Sobriety

Usually, people learn from their mistakes, right? But I guess we keep testing our limits, seeing how far we can push ourselves, physically and emotionally. The results of my actions last night pushed me so emotionally far I could have been swimming in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
I had ten Rum and Cokes last night, made by me. Cheap Bacardi knock-off and Diet Pepsi. I had six before I cut myself off and started my drunk phone calls. Talked to Lars for over an hour and had eight glasses of water. Finally Dudley called and said Armando was dropping him off soon. I had some drinks, and those drinks turned into three.
The rest of the night is pretty much a blur, but basically, I had an emotional breakdown and one last drink. I think I've realized, that whenever I drink, every thought that lies in my subconscious comes roaring out of my tiger mouth. The only topics of conversation I remember were talking about Christina, my jealousy, and how it might have been a mistake that Dudley and I broke up. Just a night gone wrong. A night that I just wanted to sit and drink and maybe play some Nintendo turned into emtional turmoil.
The only good thing to result from last night...I drank enough water to where I didn't have a hangover this morning. But I feel like I still woke up a little buzzed. And I looked at my messy apartment. I got angry last night and became violent - I broke a picture frame that had a picture of Dudley and I. There were Diet Pepsi cans everywhere. I found a stain on the carpet. I felt so ashamed this morning. I couldn't even look at Dudley. I don't know why I keep doing this to myself. Things between Dudley and I will never be the same.
I think I just need to separate myself from him, for awhile anyway. No more calling or text messaging him. Keep our relationship strictly platonic - NO SEX. Yeah, we had sex again this morning.
I also need to make a decision. I hate the way I behave when I drink. I'm not sure if it's the particular kind of alcohol I'm consuming, but lately, I become angry and over-emotional. The past two nights I drank because I was stressed out. Stressed because of work and my pending relationship status with Dudley and training for the half marathon. I had to numb the pain but I overdid it. I need to look for healthier options than drinking. That's the first step, is recognizing I have the problem. My next step - I dumped all the bottles of alcohol I had in the freezer down the drain. I left Dudley's bottle of whiskey, and he still has all his cans of Guinness, but I don't touch either of those.
I'd like to elaborate more but I think I just want to think about what I did last night. I didn't like myself at all. I'm a horrible person for it and feel so ashamed.
Next week when Lars is in town, I will go out with everyone, but I won't drink. I'll even be the DD. I'll just sip Diet Coke. I don't even want to drink beer. I have no desire whatsoever to go through what I put myself through last night ever again. I want to be happy. I want to feel forgiveness and acceptance of others. I want to free myself from my emotional scars. Time to grab the Mederma because hopefully those scars will slowly disappear...forever. And I can learn to love myself and others again.
Maybe I'll have a Dairy Queen Blizzard tonight. Maybe :) After I finish cleaning up my apartment.

Strike that, reverse it....

Okay, I do remember a time where I was as stressed as I was today. The only other thing that brings much such stress is ... money.
Last December, I decided to give my car some new parts. The breaks were squealing so bad, so I got them replaced. Just Brakes offered a deal for less than $100. I'm no car aficionado, so I thought this was a pretty good deal. When they examined my car, my breaks were riding on it's last breath. All four of them. Plus they had to replace a few other things, I don't remember the whole diagnosis, I've tried to block it from my memory. But I do remember the bill adding up to over $700. I HATE spending that much money. I whined about it over happy hour with Lars at Ruby Tuesdays and he dropped me back off at Just Brakes to get my car. But the mechanics couldn't put my hood down all the way, and said something about how I needed to get the striker on my car repaired (a striker is the thing on the bottom of your car's front hood that clasps shut when you slam the hood down). So I had to drive home real slow and prevent the hood from flying up and me getting into a car accident.
It was dark by then and I was nearly in tears when I explained my day to my roommate. I'd heard how people use alcohol to inhibit their stress, so that's just what I did - I took a shot of vodka. And I took it back hard. It didn't help but it was a psychosomatic effect and helped take my mind off of my car temporarily. Then I messed around with the hood on my car and got it to clasp shut with the striker in place. Thank God.
Later that month I had to get new shocks and struts and two new tires.
But now, I think I'm going to have a drink. A Rum and Coke, if you will. Except I have white rum and Diet Pepsi. So that'll have to do. Maybe it'll continue to numb the pain for the night.

