Former Loves Before Fucktard

I am alone and Fucktard is not here.  I mentioned writing about the other men in my life.  There were lots of them, and I immensely enjoyed my college days because of so many of them -- who took away my lonesomeness after I broke off with my very first boyfriend of two years...

This list is not in the order these guys came into my life:

There was D, of course, the object of my refreshing dream  -- and whose profile I recently saw on Facebook.

And there was F, who is now a high-ranking politician in this province up North. This guy is another great guy, and one great guy he will be, until the end.  We didn't become lovers, but we often dated.  Just like that.  He played the drums, and he liked jazz, we had so many things in common, and music was one thing that linked us together.  Unfortunately that time, we both didn't want to be involved with anyone just yet. We liked each other very much, but for some reason, the "mutual" relationship, whatever or however one could term it, died a natural death.  This guy is also in, -- you guessed it right, -- Facebook.

J belonged to a then-popular dance group composed of 3 guys, and we also dated, but he is practically in show business, and I didn't like the idea of exposing and sharing my love life with the public.  So we remained friends, and eventually, he disappeared just like that.

I went out with boys but managed to preserve myself until I married Fucktard.  Looking back, I should have played along, and strung out these guys like pearls.  Just like what most of my girl friends did in college.

I drove my own car and didn't ride with my dates.  How prudish I was, you see!  I think I managed to ride with D when we dated.  But that was it, and all I could remember. Or my parents had a driver drive for me, and a nanny who went along with me even at school...

To this day, my high school buddies and I often meet every month or so, just to eat, chat, and be merry.  We often end up talking about old or lost loves, or how our choices in the past could have altered the present...

There was another J whom I dated, and he too was in show business.  But the guy was torn between me and a former love, so I junked him.  It wouldn't be so if his former didn't pester me on the phone, crying that she needed him.  I hate soap operas. (And just like the soap opera that he starred in, he lived a life like so.)

T was a spinner and disc jockey, and I resented the fact that I was much taller than he was.  He was a  super slob too and wanted to get in my pants after only a few weeks of getting to know each other.  This animal masturbated right in front of me when I refused to go to bed with him.  What a major ass this guy was.  Looking back, I'm just thankful he did just that than force himself on me.  What he did in front of me instantly devirginized my eyes, and earned him the title of royal slob.  What a major creep.  Saw him in ubiquitous FB, and he looks like a loser now.  Poor guy.  But what he lacked in height, he makes up for penis circumference and all, hahahah!  I remember how he jacked off in front of me -- he looked silly, and I felt like I wanted to puke while I watched.  I think T should earn himself a separate entry in this blog.

R had the deepest, soothing voice ever.  I believe I played around with this poor guy's heart.  I found him boring as ever, and I hated the way he dressed up like an office worker when we went out.  I thought he could fit in my type, but I was wrong.  There wasn't anything we could talk about, and my interests were not his interests.  He could not supply anything about the books I read, or the dogs I loved, and I think he did not even read the articles that I wrote in the magazine I was working for.

A was Chinese, (a bit like me) -- but also a lot older than I was.  I thought we'd end up together, but just the same, I grew tired of him.  HE HAD HAS A SMALL TINY PENIS.  I just know.  Okay, so who wants to have a boy toy with an itty-bitty penis?

More random posts next time...

Random Thoughts

When I started exchanging letters with D, I kept a copy of what I sent to the US, and of course, kept what he wrote back to me too. 

Once again I regret that I had to throw all those letters when I was about to be wed to Fucktard.  Damn it!!!  Those letters would have come in handy during times like these -- that I feel so ugh!

When I wrote that post about D a few weeks ago, I was thinking, he should not read what I wrote (or intend to write).  But to hell, I now do not care at all even if he reads this entire blog.  Or anyone for that matter.  As long as I remain faceless, then that would suffice.

I like that I can write anything that comes up in my brain, whether senseless things outpour, and my entries deviate from what is supposed to be written -- like how I hate to be jailed in this fucking relationship...

I am one smart ass, and I end up, with this freak of a husband.  He is soooo insensitive, I tell ya.  Imagine, I worked hard to get fabulous grades in college, became quite a popular figure in campus while writing articles for a teen magazine, was given a column of my own, wrote for other magazines after that, even wrote for the University paper, graduated cum laude, took up master's, taught in the academe, and all I get is this SHIT!

