I used to watch a lot of Sex and the City.
(Tell us something we don’t already know Sarah…)
Of course I identified with Carrie. Loved her little apartment, could do without the shoes and couture, I prefer to be barefoot and shop at thrift stores.
And LA over New York, always.
I almost published an article in the late spring called “Too Many Samanthas” my girls were slipping sideways leaving me to be Carrie, Miranda and Charlotte all by my damned self.
I used to hang out with a Polish stripper a few years my junior who I affectionately referred to as BabyWhoKitteh.
I pretty much lived at her house. Had keys, rented a parking space in her undergound, had a shelf in the closet that was mine.
I think my marriage lasted longer because I had a place to claim sanctuary.
But we knew all this too.
I have this weird feeling my muse has already packed up and gone to Florida without me. I have the same few songs and phrases playing on loops in my head. No new boys to speak of, the old ones are just being themselves so here, but not here. One foot in my world and the other in their own.
My mind is already at the ocean too, body and soul soon to follow.
I know I will heal exponentially when I am there.
Last year’s trip was a right off, kidlet left early and I was on a train to crazy town with fake soldier boy not knowing how close it came to derailing and blowing me up in the process. I got off with one stop to spare. Plus The Hulk wasn’t working. The roller coaster, not the man.
The same trip the year before I spent my time in the long lines for rides filthy sexting with an old friend, but still stuck in a relationship I didn’t want to end over skype. My sexting friend doesn’t get mentioned here much other than to say sometimes superheroes drive big black tow trucks. The way I spoke to him and the amount of fun I had doing so gave me the courage to leave that last draining relationship and I am forever grateful. He has saved me in more ways than I can explain.
Out of all the boys and men I mention with regularity I do wonder.
Are any of you pulling for anyone? Is there a dark horse from my past that anyone hopes rejoins the race?
I posted an article about the Giant Returning. I didn’t go into much depth and detail as to what we spoke about because a) I was drunk and so was he and b) I am scared to message him and fact check.
I do think I remember him telling me that he never did have the talk with Not Becky that he once said he did. I think I recall him saying he missed me every day and I know he said he loved me, more than once. I know he does. It’s not a secret.
The above mentioned article got shared 270 times in under a week. I forget sometimes that other people read what I write. I always tell the truth this really is the story of my life. I had to stop talking about some of the men in my past because I had to stop thinking about them, it hurt a lot. I don’t understand how someone can love someone else and not even try. I wasn’t built that way but lordy-lord that is exactly who I attract.
So everything gets left, unrequited, open-ended and a general mess until I decide to stop. Which is usually long after I should have quit. And even then, one word, one mention and 3 more articles ensue.
I guess I am wondering if everyone who reads this has been following the continuing saga of this one or that one. Especially the Giant.
Mr. Big was the main character in Carrie Bradshaw’s life. We were all secretly and not so secretly pulling for him. Sure Aiden was great but he lacked the spark, the Russian was interesting but passionless as well. I know there were other players, Berger being one, the one who dumped her on a post-it, but beyond them…I cannot recall.
I write more than I want to about the Lumberjack. It is nice having something calm and soothing that belongs to just me. When I spill bits about him here I feel … yucky? He doesn’t want to share me. I don’t want to share him either.
There is no point to this post really. Just turning a pebble over in my head, wondering why that article got shared so very far and wide.
If I am being honest…parts of me are pulling for the Giant too. Not sure how or why. The fact that he didn’t clear breakfast/sex/dinner with Not Becky before we went out like I asked him to and held the lie for 10 months makes me see with alarming clarity how I would be treated if I was his girl. That and the fact that we cheated on her for the first month after they made it official. Part of me would trust him regardless, shit.
This isn’t a TV show, or a book. It’s my life.
I am bound by the choices I make. I was just speaking to the Stripper Whisperer just now and said out loud that “I can see two paths, continue on with the army of fuckbois and commit to hoe life, or be with someone I have a future with. But I don’t want it being 2 years from now without it moving forward, that is the only thing that scares me.”
I needed a fuckboi break anyways, made for good writing but a lot of tears and fucked up situations that left me exclaiming “I can’t make this shit up.”
Maybe I should start writing fiction, now that my existence is blissfully no longer stranger than.
So, once upon a time…