I wrote an article as a guest contributor to The Sexy Single Mommys blog:
Here are a few key points about having a mutually healthy and beneficial relationship….
I wrote an article as a guest contributor to The Sexy Single Mommys blog:
Here are a few key points about having a mutually healthy and beneficial relationship….
“Sabine, this is Dr. Lee, the results of your sonogram came in…”
I patiently waited, not in any kind of angst, because I already knew what she was going to tell me. I could feel it inside of me: a hard circular mass protruding from my abdomen, slightly more towards the left.
I haven’t noticed it until the recent weeks and I knew it was time to see Dr. Lee…to confirm my suspicions — and she did.
***Now What to Do?***
It is a long weekend, and I called Jon on Monday afternoon whilst out with friends enjoying the festivities in Brooklyn. I reached Jon’s new apartment around sunset. He came out to meet me as I walked from the train station since I apparently sounded like I had one too many (which was only one) to drink.
This neighborhood is definitely an upgrade from his former bachelor pad. There are more family houses representing an old European tradition, and no buildings nearby. His, is a basement dwelling in the very last house of a dead end. Ironically, you could still see the above ground train go by – but from street level. A more industrial type community with warehouses and lots not too far down the main street; but on his corner, had a close knit homey feel.
“How you feelin’?” I asked.
“Not too bad, I just woke up…did some cocaine last night!” He gleamed.
“Oh, K. You hung over or something?” I asked. I mean it was around 6pm by now and he was only awake for a few hours?
But upon entering, I immediately noticed a dirty cheap mattress smack dab on the living room floor. It’s where he sleeps, and I could see some dirt and leaves on it…either from being drag from on top of a car or maybe because he doesn’t take off his shoes when entering the house. Straight ahead to the right was a small bathroom and an even tinier sink, which I assumed was there for novelty purposes and not for any functioning value. Pass this, you entered the kitchen and the door to the bedroom is on the left and at the end of the kitchen is the back door to the yard.
On a whole, it is smaller than the apartment he shared with Neil, but his room is bigger…at least to hold a full size bed, but not a queen size like he originally wanted. It is painted yellow and although he did not like the color, he is too lazy to change it, and too lazy to put his furniture together.
“Have you been sleeping on the floor all week?” I asked.
“Yeah, Neil took apart his bed and gave it to me and the mattress. He’s suppose to by later this week to help me put it together.” Jon responded.
So we bantered a bit….I told him about the festivities in Brooklyn, and he teased me for being too “drunk” and him having to come out and “save me”…I played right into it–until–I don’t know how it was brought up…I remember trying to be nice and friendly as I had been all weekend.
He took a few hits from his bong, he offered it to me but I turned it down. I went over and sat on the mattress on the floor.
And then it was brought up — maybe I said something or he did. It could have been a snide remark like, “See, we have nothing in common” or “Oh, at least when I get drunk, I remember the phone calls I make” or maybe it was about sex, and I refused again to have relations with someone who had no intentions….”Its hypocritical for two people who are attracted to each other to not have sex…” He stated.
He was laying on the mattress and I was sitting at the edge of it. Maybe between his coke and the pot and my homemade moonshine (that someone made in their bathtub and sold on the street)…the lines of communication got jumbled.
“Look, I could have done a purely sexual thing, if you had told me on the first night that we met…but now I know you and it doesn’t—” I tried to explain.
“SO YOU WOULD HAVE FUCKED ME IF YOU DIDN’T KNOW ME?!?!” He yelled, face down into the pillow.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” I explained, it didn’t seem like he is understanding what I am trying to say.
“It would have been easier if you told me upfront….I would have probably agreed–” I continued.
“SO ALL THIS WORK….JUST SO WE COULD HAVE SEX AND NOW YOU WON’T HAVE SEX WITH ME?” He yelled, “YOU’RE DAMNED IF YOU DO! YOU’RE DAMNED IF YOU DON’T!” He’s getting upset and I don’t know why.
“What do you mean work?..I thought we were getting along and knowing each other…like when you came to that parade with me over the summer, and we walked and held hands to the bakery…and remember you gave me a ride home.”
“I WAS JUST USING YOU! I WAS DOING ALL THAT TO USE YOU! JUST FOR YOUR BODY” He exclaimed.
“You gave me a ride home just to use me for sex….hhhmmmmm” I thought.
“YOU WERE USING ME TOO!” He countered back, “YOU WERE USING ME FOR MY HEART!”
I wanted to tell Jon this:
Look, I don’t do friends with benefits because there are no benefits for me. If you wanted to have a fling, and if you had told me that up front; then I probably would have done it. But it would have been a one night stand and that’s it. You would call me the next day and I would ignore your calls.
