Part 16…….Vampires aren’t Dating Material, they will Kill you no matter How Much they say they Love you.

“You never thought you’d be alone, this far down the line.  And I know what’s been on your mind. You’re afraid it’s all been wasted time.” – The Eagles, Wasted Time

The seeds of animosity began to germinate and only got bigger as time went by, only I didn’t know exactly what it was, I just knew that something bothered me about him and his proclamation of “love” over the years.  I suppose I was still waiting for him to turn into Prince Charming as I made excuses for the asshole and continued to think he was the great love of my life, which of course wasn’t true.  But nonetheless I believed it then because I was still blinded by love for this man.  Okay so I was stupid but what have I been saying all along, love makes you stupid, but only voracious, emotional draining love does this to you.  I’m sure that healthy, sharing and emotional supportive love isn’t this way but I don’t know what that’s like, I haven’t had the opportunity to know find that out for myself, yet.  I’m only speaking from my experiences.  This is when one begins to realize that love is and should be a two way street.  Some relationships are at times lopsided but relationships like the one I had with Lestat the Emotional Vampire was all give on my part and all take on his.

I rarely got much in return because of the “I never promised you anything” mantra he held steadfast to.  I’m not denying I should have bolted, but I kept wondering why fate kept me there for this long.  I didn’t think I had done anything as bad in this life or any past life (if you believe in that) that warranted the emotional suffering I was going through.  So I will elaborate more on exactly what kind of suffering and emotional self-mutilation I put myself through. At the point when my ex-husband and I separated I suppose he was in a vengeful state of mind because the very next day I moved out of our mobile home in rural El Paso County, Fabens Texas to be exact, and moved back into my parent’s home, he had closed all of our joint bank accounts and left me without a dime.  We had both contributed to the household finances but the asshole decided he was going to make me suffer for the separation we had both been at fault for.  While he did that, I had written checks (remember those?) to pay the utility bills and for food at a local grocery store the weekend prior.

Well those checks bounced (because he closed all our joint accounts and opened new ones under his name) and months went by with those vendors sending notices to me at the address where he still lived.  So what did this mentally immature asshole do?  He threw them in the trash, which in turn meant that I didn’t respond to the hot check notices, which turned into a warrant for my arrest.  I of course was unaware at the time this was happening but it didn’t matter he was going to make me suffer any way he could.  This all happened during the time I had just accepted the job at UTEP, and I was on my way to go and turn in some paperwork at human resources that morning.  I had, at the time a 1994 (manual transmission) two door white Ford Escort hatchback with electric seat belts.  That day for some reason the driver’s side seat belt didn’t go all the way back, and I didn’t think much of it so I left my parents’ house to make the twenty-eight mile drive to UTEP.   From San Eli to Clint the drive is about two and half miles, and that day I passed the Silver Streak/Exxon Mobile gas station, going slower than the speed limit.

As I passed I saw a Clint Deputy police officer, and he was talking to someone outside in the parking lot, smoking a cigarette.  The minute I drove by, the fucker threw his cigarette on the ground and proceeded to get in his car and at that very moment I thought “this motherfucker is going to stop me because my goddamned seat belt!” And sure enough he did, now let me describe what this officer was like.  A tall, skinny/lanky, blonde haired, green eyed twenty something, who was hell bent on doing what he could to make whatever quota he needed to make by way of traffic stops.  If anyone has seen The Andy Griffin show, and you’ve seen Barney Fife, this is what this fucker looked like only younger and dumber (if that’s even possible).  I looked at the red and blue lights flashing in my rear-view mirror and slowly pulled over almost in front of Clint’s teeny tiny police headquarters.  As I put my car in park and reached for the glove compartment for my insurance, license and registration he put his hand on his gun holster and yelled out “Ma’am please keep your hands where I can see them.”  I actually felt a bit confused because did I look like I carried a gun? (Okay yes I might have but I wasn’t).  And I didn’t move, what did this idiot think I was going to do, literally right in front of the fucking police department?

He comes to my driver’s side window and then he say’s “Your insurance and license please ma’am.” I’m sitting there thinking to myself, isn’t that what I was fucking doing?  In any case he then repeated the request and I rolled my eyes and handed him my information.  He then asked what every cop asks “Do you know why I pulled you over?”  I answered with “was it my seatbelt?” Then he lost all credibility and said “Yeah that’s right, wow your smart” and I knew it wasn’t said with sarcasm but sheer surprise at the fact that I knew why I had been pulled over.  I told him that I could explain that and asked if I could get out of my car.

He said “Um, well I guess” and again I refrained from rolling my eyes at Barney and slowly opened the door to my car.  I proceeded to show him and explain what had happened with my electric seat belt, and that I was on my way to get it fixed (of course I lied, this trigger happy, deliverance banjo playing mofo was going to give me a ticket).  He then said to me that I needed to make sure I got it fixed soon and I felt a sigh of relief that went through my entire body and he said I could get back into my car.  He then said he’d be right back because he was going to run my information.  I of course didn’t worry as I knew I didn’t have any outstanding tickets, so I waited patiently in my car.  Lestat called me and I had told him what was going on and he said to call him when I left Barney’s traffic stop.  As I hung up with Lestat, Barney made his way back to my car and he said to me that I had an outstanding warrant for a hot check and I was like what the fuck!?!?!

I didn’t immediately put together the pieces of the puzzle together but it didn’t take me long.  So he said he had to “take me in” and I thought take me in where exactly?  He gave me back my insurance information and asked that I step out of my car as he reached for his handcuffs.  Can you believe that? This motherfucker was going to handcuff me for a hot check warrant!  He asked if I knew anyone that could come and pick up my car so that it wouldn’t be impounded and I said yes.  He said I could call them and then I looked at him and said “It’s going to be hard to call when I have my hands in cuffs.”  He had another cigarette in his mouth and exclaimed “oh, whoops sorry” and I thought this fucking two horse town is in deep shit if they have a guy like this one patrolling the three streets.

I called my dad and he and my mom showed up to take my car back home, while Barney Fife’s twin decided to take me into the police station, which we were parked in front of.  As he walked me in like a goddamned common criminal in cuffs and all, his Chief was there.  He sat me down by the door and he walked into the Chiefs office and began to tell him why I was being arrested.  He also began rambling on about some serial killer that was walking his way down the railroad tracks at that time, Angel Rezendez known as the Railroad Killer and I heard this idiot ask his Chief, “So Chief I mean, this guy is like, you know fair game right?  I can like, draw my weapon at him if I see him?”  I almost laughed at the sound of this Barney Fife motherfucker thinking he could take down a serial killer when he couldn’t tighten the handcuffs I had on enough so that I couldn’t slip my hands out of them to scratch my nose.