Okay, I ended up marrying a guy who comes from a family of educators, and culinary enthusiasts.  But to me, they are all brainless shits because they don't even get it that they are such a wise-crack family, and I wanna get the hell out of their family tree.

This entry is so wayward, my mind is racing from all angles, and I just could not get what I truly want to write about.  I just want to write.

Oh please, world, talk to me.  Where are the ladies who wrote me a few months or weeks ago, telling me about how shitty their husbands are too???  Email back, girls!

I feel like I want to join the lonely hearts club.

In Facebook, I want to kill all those wives who whore their husbands in their accounts.

I hate it when people post stuff like, "Coffee with my sweetest hubby!"

Or, "Happy Anniversary, Honey!  I thank the heavens for you!" 

Ermagherd, if "Like" buttons could only be bomb buttons, I would gladly push them in one entire day.

Nothing Else to Write About

I just remembered -- I failed to reply to two people who left a message in this blog.  Will have to make a mental note to reply to them...

The evening is boring as usual.  A slight rain pour is happening outside as I type this.  Turns out there is a typhoon.  Everyone is asleep -- son and husband, and dog are all knocked out , except for me and my daughter, who is in her room and reading some fan fiction love story.

Sometimes I am tempted to write a story and submit to fan fiction.  But then I get chicken when I daydream that it would hit a zillion readers, and I'd be forced to divulge who I really am.  So I guess this blog will suffice at the moment.  To this time I still regret that I had to destroy my other blogs.  Why didn't I ever think of migrating them here, instead of hitting that delete button!

My cough has progressed into a post nasal drip.  The itchy throat is disgusting and I have to take anti-allergy meds because of this.  Which makes me damn sleepy all the time.

Quite crazy, but I dreamt of D again.  Further, I looked and saw that his daughter and I share the same name.  Well at least, my second name is her first name.  Which also happens to be the first name of my daughter.  How odd!  And his son's second name is the first name of my son too.  Doubly odd!  Now that's what I call a strange coincidence.

As I am typing this, and mentioned earlier, all the world is alseep, except for me and my darling daughter.  She took after me -- a night owl.

I shall prolly write about the other men who came and went out of my life.  Among others, only D and another one -- F, tops the list of those I will never forget.  Although F and I never really came to be.

More about them next time.

Irritants and Other Things

As I am writing this, some things are irritating me: 

- my dog who wants to be carried, picked up, and scratched.

- my shitty husband who lingers behind my laptop to do some things I know may be postponed for tomorrow.

- and the thought that I've wasted at least 3 or 4 blogs in the past -- whose contents are of equal importance as the ones written in this present one, and which I decided to delete in the past because I thought my situation at home will improve.

No. 1 irritant is already taken care of.  Spoiled rotten dog is on the table, close to my laptop.
No. 2 won't be taken care of unless I get a machete and run amuck here.
No. 3 will never be brought back or changed. Ever.  And I've had so may interesting stories there.  Too bad I just decided to open up another one recently.  Too many wasted thoughts thrown away...  Too many recorded feelings wasted.

I am sleepy and my head is spinning.  I've just had the flu and the water tastes so bitter.  Wish I could drink like my girl friends.  This entry is a random thing.  I was just thinking -- how the hell did I end up with a fluke husband!

I finished my BA with honors.  Took my MA and got a decent job in education.  Now am working on another degree and hope to shift gears later on in the working world.  When I get so fucked up in this house, I do my sign language stuff and shitty husband doesn't know what the hell am I saying!

When I go out with my girl friends, they often think how fortunate I am for having a husband. 

One friend is divorced.  She has a regular fuck buddy, though.  Well, that is how she wants to call him.  A nameless, fuck buddy.  At least, she has an unboring, colorful, and exciting sex life!

Another one strongly feels that her husband should at least be at par with her in terms of achievement/s and I guess, wallet size.  One of us asked about her husband --  does he need her because he loves her, or does he love her because he needs her???  Fierce.

And the last, she thought she was a wife.  But turns out there were two or three of them.  So end of story, annulment case is done and finished.

