• Today was a long day. Meeting at 9 till 11. I was ready for bed. I feel like IM dragging around a dead body. My phone rang off the hook today. I had one caller not answer. All I heard was static. My mind immediatley thinks "is it him". David...would NEVER do that. I asked once...and he jumped all over me for it. I admit. I do call him..but I never let it ring threw now. I know he never answers the phone. He has to have call display...and see 416 and say "fuck that" Theres sign number 1 right there, mental note to self. But it threw me threw a loop. Let me tell you, I was a wreck before. I was a bigger wreck after. Is he enjoying me stress out? Im waiting for an answer. Ive asked polietly if I can come out and fly and see him on the 16th. Ive asked polietly before. Always...I got a "no". But...BUT...then I got an email of a round about way of him saying "you should have ignored that and just come...or didnt you think I wouldnt want you to challange that?" So basically his no..was a yes...but he never said it. I would have been WELCOMED then. Then being the operative word. Im not dumb. This wine Im drinking tonight, has me seeing clearly. Im waiting for a no. Why not just email me with a yes or a no. Why take so long? Jurys come back after long delerberations...and they are almost coming back with a "no". Does he enjoy my suffering? He might be over there in AZ smiling and saying to himself "let her sweat it out a little" "let her suffer". OR..he just wont answer me. So, I will fly down on the 17th and he wont be there. Watch him book a flight to see his brother. Ive thought of that. Me sitting in his lobby..and no one home. ALL WEEKEND. Wouldnt that be my luck? Or...its a no. I cant even think...of what a no will do to me. Not that it matters to him. his last email, was the most COLD and impersonal Ive ever seen in 3 years. I senced his pain. I picked up on the indifference. I picked up on the "no feelings". that is why Im telling myself daily "dont get your hopes up...hes emailing you with a big email (or small) with a "NO ITS TOO LATE". Dad. David. DH. MONSTER. I dont know...I cant take this. I should ask for sick leave. A note A simple note...and Im off for months. Ive never seen storms life this in my life before. I thought I did. I thought Id "seen it all". What a fool was I. Im worried sick about dad. Im going on Sunday, to convince him to get that blood work, and xray that the doctor wants him to get. Of course dad is like "im fine...its just a bit of blood..I probobly have a cold". well...its my duty on Sunday, to talk sence into him. Now I know where I got my attitude about hospitals and doctors. He was the only one, who supported and understood why I wanted to leave the hospital with my liver. Why? Im like HIM. Im truley my fathers daughter. He raised me so british. "so your british" "up the duff" "bloody nora" and "get knotted" is all ive heard. Dont show your feelings. NEver ask for help. Keep a stiff upper lip. Well...I appreciate all that dad. Its done me no good. None at all. All my men relationships...are totally fucked up. I feel nothing, until it sinks in a day later. I want to cry...but I dont allow myself too. (not until latley) I never ask a man for help..god forbid for his HAND in help. It wasnt until David...that I looked at all my upbringings...these handed down "traits" and questioned them. what a crock of shit the most of them. You know..I havent always been heavy. Nope, I was a thin..size 10 or 12 when I was 16. I wasnt "thin" but I was curvy. I was a dish..let me tell ya. then...my first bad encounter. Then another. then another. I wasnt allowed to show my feelings. I was told to grow a "thick skin". Show my british. Dont ask for help. so...what did I do? I turned to food. Comfort. I wasnt always a fat woman. A bbw..what ever. I wasnt always "this". All "this" is baggage. He hurt me...I ate. She hurt me...I ate. God forbid I did something about it. Faced it. Vocalized it. Nope. I ate it down. I listened to music...and lost myself in it. Music was my therapy. Clubs where my second home. I was at home. I knew every song. I knew how to move. God...could I fucking dance. I mean..."tear up the dance floor" was under my name. the girls and I had routines. The other girls in the CLUB looked to US..for new moves (which we bit off videos and dance studios..I went to a dance art school) We were the envy of the women..and their boyfriends wanted to date us. We were the "cool" bitches. But, we were freindly. One issue. Me. I was the nicest one of the pack. I always was the softer spoken..and went there only for the bass. the music. The other girls were into the men. The men...tons of them. It was like shooting fish in a kettle. But not me. I wasnt interested in them...If I wanted one..I just backed up. He was there. I didnt know his face or his name..but I felt him. His hands were occationally on my hips..trying to keep up with my swaggar. I offed him. I always offed him. If the mood hit me, and the booze was in my head..Id back up. If he was ugly..Id simply side step to another man to the front. I only met one man, who was able to keep up "to me". Matt. I finally met my match. 