His Chief said in an annoyed tone of voice “Yes Paul, he’s fair game but don’t go doing something stupid” which indicated to me that he was known for his stupidity, and I had finally found out his name, Paul.  Then I heard his Chief tell him that he could take me to the Eastside Regional Command Station on Pebble Hills and that he didn’t have to make the trip all the way downtown to the county jail.  Then Paul responded by telling him that he would make the trip all the way to the jail because he wanted to process me the right way.  Again I could hear a loud sigh from his Chief and he told him to do what he wanted but I was being arrested on a hot check warrant not murder.  Not that I hadn’t thought about it, I could have slipped out of my cuffs right there in the waiting area and walked out, no one was watching me while Paul explained his wannabe heroics to his Chief if the Railroad Killer got in his way.  I knew this asshole had bigger aspirations than being small town law enforcement he wanted to be a “real” cop.

As he drove me downtown to the county jail (which was in the middle of downtown El Paso, and entire 19 and a half miles from Clint) all the while I kept slipping my hands out of the badly tighten cuffs to make myself a bit more comfortable.  I mean as comfortable as someone being arrested and being driven to jail can possibly get.  During the drive is when I made the connections as to why I was being arrested and thought to myself that my asshole of an ex-husband was doing what he could to get back at me for whatever reason.  We drove into the parking lot in front of the jail where law enforcement vehicles are, he walked me into the grey, alien like building with small windows.  I had seen this building many times, anyone can see it driving by downtown on I-10 I just never realized I’d actually get to see it from the inside.  Not that I ever wanted to but here I was.  Paul walked me across the street and into the front processing area and as he did, almost all of the jailers, sheriff’s deputies and EPPD that were around began to mock him, almost as if they did this on a regular basis.

One of the jailers shouted out “Hey it’s Paul!  Have you found the Railroad Killer yet Paul?” and proceeded to laugh out loud.  That’s when my embarrassment grew, not only was I being arrested because of my asshole ex-husband but, I was being arrested by someone who was the most inept law enforcement officer in the entire county of El Paso.  It was clear he had mentioned (to anyone that would listen) about wanting to catch the Railroad killer.  I stood there as they took my mug shot (can you believe I have a fucking mug shot? And not even for a serious crime like murder or stealing) and the jailer took my shoelaces and belt away from me.  What did they think I was going to hang myself over a hot check?  I was to say the least frustrated and annoyed at being arrested by Roscoe P. Coltrane but because I overheard an officer with the EPPD tell him he could have taken me to the Pebble Hills Regional Command Center where I would have gotten out sooner.  He said “yeah I could’ve but I wanted to do it right” and the officer shook his head and said underneath his breath “yeah, okay.”  The officer glanced my way and the look on his face was of sympathy and pity, almost as if to say “Hey lady I’m real sorry you’re being arrested by this douche bag.”

I was processed and put into a cell with other women, there were nine of us in a cell that was about fifteen by ten feet.  By the time I was booked in, it was around lunch time and a jailer was pushing a lunch cart and as she got to our cell she handed us each a small carton of milk, an orange and a “bologna” sandwich.  This sandwich consisted of stale hamburger buns and a thick cut piece of bologna (omg I was in prison eating prison food!).  I waited for them to call my name so I could get my phone call.  Finally after about forty-five minutes I heard my last name called and was told I could make two phone calls, and of course like an idiot I chose to call Lestat first.  Lucky for me he answered on the first try and he asked me what happened and where I was at and I told him.  I asked if he could come and get me, because I had money to pay for some of the bail and he responded with “I can’t leave the job site right now, we’re pouring concrete” (sound familiar ya’ll?) I couldn’t believe this, here I was again in desperate need of his help, it was just a fucking ride back home, and he couldn’t leave the job site! It seemed this motherfucker was perpetually pouring concrete, this slab must be as big as the goddamned Hoover Dam!   Stay tuned for part 17……….

                                                                                                                                  

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Christmases are Different When Your An Adult

“Sons of Bitches, Bumpasses!” – The Old Man, A Christmas Story

As the Holiday’s fast approach and everyone is running around lost in the consumerism of what Christmas has become along with the hustle and bustle of trying to get last minute decorating, baking, wrapping and so on finalized.  It has occurred to me that Christmas, has lost its meaning in more ways than one.  The fervor of shopping begins on literally the day after Thanksgiving and we are off and running, lining up outside malls and stores to fight among others for the most of electronics, clothes, jewelry in order to pay the least.  And in all of this, where is Christ?  Christmas is to celebrate the birth of Christ and the meaning behind his birth has been pushed back (way back) behind buying the latest and greatest of anything.  I am certainly not a religious person, I am a spiritual one which means I don’t necessarily believe that God only hears those that congregate but he hears all of those that have a spiritual connection with a higher power.

Don’t get me wrong I’m not here to preach to anyone, but I have come to realize that Christmas is different when you’re an adult.  These are my beliefs and I am far from imposing them on those that don’t agree with them.  But I know that Christmas was once a holy day in celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, the one who died for our sins, and because of that, his birthday should not be about ourselves but the spirit of being civil to others no matter how much we disagree with them.  So now my rant as an adult will go on……stay with me here.

First of all YOU are the one now that is spending hundreds if not thousands of dollars on the very latest gadgets or the most up to date games etc.  Then you have to make it spectacular by wrapping it and presenting it to those who the gift will go to. Also we as adults are in charge of the decorating, baking, cooking and entertaining of family and friends and frankly…..I’m tired.  As a child all we had to do was wake up on Christmas morning and undo all that was under the tree and if we got what we asked for we were happy.  If not we would sulk a bit until well until we didn’t sulk.

I’m exhausted emotionally, mentally and financially so this Christmas is going to be less than spectacular and thank God my boys understand.  But for me Christmas has always been a struggle because I have a mother that suffers from depression, is narcissistic and I’m pretty sure she has Munchausen’s as well.  Her narcissistic tendencies have always ruined the Holiday’s, any holiday for me.  Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years have always been about her, what she wanted, what she didn’t get, how she felt and how no one in this world understood her.  She brought in some Christmases with crying, ranting and raving followed by alcohol induced tantrums followed by prozac and sleeping for hours, which to be honest was a nice reprieve.  One year my younger brother and I were awoken by shouting and banging around in the living room.  We walked into find my mother pointing a .22 caliber rifle at my father’s forehead.  In spite of her children’s begging and pleading she didn’t flinch.  That is the day I learned to detest Christmas and I was only eleven years old.  Of course, now she is seventy-five years old and fraile but her demanding tendencies are still there.  Only now after years of counseling I have learned not to give into her tantrums and demands.   I am forced to endure holidays with her and my father, and to be honest I seem like a bad daughter, I don’t want to spend what should be happy times with my sons, with my parents.  In any case, as a child one only had to be around adults until we were told to go out and play or go to sleep.

As an adult we are the gatekeepers of everything, our children (no matter how old) our elderly parents (no matter how mean or disagreeable) and of our homes (no matter how chaotic).  I want to spend one Christmas, just one without having to constantly tell my mother to pipe down because she comments on everyone’s gift after we open them.  Last year we opened gifts and she kept say’s “I want one like that” or “why didn’t you get me that?” or “I want to go on a cruise with you” because my friend mentioned that we should take a holiday cruise one year instead of staying home, we were facetiming.  And she added “I can get someone to take care of your dad” and then I stopped her and said “Your not being invited mom, this isn’t about you. We’re talking about me and my friend.  Why would I want to take a cruise with the person I’m trying to get away from?”  Granted I shouldn’t have said it that way but by this point in the day I was tired of her comments and attitude.

