Notes

This was in my Inbox:

Thank you for paying the mortgage.
Thank you for paying the light bill.
Thank you for paying the water bill.
Thank you for paying my phone bill.
Thank you for loaning me the money so my car can have air conditioning this summer (it's hawt!).
Thank you for being so funny and brightening each day.
Thank you for Daddy Camp.
Thank you for being a caring Dad to C every week.
Thank you for cutting the grass and making the yard look so nice.
Thank you for being a great kisser.

I love you.

Why doesn't this mean anything? You start to realize there is a point where you do too much damage. Thing's cannot be unsaid. Actions cannot be taken back. Silence and void cannot be filled. I should've responded. But I didn't.

If I leave, it is a tear that will never be repaired. If I stay, how is it fair to Mrs to love so hard without return? At what point is it too late for her to be happy?

Fuuck I don't know.

The Good and the Bad

I was (and will before it's over) going to do a post about nothing but positive things. I've been in such a funk it's hard to see anything but negativity.

I'll start with a mixed bag. I had to run my match yesterday. This thing is really starting to drain on me. It's the proverbial ball and chain around my ankle once a month. I can't go out with my friends on Fri afternoon before one. I missed a memorial get together to honor my Manager because of match set up. I really wanted to be there. I missed a big match with Sandy and perhaps sealed our current state because I had to be here to set up for one.

The match yesterday was no different. I was in a funk as soon as I showed up to the range. It went downhill from there. Right off the bat a new kid broke a huge safety rule. I had to boot him from the match before he ever fired a shot.

We run 5 what we call "stages". They are different shooting events. Shooters rotate through each accumulating their score for all. The way we do the schedule is, we break the shooters into groups and send them off to a "stage". This way we have several groups of people shooting all at once on different parts of the match.

A big downside to being in charge is I feel responsible to keep the groups of even number. I also have to ensure each group has an "official" who can referee etc. Invariably, there will be a group without enough expertise etc. I end up jumping in with that one.

Saturday was no different. Except ALL of my friends ran to one group leaving me shooting with the new guys and pains in the ass no one else wanted to shoot with. My funk got even worse.

The irony, I didn't give 2 shits about shooting. I just wanted the day to be over. But, I kicked ass. I mean REALLY kicked ass. I threw down a smackdown I haven't had in a while. So what does this mean to me that I shoot my best match completely depressed? Talk about negative reinforcement.

Ok so on to the all positive now that I got that out.

1st, I kicked ass yesterday. It wasn't a little bit of kicking ass either. It was completely dominating. I won 4 out of 5 events in my division. I took 2nd on 1 just by 1 point out of 100. This is based on "division". Think of divisions like different kinds of cars in drag racing. You've got street cars, dragsters, top fuel, funny car. My division is like a dragster. But I won one of the events outright. Beating even the funny cars of the sport.

My daughter is getting so big and so smart. She got an opportunity to move to a school for gifted and talented. It was the number 1 magnet elementary school in the country for a while. The waters were very fast and her teacher was a hard ass bitch. She made honor roll all 4 quarters. Including the first quarter when she transitioned mid quarter from her old school. She took the top score in reading on standardized testing in the entire school.

Poor thing is hitting her awkward phase. She's getting it all at once. Period. Pimples. Boobs (boy is she getting them too). Glasses. Feet. But she has such a great attitude. She could care less about all of the things most girls are horrified about.

She will get her braces off in 2 years. Hopefully we will have the hormones settling down somewhat. I can see that stunning beauty she will be when she sheds it all.

There's my job. I got a bonus. My reviews have been stellar so far. I'm the lead on the biggest project we've had in 20 years. I go to Wisconsin tomorrow for the last piece of training (anyone want to get together?? eh worth a try). Once certified I could easily get a job making well over 6 figures.

Lastly, I'm in the best shape I've been in in years. I'm dropping weight without even trying. At the last match, the heat was absolutely oppressive. Where other's were falling out, I was the fucking energizer bunny. And it paid off.

That's all for now. Feel like I just did a fucking Stuart Smalley bit.

New Lie

Recently I can't stand the thought of Mrs touch. Not that she's physically repulsive. Quite the opposite. It's not that her personality is repugnant. It's the thought that she wants my intimacy. Something I just can't muster for her right now.

While I'm currently helpless to my addiction to the thought (clearly not reality) of being with Sandy. I recognize how destructive our relationship is. Acknowledgement is only one of the first of many steps. And frankly, my heart hasn't been broken enough to move on to other steps just yet. Also, I've made a deal with the devil, I need her for purely platonic reasons. Like it or not, she's in my life for at least another 10 months.