I wouldn’t have gotten to known him and care about him. In fact, I almost went that way when he did call the next day….but then something crossed my mind that made me turn my phone on and call him back: I want something more with this guy and I don’t want to hurt him.
But I didn’t explained all that. Instead, Jon turned around and faced up at me, I had been leaning over him, with a half-cocked smile and using a teasingly higher pitched voice. I guess, he really believed that I was enjoying our new sexless friendship (maybe more than our sex [sorta full] romance?) because then he said:
“We don’t have anything in common that we talk about or can do together. (Sigh) There’s this girl at this coffee shop that I go to on my breaks. She works there, and will go outside to smoke on her break. She’s the biggest Joseph Campbell fan, and we talk about him all the time when I’m there and…she’s really attractive.” He said with a smile, the kind that showed his teeth, which looked whiter and squinted his eyes as he looked directly at me. “I’m thinking about asking her out for lunch or something.”
I wore my typical poker face, some part of me had accepted the fact that Jon would move on and find someone else…more attractive, more in tune with his needs — a smoker like him, a sci-fi enthusiast, a video-game master…kinky and flexible in the bedroom, as well as a scholarly intellect to talk about Dr. Campbell’s work–all rolled into one.
I don’t know why we never talked about intellectual topics, I don’t usually bring up much in conversation….I’m a listener not a talker. I listened when Jon would talk about the local politicians and some of their corrupted ways. Or on his more conservative views on term limits, taxes, and government programs. I listened to it all, but I guess I rarely contribute back…but he would monologue for an hour about these things. I never interrupted to give my 0.02¢
I sorta smiled and encouragingly replied,”Well that’s good, so at least you’re more confident about approaching women.” And that is good for his confidence if he’s able to approach attractive women and start–
I was pushed aside physically and in my thought process, as Jon groaned loudly and got off from the bed. He began agitatedly looking for a pack of smokes.
“What’s wrong? Did I–” Maybe I wasn’t suppose to bring up his lack of self confidence while praising him? I thought.
“The things I’m interested in are very narrow and deep. I don’t want to just tell you my interests….they have to come up in conversation!” He said, almost as if he read my mind.
He took another hit.
Well, why the hell not I thought as I looked at him–miserable at our conversation which turned into a fight, in which I thought I said the right things by praising him– just made him completely shut down. So I grabbed the tall glass device, and inhaled as deeply as I could, and took in a slow burn which started in middle of my chest and spread upwards.
I coughed uncontrollably and took a few deep breaths of very cool and dry air, to put out the fire in my heart.
He put on a movie for me, which was suppose to be scary and it was! Though horror films are my favorite genre, it was too much for me to handle while pokin’ smot. Plus, he had really shiny quarters on his desk that drew my attention away from most of the film. I poked around and found a notebook of graphing paper that had a bunch of poorly drawn figures, and something entitled “Important rules from Sailor Pete to getting laid”
“Who’s Sailor Pete?” I giggled out.
1. Buy her drinks, and for yourself too, but make sure she’s drunker than you
2. Put on a movie, but not one with a lot of violence in it
3. I forgot what this last one was, but you can only imagine my face…somewhere between shock and comedy as I didn’t take it seriously as advice that any man would follow or work for him. But Jon seemed pretty solemn when I asked him about it.
And that’s when I saw it. His face looked very different. He looked like — Adam! Someone I went to high school with….then I started thinking:
Well my inhibitions are low…so hopefully I won’t regret this in the morning. Plus, he does look a little sad…
So I grabbed his face and kissed him. Jon is completely taken back. “Let’s do it, take off your pants.” I said.
“Wait, wait. The food is here.” He said as the doorbell rang.
In a few minutes we were eating and I was back to “watching” the movie. It seemed like a very long time, but in retrospect maybe ten minutes passed. But I can’t believe Jon would finish eating in ten minutes…
“Alright, I’m ready.” He said, as he began to caress my arm and back.
Now I’m completely taken back, “What are you doing?!” I demanded.
“What, you wanted to have sex!” Jon replied.
“What are you talking about?” I responded dumbfounded. At the time, what happened ten minutes ago seemed like years ago, as for the life of me, I could not remember what happened.
I remember looking at coins, and someone gets eaten by the wolf, and the food came, oh yeah I think he looks different too…as I squinted my eyes peering very hard into an invisible near past.
“Just now, you mouth-raped me!” He exclaimed.
“Oh…well I guess we could, but I’m not in the mood.” I yawned. “Maybe I need some more.”
So I breathed in, the burn, the deep breath. And then I felt very cold and lonely, or more like needy.
I put my hand on his leg, “OK, fine. Why the heck not?” I asked as I undid his pants. “Come on, are you hard? I thought you said you wanted to have sex.”
“I do, and NO, I’m not hard!” He retorted.
“So get hard, let’s go, its getting late…” I teased.