She didn’t talk to me for three weeks, those were three of the most blissful weeks I can remember.  In any case, when you’re a child Christmas is magical and full of whimsey and surprise.  You can’t wait for that day to come and to be able to show everyone what you got as a gift.  Your starry eyed and naïve, your innocent nature hasn’t yet been corrupt by the “adultness” of responsibilities, financial hardships, relationship failures and jaded by family issues.  Yes, indeed Christmases are very different when you’re an adult.  I’m sure that there are many out there who have great holidays with their families, children, neighbors and church families and I’m not trying to take away from that very well-deserved happiness.  I’m speaking strictly for myself.

I’m sure if my childhood hadn’t been mired by the dysfunctional family life I had my view of the entire Holiday season would be different.  But because I am very aware of where I came from and I have tried very hard to break the cycle when it came to my boys.  I tried to make it as normal and drama free as possible.  Of course that only lasts until my mother arrives and then the crazy train to hell stops by to pick us all up for a quick trip to crazy town.   But they know what she’s like and we, for the most part try to dismiss her behavior because my counselor tells me not to acknowledge her tantrums. So yes, Christmas is different when you’re an adult but let me leave you with a very adult thought, in the spirit of the Holidays, act like a kid if for only a moment, jump into the pile of wrapping paper, or the snow (if your lucky enough to have snow), eat as many cookies as you want, watch all the holiday specials and don’t change the channel.  Stay in your pajamas all damned day long, answer the door in them, walk outside and play in your yard in them (but please don’t go to the store in them that’s just unacceptable).  Hug everyone and I do mean everyone that walks in your door, show everyone what you got for Christmas with childish enthusiasm!  Sleep under the tree with (or without if your single or your kids are too grown up) those you love.  Cuddle with your fur babies and put weird sweaters on them to keep them warm and go and talk to the neighbor you hate.  Yes I do have a neighbor I don’t get along with, she has a life size Elf on a Shelf in her front window, and her four grown kids don’t have any children! I mean what the fuck!?!?! Hence the quote from a Christmas Story, lol.

I want to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a safe and prosperous New Year.

Part 14…….Walking through Hellfire………..the Huntress was Born….Artemis the Goddess of Hunters and Wildfires.

“I’ve been waiting for the King of Hearts and still I get the Joker every time” – Sherrie Austin, Lucky In Love

This very real revelation about our time apart seemed to indicate that he didn’t really know how to process this information.  He assumed (narcissistically of course) that I’d sit around and pine away for his mistreatment of me and dismissal of my emotions, and long for the days when I’d wait around for hours for him to make time to be with me.  Kyle was perfect for me and our relationship might have gone further if he hadn’t been relocated to another Army base.  I felt cheated to because the one guy that I found (totally by accident) was the one that got away.  I didn’t use my relationship with him for vengeance (okay I did), only to tell Lestat the truth and to brag a little bit since he was so good at doing that until I realized he was making up a lot of the exploits he claimed to have.

Lestat stayed very quiet and after about fifteen minutes of silence I turned to him and asked if he was alright and he finally spoke and said “Are you telling me the truth about this Kyle guy?”  I said to him “why would I have any reason to make this up?’ That’s when I took out my phone and showed him a picture me and Kyle I took on the back balcony of his Laurel Canyon home with a beautiful backdrop view behind his house which was covered in freshly fallen snow (it rarely snows in El Paso but that December it was like it was meant to be and it was beautiful).   The picture was of me and Kyle, wrapped in a blanket because we had decided to drink our morning coffee sitting out on the balcony of his bedroom.  We’re both smiling and that’s when I noticed that I looked truly happy.  Lestat put on his reading glasses and took the phone from my hand and studied the picture, he stared at it for quite a while and then turned to me and said “You’re not wearing anything underneath the blanket.”

I took the phone and looked at the picture and realized that all we had on was a blanket.  I remembered that we didn’t have anything on underneath.  I explained that I had stayed the night because it had snowed heavily the night before and he didn’t want me driving down the mountain so he insisted I stay.  And stay I did, and I had one of the most romantic nights I’ve ever had, everything was perfect that night and when we woke up the next morning with the canyon covered in newly fallen snow,  he had coffee ready and asked if I’d like to go out and sit on the balcony and enjoy the new snowfall.  I, of course said yes hence the picture we had taken, and that’s when the emotional wooden stake went straight through him.  He then seemed angry and said to me “Then why the fuck didn’t you stay with him?!  I mean it looks like your happy there what happened?”  At that exact moment I felt my fangs grow out a bit more and they felt good. I turned and said to him “You happened that’s what and besides he was relocated to Ft. Campbell Kentucky and I couldn’t move at the time, if I could have believe me I would have left.”  Lestat’s beautiful honey colored eyes turned what seemed like a dark, clear gray and he said “Oh really? You should go because it looks like you would like being married to a white guy!”  I stayed calm, felt my newly full-grown fangs with my tongue and took another sip of my coffee, turned to him and told him “Ugh, fucking grow up will you Lestat, it’s tiring having the same conversation over and over with you.  I’m getting really tired that you think its okay for you to go and fuck around all you want.  But when I find a great guy to date it’s jealousfest on your part and frankly it’s getting old. Besides you never promised me anything remember and you said you’d never fight for me, right?” That was it, that’s when it happened, karma had begun its trek and was gaining steam.  His face changed with the emotional recognition of what I had just said to him.  I had finally found the perfect time to throw everything he had been hammering home in my mind and used it against him.  No it’s not right but it’s called just desserts for everything he ever did to me, and I not once not called him out on it seems to be a good and much deserved reaction to his selfish and narcissistic personality.

Adding salt to the wound (hey, this is about me not him so stop thinking I’m cruel and uncaring alright!) I casually asked him where he was that night, that very night I had stayed with Kyle. He just stared at me (which by the way I hate, at least think of something to say don’t just sit there and stare at me like a deer in the headlights for fucks sake).  His silence told me he knew exactly what I was talking about, I finally answered my own question and I said “That night before the picture was taken, where the fuck were you?  I’ll tell you where you were, you were at the Sun Bowl game with your ugly, fat horse faced wife and your two kids! So don’t you DARE act like I did something wrong because I’m not the one that’s married and I don’t have to answer to you or anyone else and justify what I do and with whom! And how do I know you were there?  Because you’re fucking family posts everything to social media.  Seriously if anyone wanted to burglarize your house they could because your stupid family tells everyone everywhere you guys are at, at every waking moment of the fucking day! That’s how I knew where you were you hypocritical bastard!”