Ever had one of "those" kinds of days?

I just did today.
I can't pinpoint a time in my life where I've felt more stress, anxiety, and overwhelmed in one day.
Sometimes 8 hours in a workday is not enough. I'm the kind of worker bee that works efficiently and quickly - I'm good at my job. I'm well-trained and pass that knowledge and ethic onto my other worker bees. I influence others around me to care about their job and have fun at work. However, today, I could have put in a twelve hour day and still not get it all done.
I got to train with management again, and was more comfortable with doing the morning manifest paperwork. I just needed a "babysitter" nearby in case I had any questions and wanted to confirm that what I was doing was the correct way to do it. I managed to handle it all and finish it in two hours, just like last time. However, I still had to take my break (thank God), write two orders, and do two hours of register. I had three hours to do this.
Before I took my break, I had to stick around to finish the paperwork, when I was just so antsy that it showed in my face and my attitude. I was at a point where I had enough of the training. You can't throw it all on me in one session because then I'll become super frustrated. I already am super frustrated because I have to be fully trained within the next 13 days. Less than two weeks. September 3rd. I don't know, folks.
After my break, I did one hour of register and prayed that my next hour of register I wouldn't have to be on it. I only had to be on it for about ten minutes, but I felt pressed for time. I got my first order written and punched, and had time to write and punch my second order. I even had enough time to sit down and talk with one of my training mentors. While I waited for him, I took time to sit down and calm down. My breathing had become irregular at that point and my chest felt tight. I started to shake a bit. Finally, my mentor came in. He had been gone for a week and wanted to catch up on my training, and we reviewed what else I would be going over for the rest of the week, and what I would be touching upon next week.
I was finally done with work for the day, and clocked out. I decided to hang out in the breakroom for a bit and try to relax and calm down. I still had to go to the gym and workout, but my heart wasn't in it. I was feeling so stressed that maybe a day off wouldn't hurt me too much. I left about twenty minutes later and decided to head to the bookstore to get some new reading material. I've read "I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell" about three times now and need something refreshing. I also had to see Dudley, so I called him to meet me there.
I still couldn't stop shaking or get my breathing rate normalized. He helped me pick out two new books but seemed genuinely concerned about my health at that moment. I walked him back to work when I started to dig through my pocket for my keys - THEY WEREN'T THERE. I panicked and nearly lost it. I got to my car and saw my keys sitting right there on the driver's seat. I walked back up to Dudley by the door to work and let some tears spill. This much stress on a 22 year old is not healthy whatsoever.
I went inside and grabbed a phonebook to look for a locksmith. Gary offered me his AAA card so I can get my keys retrieved for free instead of paying a $100 fine. I thought I'd call my Dad first and see if he had the spare keys to my car. He came by work with two different sets (because my mother has a Mustang too) and the first one we tried WORKED. Before he came by I prayed to God that my Dad would have the spare set. Thank you, God, so much.
I decided to not work out at all today. Usually exercise helps relieve stress, but since I'm stressed about keeping up on my training for the half marathon, today's workout may have not helped my situation much.
I hope I'll be okay tomorrow. I'm not sure if I should go out with Amy, like I suggested to her last week. Maybe I'll send her a text. Tomorrow, I just want to try and take it easy at work, go to the gym next door and run and strength train for a bit, come home, and maybe, just maybe, Dudley will still want to come over after he gets off work. I'll even make him a simple late-night diner-style dinner. That sounds kinda fun- cheeseburger or patty-melt and french fries. It's possible.
Speaking of Dudley......I sent him an email last night. It was a heartfelt, deep letter detailing my fears and expressing my true love for him. His response? "I MISS YOU ALREADY. Love Dudley." Boys will be boys, but the response was sorta cute to say the least.
I still don't know how the next month is going to go...