“I can’t just do that! I need foreplay, Sabine!” He cried and he began to kiss me, in all his sloppy mannerism, which in my state of mind and with our supposed boundaries I didn’t care for or tried.
(Sigh) as I came up for air.
“You’re suppose to keep kissing” He demanded.
“Well, I need a break, besides when does the foreplay come into effect?” I whined. I felt like I was making out for 20 minutes (although it was probably 20 seconds).
“THIS IS FOREPLAY!! DON’T YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT SEX!?!?!” He cried out.
“Yeh I do, and as your friend I don’t have to do foreplay. Besides why can’t we something that I like? A massage or some petting..” I said dreamily.
“NO!!! THAT’S NOT HOW YOU HAVE SEX!” He replied.
“Yeah, cause your way is the only way to have sex, its in all the books” I mumbled.
I’m now laying on the mattress staring up at the ceiling. I turned towards Jon.
“Come, lie down…I’m cold and want body heat.” I wanted to cuddle with him, feel him, touch him….he didn’t come right away. Instead, he looked at me as if I had a man-eating pariah waiting for him as soon as he’d step on the mattress.
He lied down and I gently began to caress his chest. I kissed his ear and neck as I let my hand wander. Finally alert, he sat up and I took off his shirt, but I struggled with his pants. He removed my shirt and bra and laid me on my back. I let him kiss me on the lips and he begins to work his way down…ignoring my cold breasts and nipples, and heading for the jeans.
He slowly started to undo my jeans, but not in a sexy graceful way, but it seemed like he was fumbling…or stalling? So, I reached with my hands to pull them down.
“Don’t touch your jeans, let me do it for you.” He ordered.
A few more smooches on my pubic mound and centimeter by centimeter he slid them down. I tried to arch my back so they can come off and I could pull them down from behind.
“DON’T SABINE! I WANT TO DO THIS FOR YOU!!!!”
“I know, I was trying to help….” I mumble….today is the day that I’ve ever seen Jon angry.
I looked back up at the ceiling, and a really troublesome hood draped over me. Something felt wrong about this scenario. Whatever I was thinking an hour ago, or maybe 2 minutes ago when we started…it felt wrong now. And then her voice rang in my head:
It’s about the size of 12 weeks
“JON!” I exclaimed, sitting up right and pulling my pants back up.
“I TOLD YOU NOT TO HELP AND TO LET ME DO THIS FOR YOU!! THIS WAS ALL FOR YOU…..YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO HAVE SEX….YOU’RE BAD AT SEX!!….” It seemed like he was screaming off the top of his head. And where it was quiet before, footsteps from upstairs began to walk.
“I think you woke up—” I started.
“I DON’T CARE!!!! I WAS DOING THIS FOR YOU!!!!” He continued.
Speaking of which, to be continued.
I have been nominated for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award by Adventure for Words; who is a great blogger and very multi-talented! I encourage you, to check out her site.
Here are the rules of the award:
1.) Display the award logo on your blog.
2.) Link back to the person who nominated you.
3.) State 7 things about yourself.
4.) Nominate 15 bloggers for this award.
5.) Notify those bloggers of the nomination by linking to one of their specific posts so that they get notified by ping back.
7 things about me-
2. Played piano for over ten years
3. Learned five languages
4. My favorite past times are reading and listening to music
5. I travel a bit, internationally
6. I’ve fallen in love with a Newspaper reporter, and now I have a blog about it
7. I’m thankful for those who have supported me in this endeavor!
15 Blogs I nominated for the award:
My Relationship Journey
Patrick Latter – Canadian Photography
Holding The Distaff
Finding Ann McGregor
Musing of Space[d] Girl
Eat Well Be Well Live Well
Kinda OCD in NYC
Party of Ones
Some of these blogs are long time favorites, while others (like me) are starting out..so when you have a chance– show some love to these inspiring bloggers!
But seriously, y'all.
The traditional Disney Prince has about as much sparkle and panache as something completely lacking in sparkle and panache. He has a creative name like "The Prince" "Prince Charming" "Prince Phillip" "Prince Eric" or "Prince Adam" (that's the actual name of the Beast, apparently), and no personality. Ok, well, the Beast has a personality, but the only thing anyone else does is be obsessively fixated on some girl he met once in the woods.
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
4,329 films were submitted to the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. This blog had 21,000 views in 2012. If each view were a film, this blog would power 5 Film Festivals
Thank You viewers for making this new blog a powerhouse in 2012, and I hope you continue to visit, comment, and share your thoughts with me. Have a happy and safe 2013!!!
“Is that why you asked me to come over?” I demanded, swinging my legs to the other side of the bed as I stood up.
I looked at him for an answer, but his eyes glazed over from the smoke of his bong, seemed clueless at the situation unfolding before him.