He turned to look at me and the anger was glazing over his now gray eyes and my fangs were growing sharper as the cloud of confrontation in his mind grew.  He got up off the couch and put his cup of coffee on the table, got the keys to his truck and left.  I sat there watching t.v, starting at the scene in Casino, where Robert De Nero’s henchmen are kicking the crap out of James Wood’s character in the parking lot of the diner.  I took another sip of my coffee and smiled.  I felt my fangs had come out in full strength and I imagined myself looking like Kate Beckinsale’s character in Underworld.  Okay I know this is ludacris but we all have these moments, you know we do.  Those movie scene moments that we all imagine ourselves in where we do or say something totally spectacular at the very moment we mean to say them and feel ten feet tall.  With it came an underlying sense of self-determination and I didn’t reach for my phone to call Lestat.  I sat there watching the movie and ten minutes later he called me, and I ignored it then another two minutes later he called again and again and I ignored all four calls.  After the fifth call I answered and as soon as I did he yelled at me asking why I hadn’t answered the first five calls, I sighed and promptly hung up on him without saying a word.

He called back and I again I answered and this time he was quiet and said “Sorry” and I didn’t say anything, I just sat there sipping my coffee.  He then said to me “It just became very real that I could lose you to someone else.  That by the time my wife is ready to divorce my ass you might not be around.”  For a split second I thought, what an arrogant motherfucker really, he actually thinks I’ll be around for when he or his ugly wife decides it’s time for a divorce. Believing I’ll be around waiting with open arms, talk about delusional.  I responded with “well that’s a chance you’re going to have to take because your right, I may not be around and if Kyle had stayed in El Paso I wouldn’t be here with you, he might have been the one.  I’m just doing what you’ve done all these years to me, I’m keeping you around as a backup, you know just in case.”  The silence on the phone was deafening, all I could hear in the background was the traffic around his truck whooshing by as his turn signal clicked away like a stopwatch for the conversation we “weren’t” having…….Stay tuned for part 15

The Christmas Tag

HotShot Headlines tagged me in the Christmas tag 

It’s Christmas Tag everyone!  This is my first time doing this so please excuse me if I don’t know what I’m doing, but here we go.  I want to thank Simon from Planet Simon for tagging me, THANKS SIMON! Also I’ve included the original link to Laura Beth’s blog above as well as the Bright Bookcase who began this Blosgmas Tag.

The Rules

You must thank the person who nominated you.

Link back to the original post (the one on this blog) and use the graphic provided.

Answer the questions given.

Nominate at least 3 people. (or more if your feeling like a nice person  )

Give the nominees 10 questions to answer (or use the ones previously given)

Questions

How do you celebrate Christmas? With Alcohol 

Do you have a favorite Christmas carol or hymn? Grandma got Run Over By A Reindeer

Do you like snow? Yes, but I haven’t seen snow in about ten years since I live in far West Texas

What is your favorite contemporary Christmas song? I don’t really have one

What does your Christmas dinner table look like? It has alcohol, lots and lots of alcohol, preferably Peppermint/mocha or chocolate alcohol

What is your favorite Christmas memory? Getting my Huffy Sweet Thunder dirt bike, the only draw back was that it was yellow

If you could take a paid two-week break for Christmas this year, what would you do, and why? I’d go to Delft in the Netherlands, it looks like a great place to be in during the holidays.

Do you have a favorite Christmas book / piece of literature? Little Women

Is there a Christmas movie that you don’t like? All of them, except Scrooged with Bill Murray that one’s my favorite, oh and White Christmas that’s a classic.

Do you have a favorite Christmas special? Nope, unless it has alcohol I don’t bother

My Nominees are….

Bryce Warden

Tom Being Tom

romcomdojo

mydangblog

Part 13………Jealousy is the Emotional Vampire’s Weakness.

“She has been through hell, so believe me when I say, fear her when she looks into the fire and smiles” – Unknown

Soon after Lestat began his financial “training” with me, which were nothing but long winded lectures about how I mismanaged my money and how bad my credit score was, I mean literally he’d lecture me about that shit.  I began to think to myself that I need to get my shit together financially so that when we get married, I’ll be financially stable and my credit score would be good enough that it wouldn’t hurt him adversely.  Now, I realize that someone’s financial credit score is important and it may cause some discomfort for some, but it was NOT the center of the universe in our relationship.  Or at least I thought it wasn’t, then after yet another argument about how he thought I mismanaged my money he made a comment that sent me into a fireball rage.  He said to me “How can you actually expect me to marry someone whose credit score is this bad?  I mean that is the kiss of death for someone like me!”  I thought someone like him?  Who the fuck did this asshole think he was Alan Greenspan?  Being Miyagied was maybe more cruel in my eyes because when he would still talk about getting married he would reference how he was so good at taking care of his credit score and how his wife didn’t and it affected him negatively in his business life.  That’s when I told him maybe he should teach her that lesson and not me.

But after our fight about my credit score I yelled at him “Then why don’t you go and fuck your credit score instead because I’m outta here mofo.”  I stormed out of his office that day hell bent on proving him wrong.  And yes, my credit score was shit because of my carelessness and my ex-husband (he and his new girlfriend/wife did everything in their power to fuck up my life while we were getting a divorce, but that’s an entire different story altogether) I own how and why my credit was shit and will for the rest of my life.  It took me a long time to get financially healthy and responsible and I will NEVER go through that again.  Even though the method I chose to get my finances together may have been the kiss of death for some people, it helped me more than anyone will ever know.  I was forced to file for Chapter 13 bankruptcy, not one of the proudest moments in my life but I learned a very hard, cold lesson because of it.  This happened during the time I was with that half-wit Waldo and when I reconciled with Lestat he was not pleased that I filed for bankruptcy which sparked another argument.  But I fought that battle by telling him that I did what I had to do, and no one had gotten me into this mess but myself and I would get myself out.  And I also mentioned that if he mentioned my finances and their negative state again, I would slap the taste out of his mouth.

I felt determined to prove myself worthy of his impending (albeit delusional) marriage proposal.  But his lessons came at a price, for him I mean, for me it was an epiphany.  The aversion that was beginning to build would one day come to a head.  But being Miyagied was probably the best thing that could have happened to me to be honest. I mean the best thing for me, the worst thing for Lestat because I needed him less and less as time went by, not that he helped me financially.  Maybe he unwittingly did this because he didn’t want me to be dependent on anyone to do everything for me (not that I would) like that useless wife of his.  Maybe he did this so that I would be prepared for when I would eventually leave, not that he thought I was going to.

Now I know he believed I would stay his mistress forever and he would have been happy with that because he’s a selfish self-centered vampire and add to that narcissistically confident as well.   In the movies when a couple decides to break it off, it’s always because one of the parties does so.  It’s not necessarily mutual, like in the Notebook (yes another movie reference) it was always Allie that walked away from Noah for whatever reason.  This movie too perpetuated that “love lasts forever” myth, and I’m not saying it doesn’t exist for some people.  It just doesn’t for about 85% of people, with divorce rates hitting an all-time high it’s hard to imagine that kind of love being real.