bicycle...bicycle...flat tire

The rain stopped and I let Dudley borrow my car so he could meet up with his dad for lunch. I figured if anything happened when I rode my bicycle today, such as getting too tired or getting a flat tire, I could call him and he'd pick me up with my bike.
I got my gear - my Camelbak, my iPod, and my sunglasses. I looked professional, I was just missing the helmet. Oh well. It was a steady route downhill. I got to ride downtown. Unfortunately there were no bike lanes on the street so I had to use the sidewalk and yell at the pedestrians that my presence was right on their heels. But I had good tunes, it was overcast so it wasn't hot, and I got my cross-training workout. It took me 50 minutes to ride a little over 8 miles. I wanted to do it in 90 minutes or less.
I thought near the end of my trip to work my backside seemed bouncier than usual. So when I finally pulled up to the gym next door to my work, I saw that my back tire was completely flat. Great. Good thing I let Dudley take my car! I called him and asked him to come pick me up. I thought I'd hang out at my work's breakroom until then, but all my managers were having a meeting. Perfect timing.
Dudley came and got me, and I dropped him off back at his place. He still kissed me goodbye. :)
I talked to my brother's girlfriend, Coreen, about the bike. She was excited that I'm getting into bike riding. She also told me I just needed the back tire tube to be replaced, and because I just bought the bike, it should go on Target's bill. So I'll call them or go there Friday with my bike problem.

Non-bike revelation that should have been put in my last entry: Dudley said he would be going out to California next month to visit his friends before he left for boot camp in October. I assumed it was just for a few days but it may turn into a month. I read a message on his Myspace that I shouldn't have read. But he was still logged in on my computer so it's not entirely my fault. He was writing a message to his friend Christina (and I saw that he had typed "I MISS YOU SO MUCH," which made me sad) and he told her that he was planning on going out there from September 15-October 15. Usually what Dudley says, he doesn't usually do, so it may turn out he won't go for the entire month. But it wouldn't surprise me if he did. He said that boot camp is a couple of months long, and then he has tech training. Both could last together as long as four months or so. He'll be back for Christmas. He may be stationed at Luke AFB. He said if it all went like that, then we could be together, but if it didn't work out that way, he doesn't want me to wait for him, especially if I have the opportunity to share my life with someone else. He wants me to be happy. And even though I didn't say it, I feel the same for him. If he finds someone that makes him happy, I want him to pursue it. I just don't want it to be Christina!
I do believe him when he says he'll never forget me, and that he'll think of me everyday. I'm just not ready for him to leave yet.