7 years him and I were. Inseperable. I was his shadow...as much as I was him. He was soft spoken..insain with intelligence, had a great job, well dressed..and did a colgate commercial. yes..he had the whitest and best teeth Id ever seen. He did 2 commercials for teeth. Colegate, and one picture for "nappys" hair cut. He had a nice head of hair. We loved the same music. House music. Hip Hop, and reggea and soca and dancehall. We loved dancing. We loved the same foods. But..he had another side to him. He had a wicked temper. He never hit me...but I locked myself in his bathroom once, while he banged on the door screaming "why did you look at him" WHO? who the fuck was he talking about? Yes..he was as jealous as a motherfucker. Hed start fights with men who even just GLANCED my way. I began hating men looking at me. I knew I was going to get "it" from him...because they looked. somehow I was "guilty". I began beliving this was how every relationship was. All the girls told me how "lucky" I was. He was so handsome and "hot" blah blah blah....well, no..I wasnt lucky. He had an ugly side. He could go to the strip bars and touch women..and NOT tell me (I always found out) but, I wasnt allowed to get mad about it. He could take off to Buffalo and go to a club with the boys...and I wasnt entitled to know about it. No..it was a double stardard relationship. He could give girls sticks of gum..and chat them up, while I tried on jeans. NO..I wasnt to get jealous. I wasnt to get angry. 7 years of that bullshit.7 years of that shit. I left him...6 years in. Id had enough. He turned around and bought me a ring. I was estatic. Perhaps he would change. what a fool was I? He didnt change. He got worse. Then he became a toronto cop. I didnt sleep for weeks. I couldnt be married to a cop.never. So, I handed him back the ring. It was the hardest thing I ever did. I knew however, if he hit me...I couldnt report it. He was the "police". He as the authorities. I couldnt live in fear. I couldnt continue not saying what I felt, or cry ect. I left him. I was a wreck for 2 years after. I gained over 80 pounds from that relationship. I ate. I ate some more...every fear, anger, resentment, and upset...I turned to the fridge. I was later told years later threw a fellow officer where I work..that he was equally fucked up. He fucked anything that walked..and partied all his money away. Apparentley he would get drunk and say to his buddies "these bitches are not her...these bitches arent even close to her..I had the best, and pissed it away". Well, fuck me. I was angry at that. Then he got married. Married a woman, from Montreal. I was shown her picture. I stared at her. She was me. She looked like me..but smaller. (before I gained the weight) He divorced her. It never lasted. I felt more bad for her, than him. She never stood a chance..and she didnt even know it. He contacted me threw facebook. We talked about our lives, and some of the past. He wanted to see a picture. No...I wasnt going to do that. He wanted to "catch up at a coffee shop". No...I wasnt going to do that either. I couldnt walk back into that life. I walked away.. I told him goodbye, wished him well and blocked him from my facebook account. Maybe thats what David is doing with me. WAlking away...not wanting to go back. So what goes around...really does COME AROUND. Im getting mine. Oh yeah Let me tell you David. Hes my nemisis. Hes my full circle. Men. I dont get em. I never have. I never will. I think one thing...and BAM! David..would throw me threw a loop. He wasnt that way at all. I cant tell you how many times, that man has FLOORED me, and stopped me dead in my tracks. He would do or say something..so unlike..what I believe "men" would or should be. why? because Ive dated and encountered assholes my entire life. David..wasnt one of those men. He was / is different. ( i still believe that..as mad as I get some days with him) Hes sensative. Hes overly sensative. I dont know how to take that. I stand stunned. I dont know how to react. So, I cry. I eat. How do I feel about what he just did? If I dont "get it" I get angry. The easiest of feelings to protray. Slash out. Get angry...because its something I dont understand. Im a failure. total failure. Ive failed in every single relationship. theres something for me to be proud of. Men. huh. How is it he could LAUGH? The man who took full advantage. The man who took what wasnt his. He sat there, and laughed out loud. Laughed like he was at yuk yuks. I was crying..he was laughing. What was so FUCKING funny? Id like to get him alone in a room..sober and have my own laughing session. Revenge. Its not christian like. I know. But, neither is what happened to me. That animal is a demon. Id like to ask him "what the FUCK was so funny you prick?" Im so angry and scard of this demon. No he is not human..hes a demon. Look it up people, they exsist. Id like to hurt him, like he hurt me. How is it..it was possible to laugh? He was BLEEDING. Didnt he feel that? He laughed. I have nightmares of seeing him. I have that date coming up...and all I can picture is my walking in the room...and him LAUGHING again at me. I think id jump him right there and then..fists flying. Im so fucking nervous. Will I say the right things? Will I clam up..and sit there and cry? Maybe the lord will grant my wish...let me get hit by a bus..so I dont have to face him again. I dont have the strenght. I just dont. Im so weak. I need dad. I need NEED David. But..they are not prepared or able to support me. Not now. Dad has his own issues...David..well, I dont know. Hes sick of me. Hes got to be sick of me. He isnt writting