Of course it was definitely true for Lestat and Fiona because for the better part of their thirty year marriage, I was with him for twenty of those (imagine that?).  He had a mistress for twenty years and yes his idiot wife had no clue and like I mentioned before it was probably that she didn’t care enough about him to sense that something was going on behind her back.  Or, she really is that stupid I mean I saw and heard it for myself so we’ll go with that.  But he refused to leave even after both of his kids left high school and went off to college.  Our arguments about this became increasingly cruel and the emotional stabs became deeper and deeper.  He said to me one day during a fight we were having about this “So what?  When we come back from dropping my daughter off you want me to turn around and tell my wife, oh by the way I’m divorcing you and I’m moving out?”

I looked at him and said “uh yeah pretty much!  I mean you’ve made me wait this long, why I am I the only one paying the price for this?  Make her suffer some why not?”  Well that fight ended with me walking out and leaving yet again.  I also mentioned that if he remembered he told me that he had moved back to “raise” their kids together, not work on their broken marriage because that is why they had separated in the first place.  I guess that idea dissipated during the course of the getting back for the sake of the kids and turned into working on their marriage.  Somewhere during all of this I was the one that got lost in the shuffle of lives and emotions and became his dirty little secret.  Which I didn’t like but I endured because I was convinced that I was in love with him (yes still….).

The Vampire’s Weakness, JEALOUSY 

At the tail end of my twenty year affair with Lestat I had evolved into someone he hardly recognized, his words not mine.  Because he actually wanted me to stay exactly like who I was when we first met.  First of all, I was twenty-nine years old and naïve and I listened to everything he said, EVERYTHING.   His manipulation was a lot stronger when I was younger but as I grew older, wiser and more educated his emotional grip became weaker and weaker.  The ideas he once dictated as law were now met with rebuttals and inquiries about why he believed these ideas to be true.  But that was evident by the “Don’t buy a Car without the Person you’re buying it for” input conversation.

We rarely saw eye to eye on anything anymore, because we had agreed on everything for the most part prior to this stage in our relationship.  When we first met I was enamored by his very presence.  I saw him, well like a devastatingly handsome vampire, black cape and all, with his killer dimples and vampiric smile, rough hands and his worldly knowledge.  That image began to fade as I got older and he got older as well and more tiresome in his ideas and philosophies.  I knew that my evolution was not only eminent but it had happened when I or he wasn’t looking.  I had gone from a girl in her late twenties to an educated woman with knowledge and experience and able to think for myself in every aspect of my life.  I learned lessons and at first most of the time failing, falling, skinning my knees then getting back up again and making it to the end of the line of each struggle.  He, on the other hand had stayed exactly where he was when we first met.  He was no longer thirty-six, pulling off wearing tight Wranglers, button-downs and cowboy boots with his beautifully wavy muddy brown hair.  Now he was fifty-four, still wearing Wranglers only now his man muffin-top hung over the top of his pants with his short-sleeve button downs and the same old cowboy boots.  Oh and somehow, somewhere he lost his great ass and charming grip over me.

In his case personal evolution was being fought back by this vampire who refused to change and/or adapt with the world around him and still dressed like he did in high school.  Any attempt to try and update his ideas, thinking and fashion sense were stifled by his refusal as well as his mantra “this is who I am and if you don’t like it, too bad.”  He remained stuck in 1999 which was when we first met, and although the world was vastly different, his vampiric nature remained the same.  He had begun going through his midlife crisis when he was forty-eight and bought himself a brand new Black Chevy Corvette, this thing was beautiful and it drove like a dream.  High gloss black paint, red and black leather interior with heated seats and Bluetooth capabilities.  I mean if a vampire was going to have a car this was it.  When he brought it by my house I was in awe of this wonderful piece of American made muscle (did I mention that this car cost about half of what he could have given me for a house?  Or that his monthly payment was about as much as a mortgage payment?)

A couple of weeks later I was driving to work and passed a white Corvette about the same make and model as Lestat’s, and inside was a middle aged man with slicked back salt and pepper hair balding on top and a pony tail down the back, Ray Ban sunglasses and he turned to me and smiled.  I was not impressed, and that’s when I realized that the only men who drive these cars are the only ones that can afford them, middle aged, mid-life crisis, balding, aging, fat men who believe the car they’re in is going to make them look younger and more attractive to younger women.  My assessment might be off but just to be fair, I saw a charcoal gray Corvette on the road two weeks after and the woman that was driving it was also older, bleach blonde hair wearing sunglasses and the wrinkles in her face and her batwing arms were flapping in the wind (she had a sun roof).  I’ve made my point, one rarely sees a young attractive man or woman in a nice expensive sports car.  And if you do, it probably belongs to their parents.

Lestat became increasingly insecure and would constantly ask me if I still loved him, which at the time I did.  I realized that we were reversing roles and although I hadn’t become as cruel as he was to me, I was becoming indifferent to him, his needs and wants.  This is when he began to tell me he’d slept with different women of all ages during many of the times we were apart.  Why he thought he needed to tell me instead of keeping it to himself became evident as time went on.  At first I believed him and the jealousy I thought I had buried deep down in the depths of indifference would come bubbling up again.  His attempts at trying to make me jealous worked in the beginning that is, but then a wise friend of mine, whom we’ll call Carmen said to me, “Are you serious, you actually think he can go out and pick up a young, beautiful twenty-five year old to go and fuck her? He’s only telling you that because he has to. The only way that is even possible is if he was able to drive his Corvette into the bar and sit there until a younger woman noticed him and even then it would be a gold-digging money hungry younger woman who thinks they can get anything they want out of men like him.  And you know he’s not about to become anyone’s fucking sugar daddy when he can’t even give you money for food or help you with rent. Snap out of it, he’s lying to you so he can make himself feel and look good.”

Carmen rarely had moments of clarity but when she did they were awesome! And she was right, it might have happened but not as often as he said it did and that is when I saw him for the sad, middle aged emotional vampire that he really was.  Nevertheless I allowed him to keep telling me this, don’t ask me why.  I just did but I didn’t feel the overbearing jealousy or anger when he did and that is what I think bothered him the most.  Once when we got back together he began to tell me yet another story about his sexual exploits and I let him finish.  We were at my house one Saturday morning watching a movie and I didn’t say anything or react, then he made the mistake of asking me what I had done during our time apart.  And I turned to him while taking a sip of my coffee and said “Yeah, pretty much the same” and then he looked at me and said “The same?  What do you mean?”  And I knew I had him, I had baited him and he took it and I had him dangling on my emotional deep sea fishing rod.

I said, I met someone too and yes I slept with him (well because we dated for almost three months) and as much as he tried NOT to ask he couldn’t help himself.  He asked me to elaborate (something I didn’t do when he told me about this fictional sexual encounters while we were apart).  I just sat there and calmly told him about this man (actually a Major in the Army, and a doctor no less) that I had met at work and he had asked me out.  Not only did he ask me out he (we’ll call him Kyle) invited me over to his house because he was going to cook me dinner.  He was stunned silent and whether or not he believed me (I suspect he did) didn’t matter.  I had him, and the curiosity he was emanating my way was fucking killing him, I could feel it.  He asked me how I had met him I told him, he was an audiologist at William Beaumont Army Medical Center and he went he gave a lecture at the university where I worked and we began talking and one thing lead to another and he asked me out.