Life never ceases to amaze me

Dudley came over last night. I drove to work to pick him up and chatted with Linda, Phil, and Armando for a little before we left. I had every intention of picking up a bottle of rum or vodka and drinking the night away. I also had the secret intention of having sex with Dudley. But the night went towards a different direction, and had I gone through with my sexual endeavor, it might have ruined the whole night.
We had a few mixed drinks and I learned a few things I never thought Dudley would confess. It definitely had to be some of the rum talking, but after two or three big mixed drinks, I learned this: His relationship with me was his second longest, and his longest was 9 months. His last girlfriend screwed him over so he still felt burned by it. He admitted that we were both doing better without each other. I said maybe it was because the pressure was off.
On that note, I do feel happier. I feel happier that I'm not spying on his Myspace, and that the pressure is off because there isn't a relationship to worry about. I feel happier because I'm not trapped in heartache. I have lost the right to scold him for hurting me. He can flirt all he wants and it doesn't need to affect me anymore because we don't have an intimate relationship. I'm also happy that he still wants to be friends with me. If I had lost him altogether, I would not be happier. So him hanging out with me last night made me happy.
I didn't want the night to be emotional. I just wanted to share stories and humor and watch mindless late-night television shows. But Dudley opened up to me and finally told me everything I knew he was feeling that I wanted to hear. I was the first one he told when he found out what day he was leaving for the Air Force boot camp in Texas. He told me that even though he'll be gone, he'll still think of me everyday. He told me he was scared of where he was going and what he was going to do and what was going to happen to him. He didn't want me to see, but I refused to let go of his hand, because I wanted to feel the connection: he cried. He didn't want me to see it, but I could feel it because I refused to let go of holding him.
The time that he's known me and spent with me, he's seen a side of me that nobody else sees. And by nobody else, I mean people at work. I have different personalities for each environment I'm in. I adapt to the environment itself (for example I'm at a basketball game, I wear a home team jersey and drink a beer and yell at the players, simple). I've made such an impact on his life. And it goes deeper than that and I wish I could have vocally recorded our three hour long conversation and share the important pieces here. But whether I remember it word for word, the thoughts and actions are permanently tattooed in my mind and on my heart.
I let myself surrender to my feelings last night. As bad as it could have been, it felt okay. I let him kiss me, and I kissed him back. It was passionate. I hadn't felt that passion between us since the innocent lust we had in the beginning of our relationship. Of course, he stayed over.
I woke up to rain, which was kind of nice and it set the tone for the morning, even if it meant I couldn't ride my bike to work. Dudley woke up too, and got romantically frisky. It felt very nice and made me wonder why it didn't feel as great when we were together. Maybe because I felt annoyed by his constant mood of feeling horny? Whatever the reason, I wish I could change. But I cannot change the past. I just let him do what he wanted because it felt too nice to stop. It felt right.
We made love and it was good. Most would look down on my actions and tell me that I lead him on. No. This was right. It's one of those situations where acting upon an action that falls in a gray area is right. White meant we shouldn't have done it, black meant we should have done it; both areas having proper benefits and consequences. Our actions fell directly in the middle of the gray area. We may not be together but we still do love each other. And I trust that he isn't messing around with another woman. He respects me and loves me enough to not taint my friendship.
"Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone?" Very true.

And one last little life lesson to learn: I thought I learned this 12 years ago but I guess not. Don't eat a bag of gummi bears/worms/what-have-you in the span of 12 hours unless you really enjoy the effects laxatives have on the body. This also pertains to eating sugar-free chocolate as well.

Running...on empty?

So I've begun week 5 of my half-marathon training. And I feel like I haven't made much progress. But when I put the facts together, I have. I just put a lot on myself to succeed and succeed well at everything I do.
Why do I not feel like I haven't made any progress? I'm not able to run too long distances at one time without stopping to walk. Inside a gym on a treadmill, I can do at least 4-6 miles running at a 6.0 or 6.5 mile-per-hour pace before I stop to walk. Outside, I try to do at least half of my route before I stop to walk. So far, it's been 2-2.5 miles before I stop to walk, usually running at the same pace as I would on the treadmill.
But when I really think about it, I HAVE made progress. I've stuck by my training routine, which is working out 6 days a week, four of those include running. I started "running" when I was a freshman in high school 8 years ago. I would only do about 1.2 miles around my neighborhood about once a week, if that. Then I progressed to five miles a week my junior year. I only remember running 3 miles without stopping once. Then I entered myself in my first 5K - the Race For The Cure in October 2003. For the next couple of years I would run off and on but wouldn't make it a good habit. In 2004 I was asked to be a lifeguard on a college internship so I spent that summer swimming and training for that. Then in 2005, I tried the Race For The Cure again. A few weeks later, I completed my first 10K. A co-worker of mine invited me to do a Turkey Trot that Thanksgiving. She and I bonded over running, and she sort of became my inspiration - that girl was in shape and so energetic. She gave me some running brochures, and I decided on a whim and to make it a goal to run a half marathon this year. The months passed and I kept telling myself to get my butt into the gym, but the half-marathon still seemed a good distance in time away. Finally, it was three months away. If I wanted to prevent injury and approach this half marathon in a healthy way, I had to train properly. So for the past 5-6 weeks, I've put my butt on that treadmill (not literally) and put myself through all this. Don't get me wrong - I love to run. But it's almost like I hate it at the same time, because it's tough and exhausting. But when I've accomplished my running goal for the day, I feel so ful-filled. It's a goal worth working for.
Unfortunately, I haven't lost weight. But I think, fortunately, I have lost fat weight. Fat weighs less than muscles, and I've gained muscle, so that's why I haven't lost weight. I've read so many times that it's not what the scale reads, but how you look and feel about yourself. I'm feeling accomplished.
I hate to cut this short, but I have to wash my mint julep face mask off before the power goes out. There's a huge thunderstorm rolling in and I have to get all my night duties done before the power goes out, if it does.
Maybe I'll be able to elaborate more on my "running" thoughts later...

