whisper. She asked me for food. I knew I was going to lunch with my husband to a local sub shop. I told her that if she could get there, I’d buy her a sub. She tells me that she’s a vegetarian. Oh, well.

She wanted me to go shopping for vegetarian food, pack it up, and send it to her. I offered her food, and she turned it down. I don’t have the money to be sending care packages. I just left the conversation then. I offered to help, but I’m not catering to someone I don’t know.

Okay… here’s the other part of the story. I was telling that story to J. I thought it was something different to talk about. I am a middle aged, middle class, white woman. J is 31, black, and is from the “hood” (his word, not mine) We don’t see things from the same point of view.

So, instead of thinking the college girl story was odd, he asked me why I bought a cop doughnuts. I said because his card was declined, and I wanted to be nice. Without knowing about the homeless guy, he asked me if I would have bought a homeless person something. I said, Maybe, but I don’t usually have cash in my pocket there.

He became fixated on me paying for a cop’s doughnuts, rather than the story I was telling about the picky college girl asking for food. Cops are people too. Most of them are good people, and some are assholes. I just wanted to do something nice for a person.

Because J is younger, and black, he sees cops as a threat. I can understand that, because of all the publicized events that have happened in recent history. I do not have any personal knowledge of it. He has told me before that he has had a talk with his teen aged nephew about what to do if he gets pulled over. I find it incredibly sad that such a thing is a necessity, but I know it is.

With my background, and experience, cops have been good people. They do hard work, in bad conditions, for not much money. With his background, he has learned that they aren’t always good, and are frequently the opposite. That because of his skin color, he is seen as a threat, and a target to law enforcement.

My whiteness protects me from some of the harsher realities of life. My middle to lower class lifestyle doesn’t draw attention to me. I don’t know what it’s like to live with a target on me. He has experienced the opposite.

In my mind, when I was telling him about the girl, I thought that was the interesting part of the story. I only mentioned the cop/doughnuts as background to why she was asking me for food. But he latched on to the cop in the story.

He told me that sometimes things like that is where our different backgrounds conflict. He’s right. In his mind, I was probably enabling a racist government agency. In my mind, I was being nice to a guy having a bad night, who just happened to work for the police.

So, I tell a story. He sees something in the story that was background information to me. He saw me buying the doughnuts for a police officer as stranger than some girl begging me for food, then turning it down because she’s a vegetarian.

We all see things from our own perspective. I was in a car accident once. I was t-boned from the passenger side. I saw the windshield glass dropping piece by piece, it looked like raindrops falling from tree branches after a storm has passed. I heard the Amy Grant song playing on the cassette player, even though the dash looked like an accordion. I smelled the overwhelming smell of Calvin Klein’s Obsession. That was my experience. Other people just saw a horrible accident.

I can’t know what he is thinking about things, unless he tells me. We have had several fights because our perceptions of things don’t match. He sees things differently than I do. He doesn’t have my age, and experience.

He helps shake me up at times. I need to see things from his point of view. And he needs to see mine. Yes, I have feelings for him. But I think one of the reasons I get upset if I think that he’s gone, is because I would be losing the one friend who opens my eyes to things. He shows me that there can be other ways to see things.

I’ve had friends in England and Wales who point out differences. I thought that saltine crackers were universal. I was surprised to learn that they aren’t. I didn’t know. I try to learn, but I will still see things from my own experiences. It’s just how we are.



I don’t get it

I don’t understand people. I don’t understand how they get enjoyment from lying to people who have never done them any harm.

One example happened just the other day. Some guy started talking to me on Whisper. He told me he was 27. He also sent a picture of a very fit, white guy.

A few hours later, I see a post where he says he’s 31, and looking for someone to cheat on his wife with. So I replied how funny it was that he aged 4 years in a couple of hours. A woman messaged me, and told me that he claimed he was 31, and had sent her pictures of a fit, black guy. When she asked to see his face, he blocked her.

So apparently, this particular guy is a catfish. He had tried to get me to send pictures of me, and I wouldn’t. I didn’t like the vibes I was getting from him. I especially didn’t like being called “babe”.

I posted before about asking my husband for an open marriage. I had one particular guy in mind for that. But…as soon as I asked my husband, this guy ghosted me. It seems it was just a game to him. He got me to want him, but he just wanted to make a fool out of me.

So, yeah, he got me. I was a fool for believing anything he told me. I hope he enjoyed himself. I’m just glad that I didn’t actually develop emotions for him. I just wanted to have sex with him.

Why do people lie? I have a difficult time lying. It just isn’t in my nature. Other people couldn’t tell the truth if it bit them on the nipple.

I just texted the guy who made me ask for the open marriage. I honestly don’t want him anymore. but I want to know why he did it. Was it to laugh at my expense? Was it just to waste his time while he was at work?

He probably won’t answer me. Cowards never own up to their actions. But I had to ask. I have a feeling it will just be one of those things I’ll always wonder about.

I’m mostly an honest person. If you ask me a question point blank, I will probably answer honestly. There is an 99% chance that it will be the complete honesty. So, I don’t understand liars. Why jerk me around?


I am fat

No, I am not putting myself down. I am describing myself. I’m a big woman, calling it plus sized, queen sized or me a BBW doesn’t change the fact.

I actually had someone get offended because I called myself fat. She was angry because I used the word. I have a mirror, I am well aware that I am a big person. What right did she have to get angry on my behalf?

It amuses me when someone throws the word “fat” at me like it’s an insult. It doesn’t hurt me, it’s just a word. It only shows how unintelligent they are. That’s the worst insult they could come up with?

I tell them that, yes, I am fat. And my fat ass gets more action than they do. They usually shut up after that. They can’t think of a come back.

What is even more annoying, is when people act like I am not allowed to be happy. That no one could possibly love me, or want me. I have been with my husband for 24 years. He has loved me completely the entire time. He still gets turned on by me. I get hit on/flirted with often. I’m actually surprised how many men enjoy bigger women.

I know that being overweight is not healthy. It would solve several of my health issues if I lost more weight. But being fat does not mean I’m miserable. It doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy life. It doesn’t mean that I can’t have sex either. I don’t do many things that thinner women can do, but it doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy what I have.

I have noticed something. The people that like to mock me for being bigger, are the ones who are usually miserable with themselves. They have to try to tear someone else down, to make themselves better. I will never understand that.

Yes, I am fat. I also have green eyes, and long hair. It is one part of my being. It does not define me. You want to know something else? I’m also sexy. Because sexy isn’t a size or shape, it’s an attitude. I enjoy sex, and people are drawn to that. And for some reason, that makes people angry.

I am what I am, no one said you had to like it. I live my life by my standards. My husband’s opinion of me is basically the only one I worry about. I am my own kind of beautiful. If someone doesn’t agree, they can keep it to themselves.