Then Lestat the middle aged vampire asked me more about him so I decided to take the emotional wooden stake and pull a Van Helsing and stick it right through his cold dark heart.  I told him that Kyle was a Major in the Army and he was a physician, he was divorced, had two kids and lived on Sharondale Drive on the mountains off of Stanton on the west side, those are million dollar houses we’re talking about (I thought I’d throw that in there).  He looked down at his cup of coffee as if trying to find a safety net in the dark creamy brew swirling in his cup.  He stayed quiet, then as I had the emotional wooden stake three quarters of the way in he asked me how old he was.  Now before I go on I need to make one thing clear, I have never been attracted to younger men.  I have always been a sucker for older, more refined men. But that doesn’t mean I actually found any, also I have always found myself attracted to white guys as well.  Kyle, he was not only younger than me, he was an accomplished officer in the Army with a prestigious medical career.  So as I sat there watching the movie Casino for the fourteenth hundred time, without looking over at him I said “Kyle? Oh, he’s seven years younger than I am.”  And the emotional wooden stake began to sink through to his bleeding heart.  Stay tuned for part 14….…

LinkedIn Private Mode Stalking

Let’s get serious for a minute here, in social media there should be safeguards for those that use it.  But I prefer to think of LinkedIn as a professional portal to connect to like minded professionals NOT as a different type of “social” media, although it can be “sociable” in a professional manner.  This comes about because I might be getting stalked by Waldo.  Anyone who’s read my blog and the dating misadventures I’ve had know who this person is.  This is only an assumption, but my point being that I have a LinkedIn account and it tells me someone is viewing my profile in “Private Mode.”  What I want to know is why does LinkedIn have a private mode since this isn’t technically a “social” media page?  I get this “One LinkedIn Member viewed your Profile in Private Mode” notification and this is infuriating!  This isn’t Facebook, Instagram or Snapchat, it’s a professional page that should stay professional.

No one should post selfies of themselves at their desk trying on a new lipstick (yes it has happened) or sexy poses that will absolutely make you look completely unprofessional not to mention ridiculous.  Your profile picture should remain professional and so should your content.  I get email notifications that I have appeared in searches which is actually a good thing if I’m being scouted for a potentially higher paying job.  But when I click on it and see that someone has viewed my profile in “private mode” it makes me think to myself, what the HELL does this person have to hide unless it’s someone I detest then, yes you should hide because I will tell you to stop stalking me!

This is why I suspect that it’s Waldo, that boorish (and boring) pain in the ass that has asked a couple of former co-workers that still work at the other university with him, about me.  I deserve better protection from LinkedIn because it’s the account I actually use.  I don’t have a Facebook, Instagram, Twitter or Snapchat account for several reasons, but the biggest reason is being stalked by stupid people that make even stupider (spell check says that’s a word) comments about you, your life or your interests.  The world is negative enough as it is, I don’t need people living their negative lives vicariously through my social media.  LinkedIn is the only “socializing” I do for professional purposes and then I get this notification every week that someone who doesn’t want me to know who they are or why they are viewing my professional profile in private mode.

I believe that LinkedIn should remove this feature from their page, if its work related then you shouldn’t have to hide for any reason.  But I do have to say that I like that they give their users the ability to block another user from being able to view their profile.  Because sometimes you need that type of protection.  But then again that is what is prompting people like Waldo to go into Private Mode on my ass because I’ve blocked him and several others from my connections to keep them out of my work life.   If Waldo knew how I really felt about him he’d break down and cry in the fetal position in his basement office.  I think he’d be in shock to find exactly how much I can’t stand him, like run you over in the parking lot type of hate.  I think this would go very, very bad for him, more so than it would for me I’m just sayin’.  This is the Huntress915 over and out!

Part 11…….The Vampire Returnith……AGAIN

“Be careful what you do to a good woman, because you will have to deal with the bitch you create” – Unknown

Remember when Lestat said if I took him back he was going to change?  Yeah, that never happened, but then again looking back now I should have known it wouldn’t because he got what he wanted, he got me back and got to stay married.  So why should he live up to what he had said?  The thing is I never made him, he also constantly told me that he never promised me anything, and he sure as hell lived up to that, the not promising me anything I mean.  What did happen was that I kept evolving into a more headstrong independent woman, who was beginning to need him or should I say want him less and less.  But I wasn’t ready to leave him just yet, no I had to put myself through more heartache and vampirically emotional bloodletting by Lestat the married vampire.  He kept draining my emotions and his strength grew with every puncture of my self-esteem and self-confidence, it’s what a vampire does, they drain you little by little trying to turn you, or kill you.  I mean if you let them kill you that is.

There is no justifying behavior like Lestat’s because he had gotten his way for as long as I can remember, and before I met him that’s for sure.  When we think of being in love we think it’s like in the movies.  We find “the” one and then we begin a relationship, we “fall” in love and then one of two things happens, they fall in love as well or we fall in love alone.  When you fall in love alone it’s the most devastating type of love.  Because the one’s we love don’t and will not love us back no matter how hard we try or what we do to try and convince them of how much we love them.  We continue to think love is what Hollywood wants us to think is it, or how a song can express just how much “love” is good and eventually we all experience this.  But love isn’t like the movies or what we hear on the radio.  Everyone and I do mean EVERYONE wants to be that movie or song to the person there in love with.  Just like I wanted to be Meg Ryan in “You’ve Got Mail” to Lestat’s Tom Hanks or to be “the” song to him.  Like a beautiful song by the group Shenandoah called “I Want to Be Loved Like That.”  In my mind it is (maybe was) the epitome of what I wanted Lestat to feel about me, because I sure as hell felt this about him.  The first two verses of that song go….

Natalie Wood gave her heart to James Dean

High school rebel and a beauty queen

Standing together in an angry world

One boy fighting for one girl

I want to be loved like that

I want to be loved like that

A promise, you can’t take back

If you’re gonna love me

I want to be loved like that

Of course I’ve never been loved like that, and even though as I mentioned before I did love Lestat like that, he always told me he didn’t know how to express himself to me the way I did to him.  But of course I know that’s a lie because he can, he just won’t and maybe it’s because he has never loved me “like that.”   Which would make me question why he’d always, and I do mean ALWAYS come looking for me after every single breakup.  I always walked away and he always came back.  The longest relationship rehab went on for almost a year, can you believe that?  I was away from him for ten entire months, I ignored him passing by on my way to work.  I had blocked him from my phone but because he had cell phones for his construction company he’d use those at times to send me texts.  I walked away all the time and he always came back.  I have yet to figure this out if he said he loved me but yet tortured me to no end, and I’d leave and he would almost always beg to let him back into my life.  I think that everyone deserves to be loved that way.  A love so strong that it can push both of you through anything because love is what kept you from going insane and gave you the strength to hold on, not just for yourself but for each other.  The closest I’ve come to that kind of feeling (besides Lestat) was when a new bakery opened up near my house. It’s called Nothing Bundt Cakes and I fell in love with their white chocolate raspberry Bundt, true story.