And there is poor me...  Poor me in disguise.  The flip side of all current affairs are all under cover.  No one can know.  Husband has businesses...  He has his super shitty group of friends I call my enemies. 

Oh God, I feel so lonely...

A Most Refreshing Dream

I had the most refreshing dream ever.  Just as my title says above -- I dreamt that my old boy friend and I met again, and fortunately, he seemed to be still attracted and interested in me --  boink!!! in my dream!  I almost fell off the bed for dreaming about wild stuff...  Seriously, but I felt good when I got up for work.

Oh how I truly miss this guy, D -- met him in college and he was from the U.S.  Met him through a common friend.  That was June 25, xxxx.  He was from an exclusive, all-boys' school, and was a few years older than me, very good looking, and also very youthful looking.  He was about 6 or 7 years older than I was.

We had a brief encounter while he vacationed in the city where I lived, but I was young and carefree and wanted to meet more people, so after a few months of writing letters and exchanging adventures and misadventures overseas, I broke off my friendship with him when he moved back to the States.

Now I regret having done that.  We wrote and exchanged letters for the most part, but eventually, the long-distance love affair succumbed.

I searched him up in Facebook one shitty day, -- the devil made me do it -- and there he was --- still as yummy as ever.  He is married too, and I guess he has kids like I do.  Searched his wife, and being the stalker that I am, found her too.  I don't think she came from the same high school I went to. The closest I could ever be to this dream boy is thru -- First:  one common contact in Facebook. Two: his sister is a friend of this common facebook contact I mentioned above, plus a cousin-in-law of mine (oh hell! of all peeps). Third: his nephew is a friend of one of my students (now that's interesting!).  Just a little tough luck, I guess.  Not that I want to see him again, but just thinking of the moments I spent with him many years ago is enough to fuel me.  To what?  Well, I dunno.  Just sayin', just sayin'...  :)  In my dream, I remember stroking his arm, remarking how much darker his skin tone has become, because of golf.

I do journaling and have kept 20+ volumes of them since the late 80's, and now I am tempted to read the old entries I wrote about him.  I still remember how he smelled like...  Sooo good...  He always smelled like fresh linen...  Always well-groomed, and his manner of taking care of me was unforgettable...  He treated me like I was the most precious lady ever.  Well that was how I felt, so I don't really want to think deep if he was honest with me then.  All I know was, whatever we had back then was something I treasured a lot.  A damn, damn, lot.

He told me he had a Vietnamese girlfriend in the States.  I still remember how she looked, wearing that flowery, tube dress in the photo he showed me of her. She looked petite, and according to him, she cooked well.  But hell I didn't care at all.  He said they weren't getting along anymore.  All I wanted was him.  And yes, I leeched his photo from his Facebook profile.  I don't even care if he stumbles upon this blog and remembers who the hell I was in his younger life.  If he remembers --- good.  If not, then let me remain faceless, and nameless to him...  It would probably be better this way.

When I look back at the days I spent during my youth, I always feel a pang of regret...  I believe I wasted so many years of my life not choosing the right man to be with for the rest of my life...

I went out with a great many guys -- and yet I chose my husband.  I want to knock the hell out of me for choosing this guy; sadly, when I think of doing that, I remember I have kids to live for...

I distinctly remember the night this old boy friend of mine, D, left for the States.  I was crying 'til I felt and looked like a limp ragdoll, and stayed on the street until the car he drove was out of view.  That was the evening of Aug. 25, xxxx.  I really fell for him.  But for some reason, when I started gathering my senses back, I figured there were so many guys out there waiting for me.  So stupid as I was, I wrote him a letter and broke my friendship with him.

Again, looking back, I shouldn't have done that.  I shouldn't have closed my doors on him.  Ohhh, stupid, foolish, crazy me...  Now I only have the memories to look back on.  I can still remember how we met, and how shamelessly I gave him a copy of my singing voice -- strumming my lungs out to some mushy love songs of old.  That was surely one shameless plug, heeehaaaa.  I bet you, I wasn't thinking well back then...  I sent him a letter -- with photos of how my day went on a daily basis -- waking up, going to school, dressing up, etcetera, getting ready for bed -- the works, and made it into sort of a scrapbook.  I couldn't believe I had the energy and commitment to make that project for him.  Really, if this guy went on to become my boyfriend for long, I would have probably given him my virginity.  Regretfully, I gave it to the man I am married to now.