And in retrospect, I do feel a little sorry for the guy; I forgot how socially awkward he is, and how maybe his “playfulness” went down smoother in his mind.
“Jon…is this all you want me for…?” I asked, probably a little more shocked, then angry.
“What…what are you talking about?” He giggled out.
I faced him on the bed, then I stood up and fished around for my belongings.
“I should get going” I mumbled….loudly
“Are you leaving already?” He asked, I know he wasn’t laughing or smiling because he was happy, but…maybe….is this time? Maybe I can talk some sense into him?
I stared at him from across the room, as his red eyes glazed back at me.
“Hey you know…” As I stepped forward, with my shoulders relaxed and voice softened. I sat next to him on the bed and gently placed my hand on his warm stomach.
“I have work tomorrow…..and you didn’t say I could bring my stuff…” I began to explain, I didn’t want to look like a monster, walking out on —-
“Well, I was testing you!….” He exclaimed.
WTF! Testing me? What kind of test is that? What is the point, of not giving me an answer about sleeping over, if you wanted me to?
“Jon what the hell? Testing me? Why for….do you think that’s right? I really really like you! It hurts” I yelled back.
“Well then you should have….” He continued, I was staring at him but had tuned him out. Testing me?
“Hey look, are you meeting new people?” I asked, while playfully caressing his stomach.
“No.” He answered.
“Oh, how come?” I blinked.
“Well I have a hard time approaching women…starting conversation” He explained.
I know he doesn’t like the bar scene, or just about any scene….but I wanted to make sure that he was….really really available.
“Well you know, I’m having a hard time meeting new people too, in fact I don’t want to meet new people cause all I think about is you.” I said. It was honest and straightforward.
“What! But you wanted an open relationship!” He said, still smiling though.
“I remember what I said, but that was before….(Like chapter 5 before) this is now. I have developed feelings for you, deep feelings.” I’m practically serenading this now.
“Why do you want to be with me now?” He asked.
“Hhhmmmm…well I think it’s a practical solution for two people that like each other and are seeing each other to get together…” I answered. I felt a little stupid answering this, isn’t it obvious?
He likes me.
I like him.
He declared his affection for me.
I’m declaring my affection for him.
Let’s date. 1+1=2. You’re a smart boy, do the math. Bitch.
“That’s not a good enough reason for me to be with you.” He said, “You don’t even like being with me…”
Now he’s kicking his legs around and shaking his head like a 5 year old that was just told to brush his teeth.
“Ya! How could you say that? I do like being with you, I call you, text you, pick up the tab, slept with you before…how could you not see that I like you? Cause I don’t smile or do PDA? You have to understand that with Caribbean men…I’m not use to all the physical affection….but that doesn’t mean I hate it! Or that I don’t like you!” I’m screaming…why aren’t my words getting through his cloudy head?
“Well then why don’t you date a Caribbean guy then?” He screamed back.
Sigh. Why don’t I?
“Goodnight Jon” As I walked out of his apartment,
“Goodnight” he said as he turned in his bed….to…I don’t know.
“Call me tomorrow”
“Sure, I’ll call. Just make sure you remember to turn your phone on” He retorted.
Ok…Ok so maybe I didn’t forget to turn on my phone. But who the fuck cares? I didn’t know he’d call. I really didn’t.
In fact, I am really surprise that not only did he call, but he wanted me to come over…..but it’s a lie!!!
He doesn’t care, and I know he doesn’t. We’re probably going to break up, and I need this to end because it is just killing me.
When I wake up all I think about is him, before I go to sleep I wonder if he’s asleep too. Every time something comes up, I wonder “What Would Jon Do, or think about this?” I do everything but dream about him.
I can’t eat, I can’t think apart from Jon. I’m sick. This is a sickness, it’s not healthy. I could feel my life bleeding out of me.
I need to hold things together. Maybe, I’m not doing what I can to really show my feelings. But how do I know he has them for me? I gotta make him talk to me…..how?
I just need to know before I go further. I feel so….“uncertain” would be putting it lightly. I was vulnerable, like –at his mercy—vulnerable. You know, like when someone puts a gun to your head and its completely up to them if you live or die.
Yes, that kind of vulnerable.
And I needed to know my odds of survival, I had to calculate the possibility of me getting through this alive. With or without Jon.
I must think about survival not love.
I need to know…if you feel the same way. If you want me like I want you.
Cause if not, then I have to prepare…starting now. For survival.
Would you know, that I’d be the one placing the gun in his hand?
Chapter 12: Hey, let’s go on a (speed) date!!
“Yeh, that sounds like fun…let’s do it! We can both go and get numbers to m–”
“Jon, I don’t want to go speed dating!!!” I cried
Jonnelle not only does photography but website design, thanks to him TheReporterandTheGirl has a brand new look, but still no superheroes!!