Big Bang...BIG BANG!!! (part 2)

I've always believed that God had a plan for me. Whenever something bad happens, his reasoning is to teach me a lesson. Whenever something good happens, I've cashed in some of my karma points. Yesterday, God taught me a lesson. Today, I cashed in karma points for a priceless gift: an answer to a year-long question I had.
My best friend, Morgan, and I, haven't been on great terms lately. Morgan is my best friend that I met while doing a Disney internship as a lifeguard at a waterpark two years ago. We clicked like a lightswitch and had an amazing friendship and time together in Florida. All good things must come to an end, so when our internship was over, I went back home to Arizona and she stayed in Florida to work and be with her boyfriend she met there. A year later, I flew out to visit for a week, but my visit was ill-timed. A week before my visit, one of her closest friends died in a drunk driving accident, and she flew home to Rochester, New York, for the weekend. I made an inappropriate comment about my visit in correlation with her flying to New York that caused major tension in our friendship bind. Since that point, nothing had been the same.
As of the last four months or so, I've had trouble contacting Morgan. I'd call her every few days or every other week or so and just reach her voicemail. I think what finally got her to call me back was my urgent message proclaiming that I needed to talk to her and share something important with her concerning my relationship. She was my best friend and if there was any time I needed her, this was a time to cash in my best friend talk voucher.
Unfortunately, she called me back while I was driving to a showing of my co-workers photos downtown. But she promised to call me back the next day or the day after.
She didn't.
She sent me a note on Myspace (when I had Myspace) saying that she didn't really want to call me back anyway. So I sent her a note back asking what I did wrong because it was eating away at me that I didn't know. Something was up, and I wouldn't stop at anything until I heard the truth from the horse's mouth.
So I called her after work today and told her of the the events that happened between me and Dudley last night. Then she finally opened up to me, telling me why she was upset with me - it was about my comment towards her late friend, PJ. He died in a drunk driving accident. And when she'd read about my drunken experiences in my Myspace blogs, it'd disgust her. She hated seeing how I was putting myself in these vulnerable situations where I had no control over myself. Something could have happened to me, and it tore her to pieces thinking about those possibilities. She cried. And even though I felt her pain and anguish, I felt SO MUCH BETTER, now that I knew what was eating away at her.
We talked about this, and although my answers were not clear or morally right, I have a reasons for doing things. I like to get drunk, I think it's fun. And although Morgan might have thought so at a point in her life, it's not longer the route for her. And that's fine, I respect her for that decision. She doesn't need to respect my decision to drink, but I feel she does need to respect me as a person. I support her and want her to support me in return. What I can promise is that I will make a futile attempt to not let my drinking get out of control when I do drink. I make it sound like I drink everyday, but in reality, I get drunk (slightly or full-blown) about an average of once a month. I don't think that's a horrible amount, it's very fair for a 22-year-old.
But now she shed the light on me. She told me why she wanted almost nothing to do with me and my chosen lifestyle. I can't say that I blame her, but because she's my best friend and I'm hers, I expect her to be there to listen when I have something to say and share, and when I ask for advice, I expect honest answers. Why else would I confide in her? I trust her. She gives me her honest opinion and even if it's brutal, I would rather hear the truth from her than a lie. That would hurt more.
As far as I'm concerned, things are cleared up between us. We don't have to call each other everyday, but I would like to talk a least every few days. Share what's been going on, minor or major, in our everyday lives. She may be 2400 miles away, but a phone makes me feel like she's much closer.
Thank you, God, for allowing Morgan the power to be honest and open up to me. Thank you, Morgan, for your priceless friendship. You have no idea how much you mean to me, even if I don't show it like I should. Love is truly the greatest power of all.