I was so young then...  A quiet, college student...  So unassuming and all...  I miss this guy...  Perhaps my dream resurrected all my old feelings for him.  Or not at all; perhaps it's the way my dream has presented itself in my subconscious that makes me think so.  And I feel thankful that I have this blog to make into a sounding board of all my innermost demons and darkest desires.

Oh I am an aging wife and mother...  And the world keeps on spinning and moving on without me at the helm...  I wish I could bring back time...

I would do anything to be young again.

FU All

So your girl friend sent you another text message again. 

FU, both of you, and the rest of your fucking high school friends.

One day I will be able to rise above you all and leave you in your rotting house.

I will find myself another man and leave the shit out of you.

I hate you.

I hate it when you always ignore me. 

When you know how sad or lonely I am, and when something bothers me, you still ignore me, and act normally, as if there isn't anything haywire happening in the household.  I hate you so much.  I wish I had a dfferent husband, a different, better partner in life.  I hate you to the depths of the sea, and to the clouds in the sky.  I wish I could change my life, and re-live it all over again.  I wish I did not marry you, because never in my whole lifetime with you did I feel special and loved, and never still did I feel important or prioritized. 

Always I know that deep inside you, you value your friendships molded in the past.  Always, they will get in the way.  Always, there will be a wedge between your friends and I.  I hate you, and all your high school group.

I hate you, _ _ _ _ (my so-called husband)
I hate you, _ _ _ _ _ (your friend who is still childless)
I hate you, _ _ _ _ (your friend who doesn't have a husband anymore)
I hate you, _ _ _ _ (your friend who was pairing you off with someone else back in college)
I hate you, _ _ _ _ _ (your friend who is in another part of Asia, and is close to you too)
I hate you, _ _ _ _ _ (your friend who is also close to you, and who is also husbandless)
I hate you, _ _ _ _ _ (your friend who also alienated me)

I HATE YOU ALL, I SWEAR, if I die of a brokenheart, I will haunt you all and never leave you in peace.

You Fucktard You

I so hate you very very much.  If looks could only kill, I could have killed you a zillion times over and over.

Just tonight, you came from your high school reunion.  You were there almost the entire day since this afternoon.  And the time says it is  half past 1 in the early morning.  I asked who you saw, and you were quite hesitant to tell me that your best girl friends were there, and they all gave you a smack on the cheek.  Never mind where, but it really kills me to know that and imagine that in my feeble brain. 

I know you had loads of fun being with your fucktard classmates.  Good for you because you have them all.  I so hate this fucking life with you!  And you don't even know that I removed you from my Facebook contacts list.  Hah!

-----

Thank you, Mariel Clayton, for the photo I used.

Like a Withered Flower

My shitty husband claims he is a Christian, but believe me, for over 20 years, he has not picked up the Bible to study or read it.  Today, he is still like a newbie, and could not open a page correctly.  He has to go to the table of contents to check where a topic is located.  I feel so bad about all this and I want to leave him for good.  I am only obligated to stay with him.  I want a new life with a new man who can satisfy my needs as a woman and as a person.

I am dry, parched, and thirsty.  This man is so good in ignoring me all day everyday.  He is a bastard and I so hate this life with him.  I also detest the idea that my Mom, who has a new husband in the States is practically living the good life.  She too, cannot help me because she is all too consumed by taking care of her husband -- well somehow I felt the change in her priorities when she found the man that would make her happy...

Oh God I hate this life!  I want to change my life and go back to the days when I started out as an adult.  I want to correct all the wrongs I committed, choose the path that I failed to take.  For many years I have contemplated on opening a blog like this.  My other two blogs, also on this platform, are goody goody ones.  While I write about how good life is to me, deep inside I know that everything is a lie.

I miss my old, college friend, who decided to leave her shitty husband.  I admire her for doing so.

But Why?

