Judy is a punk

I got out of work on Friday at 6pm. I felt like warm shit. The ex picked me up and then we went to get the kids. He asked me about something he heard, I played stupid, I sat in shock all evening that the people around me are such gossip whores. How can a group of reasonably intelligent people in their mid to late twenties (and in some cases, their early thirties) so closely resemble a bunch of old women gabbing at the beauty parlor, or in less affluent and more crafty individuals, a sewing circle? How the fuck?

Well, the thing he heard was an allusion to the fact that I am currently knocked up. Yes, I am, and no I'm not going to have another child right now. I could explain all of the circumstances and justify it. I could tell you about what my goals are, my plans, etc. I will spare you that bullshit and just say that I've thought it through and I can tell you that its the right choice for me. I'm mostly at peace with this decision. I have my intermittent moments of upset. I have my moments of crying and my moments of considering the "what if" scenarios. I come back to a feeling of peace with my decision every time. I'm not even ashamed of it and I honestly don't mind sharing with the world at large because I think that it destigmatizes it and helps average people understand that women who make that choice are not bad people. They're simply women facing a tough personal decision who need support, not judgment. Anyway, I just don't want my ex to know. Not now, not ever.

So after I get home I get to relax some. Ex took the kids for the night, so I was going to meet up with my man. I got in the shower, fixed my hair, did my makeup and got dressed. I listened to a little music and longed to smoke a little pot. I hopped a bus downtown and met my sweetie at his restaurant. He's a waiter and was cut a little early, we got a little bud from a friend he works with and headed to his place. I asked him if he had let the cat out of the bag and he told me that he told his friend in confidence and that apparently this friend was running his mouth to my Ex's friend. Un-fucking-cool. I will have this guy's ass the next time I see him. No worries, though. I now know to keep my mouth shut in the future.

We went out for a little while to one of the more relaxed places on the strip. He wanted to stick around longer than I did (which is about par for the course where my boyfriend is concerned) and invited people over after. So I wasn't thrilled with this, but whatever, I'm a good sport. I know he's really sociable. It doesn't bother me. Its just a little irritating when he says that he just wants to spend some low key time together and that ends up morphing into bar hopping and after parties. So I knew this was happening tonight, but I just rolled with it. We ended up at the taco stand eating delicious tacos and talking with people who we knew. We got a ride back to his place and smoked out with them.

When we got back to his place he was somewhat fucked up. I laid in the bed and got comfortable while he said goodbye outside. I fell asleep. I woke up when he sat on the bed. He laid down and we laid close together, my head on his shoulder and his arm around me. I was dying to make love right then and there, but I vowed not to be so demanding tonight. I tried my best, I really did.

I had been craving his body for days. I know what it feels like to be pestered for sex, so I feel terrible that this has been the story as of late. I've been a terrible horn dog. I wanted to go down on him. I tried to but it was too much for him to handle. He wasn't really game, being tired and drunk and very stoned. He rubbed me off. I just wanted him inside me more than anything. I think that my body was in total shock, I've never felt that sensation before in my life. I was trying to relax, not feel so much like I was going to die from sexual starvation, taking deep breaths and trying to relax my quivering inner thighs. Every time I would breathe him in I would feel my legs start trembling and I would moan involuntarily.

I turned away from him and started feeling a little more like myself. He laid up against me and laid his hand on my side. Ripples of heat radiated from where he touched me. I was almost convulsing, my body was aching. I needed him. I had a very hard time communicating that I needed him to not touch me for fear that I would experience spontaneous combustion and char his lovely headboard and most deliciously comfortable bed. He laughed a little and remarked on how terribly horny I was, and I was, and he started kissing me. I think. It was all a blur of hormonal desire and me trying not to ravish him.