Big Bang...BIG BANG!!!

One day gone from that horrid Myspace website and here I am again, blogging. I suppose blogging is a regular part of my life. So was Myspace, but I honestly feel it came in between me and a personal relationship of mine.
Hi, my name is Kim, and for the last seven months I was in an interesting romantic relationship. But I felt more like a nagging mother to her child than a girlfriend for the last three months. As of yesterday, I am once again, a single woman.
He wasn't THAT great of a person to begin with. But, as usual, I had love goggles on. Those tend to fog up pretty badly when you're in too deep of a love puddle. Please, take my word for it.
I met this person at my workplace. I told myself to not become attracted to him, because, one time, in the past, the same thing happened, except the guy was attracted to me, and I allowed him to pursue me. Then we dated for almost two years and also worked at the same place during that time. Seeing the person you're dating inside AND outside of your working environment is probably the least healthy thing you can do to your relationship. So I should have learned that lesson, right? WRONG.
Before I go any further, the person I was trying to pick up on at work has a name. Yep, he does! It's Dudley. Please, save your snickering comments at the end of the blog.
Anyways, I found Dudley's Myspace. At the time it was probably the hip and trendy thing to do. Instead of Googling your potential dates, you Myspace them! Interesting concept, no? So I added him and for about a month we sent each other silly Myspace notes, mostly in the form of movie and song quotes.
One night I was already particularly wasted from sampling beers when I sent him a note. He was online, and we sent each other notes back and forth, and eventually, he called me and came over to have some beer with me. That story cut short, I was sick and he stayed over and needless to say it makes an interesting memory for a first date.
Our courtship was fun most of the time, especially in the beginning. We went and saw movies, went out to some fun college bars, and even ran in a 10K together. But things moved fast and heated up even faster, and of course, I fell. Hard. As usual. I would write in my diary and ask God why he didn't call me everyday. Why didn't he like me as much as I liked him?
Things got better though. He came around and eventually called me more often and even said "I love you" first. There, the deal was sealed, right? Well, sure. But along with me fallling in love really fast including me turning into the green eyed monster known as Miss Jealous.
He flirted with other girls at work, especially with one in particular. It made me cry, and I made sure he saw the tears. He got better at not flirting so much, especially in front of me.
But then I started checking up on him, assigning secret spies at my job. Some of my closer workmates would tease him about not treating me right. Hey, a girl's gotta get love somehow.
But then I'd also check for any signs on his Myspace. Anytime someone on his friends list sent him a comment, I'd go to their Myspace (pending that it was a public profile) and see if he left them a note. There was this particular girl, Christina, whom he'd leave flirty comments with occasionally. I should know that the comments were harmless, but I couldn't help it - she lives where he used to live and she was cute. Dudley likes cute girls. And by cute I mean young and act silly and adorable at the same time. Why else was he dating me? :)
Then things took a sour turn. Dudley felt he wasn't doing well in school and felt he had no other options in life, and decided that joining the Air Force was his best bet. What?!? What sparked this sudden decision? It threw me like a curveball, and it prevented me from falling any harder than I had at that point. I was at a love standstill. The plan was that he was leaving for Bootcamp in San Antonio, Texas, in November. And that this commitment was at least 2-5 years. So the relationship was already doomed. And instead of getting dumped or dumping him right away, what do I do? Try and spent as much time as possible with him, maybe even change his mind about leaving. A girl can dream, right?
Flash forward to two days ago. We spent the evening together and had a few drinks. My stomach was so full of liquid that I couldn't drink anymore but had a good buzz going for a few hours. He kept right on drinking. By then, my A/C had blown out and the heat was making me tired so I went to bed. He stayed up. The next morning, after I took him home, I checked my Myspace and his, and saw Christina left him a comment. I went to her page and he typed in caps, "I MISS YOU LIKE JOURNEY MISSES STEVE PERRY."