As a result of the day to day routine in my dysfunctional relationship with Lestat I grew to get use to certain things about him.  For instance when he had to be home by a certain time, or he couldn’t see me on certain days, and for a while I tolerated this routine.  Okay I wasn’t okay with it, it was frustrating and annoying as hell but again, I believed that Lestat the Vampire would turn into Prince Charming, that guy I had been waiting for all my life.  I didn’t voice my discontent, I mean I didn’t voice it very often.  Alright that’s a lie I told him toward the tail end of our relationship that it was pissing me off that he wasn’t making up his mind.  I know that you’re wondering how the hell he was still married, after I had mentioned that when I met him he was separated and getting a divorce, right?

So let me elaborate, when I met him he was separated and in the process of getting a divorce and if you remember his wife was pregnant with their second child, a child they planned on having so their son wouldn’t grow up alone.  This bothers me, I mean I know that it was a conscience decision to have another child, and that it was done so that their son would have a sibling.  But think about it, when this girl grows up and she may or may not know that she was planned which is okay, I suppose.  But I know it would bother me to know that I was planned for the sole reason of making sure that my brother had a sibling and wouldn’t grow up an only child.  It’s disturbing to know that your existence was planned as a companion for your brother.  It’s like she’ll be a FrankenSister or something like that (not to mention she looks like Gossamer from the Looney Tunes Cartoons).   Okay it’s probably just me but I suppose it made sense to them at the time.

Their intention (or at least that’s what he) was for them to agree to have another child for the sake of their son and divorce because they were unhappy together.  Again this is intel I got from him, you know Lestat the Vampire.  But then it’s not like he’s the best source of reliable information, I learned that the hard way.  So when he explained his situation I accepted it because he did tell me (many times) that he wasn’t happy and that they had mutually agreed to do what they had planned.  So what happened along the way you ask?  Life took a huge steaming dump on my plans that’s what happened.  After almost a year and a half of dating Lestat (that’s how long we were together prior to his backtracking) he asked me out to lunch.  During our lunch date he was unusually quiet which is not like him at all, then he took my hand and said to me “I need to tell you something, and I don’t know how I’m going to do it” I thought to myself oh my God he has a terminal illness.  Yes that’s what I thought because he was so serious and straight-faced I had no idea of the emotional bomb he was about to drop on me.

I put my hand on his and looked at him asking if he was alright, and tightened my grip on his and then he looked up at me and said “I’m moving back home, I’m going back to live with Fiona because I want to be a part of my kids’ lives and that’s the only way it’s going to happen.”  I couldn’t move, I was frozen in place with my hand on his, I could see that his face was beginning to flinch and my grip was getting tighter and tighter and I realized I was digging my nails into the top of his hand, he finally pulled away and I had drawn a small amount of blood from one of my nails that punctured the top of his wrist.  Funny, I drew blood from the vampire and vampires don’t like that, they hate it when you turn the tables on them.  He looked at me and asked “are you alright?” I stared out of the window where we were sitting, I suddenly realized that the noise around me had stopped.  I had gone deaf, I heard nothing but the ringing in my ears and the pounding of heart, or should I say the breaking of my heart.  I heard myself swallow hard and turned to look at him.

He asked again if I was alright and I turned to him and yelled “does it fucking look like I’m alright?  You asshole, how could you do this to me, you said you were getting a divorce and I never once question why it was taking so fucking long.  And now you tell me you’re going back to your wife, and you do it in public no less you asshole chicken-shit!!!!!”  He asked me to keep my voice down and I said would not, I told him that if he wanted to keep me from making a scene he should have told me in private.  But I think it was his best defense because I am, after all Latina and my first reaction was to take a hard right to his face and then go out into the parking lot and take a baseball bat to the windshield of his truck and an ice pick to each of his tires.  That’s what I should have done (I might have as I did have a baseball bat in the trunk of my car…..and an ice pick, don’t judge) but what I did was get up and walk out of the restaurant.  I walked towards the middle of the parking lot realizing that I didn’t have my car with me because Lestat had picked me up at work.  I felt what seemed to be rivers of tears falling from my eyes and then I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I screamed as loud as I could, it was the only release that I had at that moment, my screams and crying were uncontrollable.  I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned around and it was Lestat.  He told me to get into his truck and I screamed at him that I’d rather walk the five miles back to my office rather than get into a vehicle with a fucking liar.  I began to walk down the street, not really knowing where I was going with tears streaming down my face as I dug through my purse for my cell phone.  I was thinking of who I could call for a ride, I called my friend April the bartender.  She didn’t hesitate the minute she heard me crying she only asked what part of town I was at and she gave me a destination near to where I was to wait for her.  I waited for what seemed hours but in reality it was only fifteen minutes before she got to where I was at.

As I got into her car she asked me to tell her what happened, and I proceeded to tell her what had transpired during lunch.  “That asshole! That fucking asshole!” she screamed and drove straight to Robert’s office running every red light she came across.  By the time we got there his truck was already in the parking lot.  She looked at me and then popped the trunk on her 1996 Honda Civic.  She put it in park and got out, I heard her screaming his name as she was riffling through her trunk.  I had no idea what she was doing back there and then low and behold I saw her with the baseball bat in her hands and instead of stopping her, I let her go on her rampage of bestfriendedness (spell check says that’s not a word, I think it should be so therefore it is, BESTFRIENDEDNESS!!) and sat back in her car and let her go after his truck.  She began with his side mirror and then his doors, then the windshield and by this time his brother came running out and then yelled at her. All I heard was mumble, mumble “your crazy bitch!” did I mention April is a white chick?

I couldn’t really hear what they were saying to each other but then Lestat came out of his office and since he knew who she was he knew what she was doing and why.  Oddly enough he didn’t act angry or called the cops, which I found weird because, did he anticipate this might happen?  She said something to him (I could see her mouth every obscenity his way as she held onto that wooden baseball bat in her Hello Kitty pajama bottoms and Nike running shoes, her hair tied into a messy bun on top of her head).  He seemed to ignore her as he walked over to me and opened the passenger side door to her car and knelt down and said “I’m sorry, I love you really I do” and I turned around to him and didn’t say anything. I just sat there as if every part of my being was being pummeled by every single emotion at the news he had given me over lunch.  Everything from the past hour was a blur, nothing made sense and my head was swimming in a cloud of confusion and heartbreak.  That night I didn’t sleep, probably because he kept calling me and I didn’t answer.  I had resolved that night to not see him ever again because he had decided to go back to his wife that he hadn’t yet divorced.  But during this year and a half of waiting for him to “finalize” his divorce I didn’t push or ask too much about it because I didn’t want to seem, well pushy or needy or a bitch.

Yes I know that you think it was stupid of me and it was but there was an end game here, a return on investment if you will, well when I believed he was actually going to get a divorce.  After his imaginary divorce was complete he and I would begin to build our lives together and that is was I was looking forward to, I had pictured the end of the rainbow with him, for him to be my Prince Charming.   But that night all of that went up in smoke, the ashes from what I thought was left of my relationship with him were smoldering underneath me, slowly burning there, silent but painfully.  After what seemed like hours of darkness both physical and emotional I had to get up and go to work, with my face swollen from crying and no sleep I looked like hammered shit.  But I soldiered on and got ready and headed out to work resolving to pick up the pieces of the shattered life I had known for over almost two years.  That day I kept getting call after call from him on my cell and at work, and I not once answered (I was very proud at my resolve).