me. thats a bad sign. A really bad sign. I know it. Hes pulled away. Hes healing. Oh god "healing". why can such a positive word...bring me such misery? Im still an open wound..blood bleeding out on the floor over him...and hes "healing". Im a failure. He has to be distracted. There has to be something. Something eating up all this time. His energy. I cant think of him with another woman. Fuck me,Ill slit my own wrists..to think of him giving it to her, like he gave it to me. Damn HER, he was MINE. He was to be MY HUSBAND. He was the "ONE" in my life. I WANTED to marry him. Not other man. NO OTHER man came close to him. Ive had offers. But nope, I never bit. Not until him. BUT he was the ONE. fuck her. I hate her. I dont even know her...but she has his attention. I hate her already. I hate the way, she talks all "sweet" up on him. I hate the way she says shit..that makes him SMILE. That smile...his SMILE was mine. It was the Smile, I loved. It was his eyes, I fell in love with. I hate the photos he sees of her. I hate her hips and her booty. I hate her swaggar. I hate her oozing of sex. I hate that she has his attention. I hate that he is dedicated to her. You wonder why I drink? Do you have to ask? Failure number 1. Failure in so many fucking areas. Ive lost the man of my life..and he isnt COMING BACK. Damn it. Talk about my fuck up of the century. I have a list of reasons to want to feel nothing. I feel to DAMN much. Sorry dad..Im not british. Im canadian..and I feel. I feel way to damn much. The girls emailed me...Saturday night @ the century Room. There is a pack of them. there is saftey in numbers isnt there? I used to feel so secure in my "pack" I never felt threatened. Its different now. Add on 200 pounds to my frame, and wanting to die...and Im a zombie. I push threw MY days David. Like you..your not alone in this. I have to raise a little girl. Deal with a DH. High stress job. What am I to do now? What? walk? Go for coffee. Oh god...sure, I have done that. take courses...ive done that. Im signed up for more. Go to school. Signed up. talk about it? done that, got the next appointment. Vacation? Ive put 3,500 klms on my truck. Its not helping. Nothing is helping. Nothing is helping me. Im exhuasted. Im desprete.Im lonley. I feel so useless. I feel so hopeless. I feel angry. Im pissed off. Why dont you believe me, when I say its "going to be different". its not like I hit you or something. Damn. I never laid a finger on you. Im not violent. Ive never been violent. Nope..just violated. Ive got the fucking tshirt for that one. the devil is temping me. God damn...the bible says..he knows our "weaknessness" and uses it against us. I dont want to go. But something inside, wants to go beside the biggest speaker in that room...and close my eyes and feel its beat. I feel so damn dead inside. Im a zombie. Im a woman, who is filled with bitterness, and sadness, and anger...and all I want is to forget. If only for a few hours. Let me close my eyes..and forget. Let me focus on music. Only music. Some men have trains. They do model trains. They are in a whole different world. Some men play pool, some men make music...but they escape. thats the point. I dont have an escape. I dont know anything...besides dancing. Besides a speaker and a dance floor. Its all ive known. Its not something I would do married. God NO. GOD NO. But, when Im left alone...I dont want to backslide off the wagon. Yes..thats another topic. I dont want to do something to "fill in the time". So, I dance. is that so wrong? Is dancing so wrong? It can be...Ive learned my lesson. Go there, shut up and say 'fuck off" to anyone who approaches you. Lesson learned. But sometimes, its the release of pent up energy that is needed. Its the crying onthe dance floor. Its the artificial heart beat. I suppose some just dont understand me. I suppose they never will. I suppose music and dancing doesnt do that "for them". Its all Ive ever known. I was 14 and I started dancing. I found refuge on that floor. Now ...years later,. im finding refuge in a bottle. THe damn bottle will kill me. Its going to kill me. Today..I had an italian client..bring me a bottle of rose wine. I mean...TELL ME THE DEVIL doesnt know your weakness's? He walks in out of the blue and says "you help me and my wife out so much all the time...here is a bottle of our homemade wine". Rose too.I LOVE rose. Its better than white, and so much better than harsh red. That bottle is sitting on my counter...calling to my heart. Its calling me to open it up...and feel "no more pain". Im already hammered now. No...I have to work tommorow. I cant go in with blood shot eyes. I cant go in chewing gum in the morning. No..I will not become an alcholic. Id rather eat. So..I made rice krispie squares. I ate 3 pieces, while I drank. "Now that I have loved so purely and deeply, I have realized how lonely I really am." Addicted currently too: So we back in the club Get that bodies rockin from side to side (si-side to side) Thank God the week is done,I feel like a zombi gone back to life (ba-back to life) Hands-up,and suddenly we all got our hands-up No control of my body Ain't i seen u before? I think I remember those eyes,eyes,eyes,eyes,e-e gonna set the roof on fire,gonna burn this mother fucker down down down down d-down down Hands up when the music drops,we both put our hands up

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