Now I know by now you're thinking, "Oh God Kim, stop being so silly and paranoid." I don't care what you think. Dudley had wandering eyes and a flirty persona, I didn't want to lose him to ANYONE. Because believe you me, I'm not all that hot. Or great, especially with the way I had been acting. It was time to do something. I couldn't go on living like this, nagging him constantly about not calling me and what not (trust me there were more problems I had with him besides him not calling me all I'd liked him to). He got annoyed with me more than often, and I got mad at him more than often. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong.
So I went to pick him up at work yesterday, Tuesday evening. This was the day I had planned on ending our relationship. He bought me a bouquet of yellow tulips. Oh great, that doesn't help me at all! Maybe I'll wait til next week to dump him. We went back to my place and I made dinner - pizza sandwiches. The last meal. I don't know what set it off, but he brought it up for the second time - how he always got annoyed with me and how I always got mad at him. So we decided it was the best for the both of us that we end the relationship. The thing that made me cry was me asking him, "If you knew you were feeling this way, and we both knew you were leaving in November anyway, why didn't you just do anything back when you knew what you were feeling?" Or maybe it went "If I knew I was feeling like this, and you knew you were feeling the same way, why didn't you just say anything in the first place?" I think that statement hit home for him, and I can't be 100% positive, but I'm sure that out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shed a few tears.
So we went into my bedroom and talked some more, and he held me. Now that I think about it, because he knew he had already hurt me and had finally realized the repercussions on the lack of his actions, he held me to comfort me. Just because the relationship was over didn't mean he didn't want to hang out with me anymore.
It'll be a little hard at first. I'll still keep my phone nearby in case he wants to call. And I'm sure there's still some tears to shed.
Speak of the devil...
Here come the tears!!
Alright, now I must try to distract myself. He still told me that just because it's over doesn't mean that he doesn't still want to be friends. And I told him that I hope he's true to his word because in the past I have had boyfriends say they still wanted to be friends, but after a short period of time I hardly heard from them again. That, and they really didn't want anything to do with me, despite my being a nice girl and giving them their space.
Bottom line, truthfully, I want Dudley to be happy. And I know he wants me to be happy. But we couldn't make each other happy like we wanted to be, so this relationship didn't happen at the right place and time. We both want different things. And it's better to find this out sooner than later so that no major mistakes are made.
I will always remember the first time we hung out - I was super drunk and became sick, he held my hair and stayed the night. The 10K we ran together. Our first night at the Big Bang together and hitting up Mill Avenue with heavy intoxication (along with an unpleasant run-in with a belligerent co-worker). Valentine's dinner. St. Patrick's Day - Flogging Molly concert with his best friend, Matt, in town. Movie dates. Having beers at Baby Kay's with some co-workers then going to see the Dave Chappelle movie, drunk. Disneyland on my birthday. Weekend in Las Vegas. The "Esteban" joke.
I do believe him when he says he still wants to be friends, and I think he will make a futile attempt to do so. We just have to go Dutch on dates, which works out to my benefit because I played the sugarmama role most of the time. I'm just afraid to be more hurt than I already am. Maybe he'll prove me wrong when people say that ex-boyfriends and girlfriend cannot be just friends afterwards.
Now...the sex opportunity, is lost but not forgotten. I know, I know, sex is off-limits. It'll only hurt me more because I've learned that the "friends with benefits" concept does not work with my heart..............but I can't help it if I'm horny.
Be strong, Kim. Be strong.
And welcome to the new chapter in my life, everyone!