I stayed strong for about three weeks after, even though the sting of rejection was still fresh like an open gaping wound that wouldn’t heal, but I had decided to dull the pain with work, coffee and nicotine.  This was 2002, I worked for a fire alarm company and I was alone most of the day when the all the installation technicians would leave for their scheduled calls.  Which was a much needed reprieve from putting on a smile and going through the motions of my day for the sake of my job.  But the minute they left I fell apart, I didn’t cry out loud by I sure as hell had a hard time keeping the tears in, as I sat there staring out of my office plate glass window wiping the tears away with tattered tissues that seemed to pile into my trash can like the snow caps of Mt. Everest.  Three weeks eventually passed and each day the hurt got worse but my resolve was getting stronger.  And then it happened, the motherfucker decided to show up at my office, and I was NOT prepared to deal with him or his emotional ambush. He knew that for most of the day I was alone, and just like Lucy Westenra in Bram Stokers Dracula, I was a goner.

He knew what the fuck he was doing since I hadn’t answered his phone calls for three weeks (this was before blocking a number was available on your cell phone) he had no other option but to physically and emotionally ambush me at work.  I saw his truck drive up and thought to myself this motherfucker has some balls.  But my heart was telling me, oh my God he’s here and he wants to talk to you because he loves you!  I wish I could’ve shut my heart up because the rest of me always winds up listing to it, well, all except my brain because that’s the one that is logical and says to me “don’t listen to this lying asshole, no matter how charming he seems or what he tells you he’s just trying to get his way.”  And she was right, my brain I mean, that motherfucker came over only to tell me he missed me and that he still loved me in spite of the fact that he had moved back in with Fiona.

I should have stayed strong but the truth is my heart convinced the rest of me, including my logical brain whom I’ll call Sharleen (why not? She’s my brain after all) to give into him….again.  It was hard to resist his allure and bullshit covered in charm and Halston cologne.  The day he showed up at my office I was at probably what I would consider one of the weakest days of my life, and it showed.  Because my office had an extremely large plate glass window and the parking for our company was literally right in front, anyone parked in front could see inward, it was like shooting fish in a barrel.  He saw me in this state, which was, let’s face it obvious.  In true vampiric fashion he sat in white Ford F-150 flossing and sharpened his fangs, sprayed on his Halston Z-14, popped the collar on his black cape and walked towards the entrance to my office in that slow motion walk that always happens in the movies.  The wind slowly blowing through his cape revealing the red satin underside, gently whisking that dark muddy river hair of his, strutting his 6’1 frame towards the door, his erotic dimpled smile showing his fangs shinning in the sunlight as he was about to take another bite out of my heart, emotions and life.

Okay it sounds stupid and yes I watch a lot of movies but this is how I saw it happen, the entire vampire, slow motion walking, cape flapping, smiling shiny fang thing! (Just a quick note, emotional vampires can and are able to be out in the sunlight, it’s in the darkness that they have issues with).  In reality he was wearing Wrangler jeans, his cowboy boots and a dark maroon colored button down long sleeve shirt.  He looked like John Travolta in Urban Cowboy, when he first shaved his beard and we catch the first glimpse of that handsome face of his in his black Stetson.

I sat there wearing my jeans, boots and company polo shirt, hair tied on top of my head in a messy pony tail with little to no make-up.  My defenses were down and I couldn’t go into battle knowing I was about to be taken down by Lestat the Emotional Vampire hunting for sport, because I had no strength to fight him off whatsoever. And true to form, he walked into my office and with every step he took towards me I took another back.  His facial expression changed as if he noticed that I didn’t trust him anymore, which of course was right.  He asked me if there was any one else in the office and I stood there in silence and he said to me “It’s me, its okay, are you alone?”  As he was talking my eyes slowly glanced over through the big plate glass window to see the damage that my friend April had done to his new truck.  I looked at the dents on the doors and he had replaced the windshield but the side mirror on the passenger side was being held together with black electrical tape.  I could hear him talking to me but it sounded muffled because it felt as if I had gone deaf once again.

Then all at once I snapped out of it and managed to say “what the fuck do you want?”  He stepped back and the lingering scent of his cologne wafted through my office and my heart.  He said he was there because I gave him no choice since I hadn’t answered any of his phone calls.  I mentioned that was for a reason, I mean what the fuck did he think I was doing?  Really, ugh!

Then I told him that I didn’t want to talk that I wanted him to leave (this was Sharleen talking and she was awesome!) That is until he said those three magic words…….I…..love…. you and then everything went to shit.  My heart took over and managed to muffle Sharleen and I felt as if I couldn’t breathe so I sat down in my chair.  He walked over to me and took both my hands to bring me up towards him and then he hugged me and whispered in my ear “I’m so sorry, I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you.  I can’t live without you, please don’t send me away.”

As he held me in his arms, my eyes closed tight listening to these words coming out of his vampiric mouth, smelling his cologne and feeling the tightening squeeze of his arms wrapped around me (like a motherfucking anaconda right before it eats its prey).  I pushed him away and asked him how the fuck could he ask me NOT to send him away if he was still married AND had moved back in with his ugly wife Fiona?  He said he did it for his kids, and that he is living there with her and the kids but he loved me.  Of course in retrospect this was complete and utter bullshit because that’s what vampires do, they charm you, they hypnotize you and then BAM they suck your will to live or make rational decisions.

Needless to say I took him back even though he had moved back in with his ugly, fat horse faced wife and I told myself that I could deal with this.  I told myself that I could be a mistress to the man I believed I loved in order to be with him and that’s when he made that statement “when they are grown and out of high school we can be together.” Inside I was like, what the fuck? High school? Their daughter is all of a year old (at the time) and I have to wait until she graduates from high school, this assholes crazy! Of course this was an empty promise because after all he had spent the rest of our relationship telling me he hadn’t promised me anything OR that he wouldn’t fight for me.

Now, once again I need to stress that those who will feel the need to judge me based on the decisions I made to stay with him and be his mistress, this did NOT start out this way.  I sort of fell into it, like a ginormous puddle of quicksand I didn’t see while running through a vine ridden jungle of emotions.  And that Charming dude and his white horse whom we’ll call Carlos (I had to throw in one Hispanic name right?) could have shown up to save me but they didn’t.  But the pious and self-righteous will always judge, so to those I say, judge away I’m sure someone’s out there judging you even if you don’t think it’s happening to you, it is, you’re just blind to it or actually believe you haven’t done ANYTHING wrong in your entire life.  Go ahead, keep thinking that but me, Sharleen and Carlos the white horse know better.  In any case this was why and how I found myself dating a married man for twenty years of my life.  Needless to say as I got older and wiser I realized that the window of opportunity was getting smaller for me to find a “real” boyfriend to date and have a potentially healthy relationship.  Stay tuned for part 12…..