I created this new blog even if I already have one.  I need to vent out my pent up feelings towards my husband who is the worst husband ever.  I wish my Mom was here to comfort me, or talk to me the least, so I could feel better about so many things, which started the minute I decided to marry this man.

If I can only bring back time, I wouldn't have married this guy.  The only reason I am apprehensive about leaving this life is because of my two children.  I do not want to break them.  I want them to grow up whole, unblemished, and happy.  So much unlike me.

No one knows what I am going through because I cannot tell the whole world freely, comfortably...  One, I am a prisoner in this old house.  My parents were foolish not to have left me with their own property after they migrated to the US.  Ergo, I do not own one, even a humble abode or otherwise.  I will forever live in this little house beside my husband's parents, and will forever not have the garden that I've always dreamed of having.

I hate God.  I hate it that He plays favorites, and that He gave me this kind of life as if I am His worst creation.  Right now, I am jobless.  I lost my job a few months back, and I need to have one by next year.  I hate to rely on my husband's money, and wish I am financially independent.

When I married this fucking creep, I thought I would be the happiest woman.  But all things are meant to be dreams for me, I guess.  This man did not take care of me nor our relationship.  He is not a good leader in the household, not a good steward of money, time, all things in general.  He does nothing except sleep, eat, wake up early only to watch the news, listen to the news, read the news, fucking asshole, I promise that's all that he does.  I sometimes wish he had a hobby that I could share doing with.  But no, this man is also stupid, his mouth stinks like shit, and is a certified born loser.  His siblings are far better than him, and I just don't know -- maybe he was a menopausal baby, because everything about him sucks.

When I hurt, he laughs at me and feels nothing about it.  He is the most insensitive guy on Earth.  He does not even count the fact that since I am the woman, I need to be taken care of like a gardener does a flower. He does not open doors for me, does not strive to give me a better life.  In front of the children, he doesn't show any amount of affection to me.  I am afraid my first born will treat his future wife the same way his shitty father does.  And I am fearful too, that my little girl will think all men are born like her dad, she will not marry anymore.  Oh God, if You truly are a living God, then why did You give me this kind of life on Earth?  I am a big loser in my own eyes because of this kind of life I am in, so why did You not pluck me out of this?  I am tired of everything there is.  Please pity me, please do!

When I hurt, this husband does not cry with me.  He ignores me and I do not feel that he loves me.  And so over the years that passed, I also felt like every waking hour is a thing to fulfill because I need to do it.  Because I have my children.  Because his family will curse me if I decide to do what I have been wanting to do ever since.  They all think their son/brother is tops.  What they ought to know is that their son/brother is a big, fat shit of a husband who doesn't know how to treat a wife.

Even my children hate him at times.  Because he does not bond with them.  All he does when they want to have time with him is sleep.  He doesn't even make them laugh.  Oh God, why did he become my children's father?!?  I wish I could turn back the clock.  I wish I could have settled for a better man -- someone who will lead me and my children properly, someone who is a good family man -- husband and father -- someone who is a strong and grounded Christian who will lead me towards doing good and feeling good.

I wish I married a good pastor.  Someone who will be proud of me and my achievements.  Someone who will inspire me until I grow old.  Someone who I can laugh with, converse with, walk with, do something with, all the good, simple stuff in the world!  I so hate my husband.  It is difficult to put into words how this fucking shitty guy is.  He looks pretty innocent, mind you, if you get to meet him.  He is one hell of a good actor.  Not one soul in church knows what we are going through.  I could say the same with his equally fucking shit family.

I wonder what he would think of if this blog appears right in front of his very eyes.  I bet he wouldn't even know.  I bet he would play clueless, as if he did not do anything wrong, or even try to feel guilty of some sort for not being a good husband and provider to me.

Oh God, I so hate my husband!  I need friends to share my story with.  I wish I had real friends who share my dilemma.  I remember many years ago, I thought it would be nice to poison this shit slowly.  If only I had a house of my own, I would not stay in this place.  I would also run away and bring my kids to the States where my Mom is.  Oh, I so hate my husband.  I could scream it out to the whole world and still feel the same bad feeling I am feeling now.

I need friends whom I can share my sentiments with...  Please leave a message if you hate your husband too.

This blog is so liberating...

If words could only kill...