He ended up between my legs, licking me into a lather. He is amazing at the oral arts and he makes me come so hard, I can't even express it. Its overwhelming. Then when I couldn't take anymore he came up to face level and kissed me. I have never liked tasting myself but I'm glad to kiss him afterward. The way he tastes seems to go well with it, or something. His kisses are so perfectly compatible with mine. I felt him, hard, between my legs. I suppose he sobered up some. He tenderized my insides, turned me to jelly. I ended up on top at the end and feeling him coming inside me was a beautiful, tender feeling. It was so intense. We laid together and fell asleep. Sleeping so close to him and feeling his breath and presence is like heaven.

Exactly where I'm at

The last few years of my life have been filled with depression and desperation. I wanted out of my marriage so badly, and god knows why I stayed as long as I did. I was young when we met and didn't heed the red flags waving all around me. I was blinded by love, or whatever it was that I was blinded by. I know that when I met my ex-husband that I was hungry for someone who wanted me all to themselves for a change. I wanted to settle down some and have a boyfriend. I didn't want this limbo I had been kept in with the relationship I had before him.

The relationship I left before I got together with my ex was fraught with problems, from the lack of my communication to his lack of commitment. I still love and care for him and we still talk from to time to time and are on good terms. We saw one another back before the new year and had a good afternoon together. He was in town because his band had a break in their touring schedule and we had been meaning to meet up when he had a chance for at least a year. We kissed. The kiss was good but the connection that we had was shot to shit. That is what it took to see that I'm much more over him than I gave myself credit for. I thought he was the closest thing to "the one" that I would find for many years. I used that as a crutch. I can see that now.

Its sad to say that I knew things were over before I even got pregnant with my first son. I knew it, though. I was planning to leave him and move in with my best friend. We had an apartment picked out and everything. I wound up pregnant. Being young and foolish and having had an abortion previously, I didn't want to terminate. Of course I love my sons very much, but in retrospect, motherhood isn't really something that I feel I was cut out for. Other women seem to have this preternatural ability to care for and coddle their children. I just don't experience that well of nurturing. I'm not sure if I'm defective or what, but its just not there.

Once I tried to leave him. A few years ago. He just didn't stay away. It didn't take. After promises to work on things and make them better we reconciled. We had another child. Things were still shitty and he was getting more controlling and more emotionally abusive as time went on. I felt trapped by the children. I couldn't leave the house if he wasn't watching them and with his full time job, his band, his religion, his friends.. There just wasn't time for me.

I hit the brick wall about a year ago. I knew this wasn't for me. I got fed the fuck up with bullshit and excuses and being accused of cheating when there wasn't time in the day nor an opportunity available. I started painting again and spending less time on the internet, less time on message boards (which were a great help and support when I needed them, but I don't feel so much that I need it anymore) and more time out of the house and doing things. He hated it. He was jealous and nervous and accusatory. I was becoming more emotionally divorced from him as time went on. With every email break in, rude look when the phone rang, mean question.. My heart hardened and turned away. I lost all sexual interest in him. I started having a crush on one of my artist friends, I started having dreams. I wanted to look nice. I started taking care of myself again. Despite the increase in number and intensity of the fights with my ex I was feeling good about myself for a change. I did things because I wanted to do them, no other reason. That was completely new.

Now I'm in a place where I'm doing what is best for my kids and I and I'm seeing that what is good for them is going to be what is good for me in the long run. I want to get an education and going to school will provide us all a better future, so that is my next aim. I've got a good job now that makes me happy. They can see me earning money and calling the financial shots, making my own decisions, not having to cook and clean because it was my "job" and being tethered to the house because I happened to be the female counterpart of this thing. These are things that worried me deeply about my marriage to their father. Knowing that this is what they perceived to be normal was nauseating. I don't want my sons to grow up to be sexist assholes. So they see me happy right now, doing what I want. They get to spend time with their dad, they get to spend time with me, and about once a week they get both of us at the same time. I want to be friends with him, I mean, I was married to him for seven years and I do have two kids with him. The person he was when we met isn't the person that is there now. I accept this and understand it a little easier than he does, I think.