It is well documented in this blog I haven't felt the same passionate love towards Mrs she feels towards me. I've tried for all of the years I've been blogging to fill that void with playmates. Anything to feel something other than monotony. But always, I have been able to at least give her physical intimacy if not emotional. Why now, after all this time, am I repulsed by the thought of her touch?

Der.. clearly Sandy. I'm not willing to recognize her as the direct cause. But more of catalyst. Let's face it. I've been hunting pretty hard all these years for something.. anything. What happens if a play partner becomes more serious? If Sandy weren't in the picture at all, would it be possible I would one day sit in the same spot I'm in now. Feeling like I just can't take another minute. I can honestly answer yes to that question. Perhaps it's part of my anger issues. The helpless feeling I'm in a life I don't want. Perhaps even feeling guilt for wanting a different life I don't deserve.

Tuesday night we spent the evening in separate rooms. I washed the nasty clothes from the weekend at the match, cleaned house for the 4th, watched a little tv etc. Around 11pm I started watching a movie on my Macbook. Mrs came to bed. I noticed she had on one of her fuck me teddies. I continued to watch the movie as she climbed in bed. She rolled over and rested her head on my shoulder.

It wasn't like I didn't feel anything at all. I felt disgust. Physically turned off by her touch. I tried to hide my body language. I guess I was somewhat successful because she stayed.

The movie had a fair amount of sexual content. There were a couple of scenes bordering on pornographic (hell yeah btw). Mrs was watching right along. I had earphone in so she couldn't hear the context of the scene. At some point I realized, without the audio, she would be watching extremely erotic images. NOT something I wanted. I yawned loudly, put the laptop up, and rolled over to go to sleep.

She wrapped herself around me. I was facing away. She pulled me towards her. I just couldn't do it. I wrapped my arms around her, buried my head low against her chest and tried to lay still.

After a few minutes, she rolled over and turned the light off. I was so relieved.

Then, she jumped out of bed, turned the light on and demanded "What the fuck is going on??? Why won't you have sex with me anymore? Am I fat? Am I too old? What is wrong with me???" She started crying.

"Nothing! I'm just really fucking tired" was all I could come up with. It's so cliche but it really IS me. Not her. But there's no way in hell she would ever believe that.

She continued "You haven't had sex with me in weeks. Why???" Again I responded "I've just been so fucking tired lately. So much on my mind. Work. Shooting. I just don't have the energy".

She wouldn't let it go. Finally, she climbed in bed.

At this point I was overwhelmed with guilt. And I committed the ultimate lie. I fucked her. In my mind it was to put aside her fears. But in reality, I know it was to try to ease my own guilt.

Years ago, when I my first wife and I were separated, we ended up in bed together. We separated for a few months. At first we didn't see each other at all other than to deal with mail or payments. But after a few months we decided the right thing to do was to get together and maybe try to work it out. We went on a few dates. The nights always ended awkwardly. A kiss. Maybe more. But it was mechanical. Void of emotion. One night, we kissed, then more. She asked if I wanted to spend the night. I said yes. We went to bed. We went through the motions of sex. It was the most awkward thing I've ever done. After, I felt dirty. Like it was only consensual in that it was what we were supposed to do, not what we wanted to do. That was the last time we had sex. And the last date we had.

Sex with Mrs felt just as mechanical. Purely physical. Void of emotion or desire. I don't know if she felt it too.

In my heart, I know this is between me and Mrs. I know if I were to divorce Mrs tomorrow, Sandy would not be there. But I feel like I'm at a breaking point. But what if this is all a big mistake? What if I leave and realize I can't live without her. My judgement and feelings were clouded by irrelevant bullshit. There are some things you just can't take back. Based on my experience. Separation is one of those. Especially considering how insecure Mrs is. Any time I left town for business, or shooting, or fishing with my Dad I know she would question whether I would come back.

Gah this is all self-serving bullshit. I'm just spouting out of my ass. I don't know. Closing comments.

Yeah not so much.

When I last posted, Sandy and I kind of wiped the line in the sand away.

She was preparing to go to a big match. I really wanted to go but had a conflict and couldn't. There were tons of things she needed to do to get her gear together. I was helping her almost every night. Almost every night we would drink and get things would get flirty.

One particular night, it didn't take very long to do whatever it was she needed. She offered me a drink. I declined. She made me one any way. Then she started drinking from a flask. She would slam one back. Then hand it to me. I said "Hang on.. before we get drunk I want to do something". I leaned over and started to kiss her. She froze. Face to face, mouths almost touching, I asked "Why do you have to get drunk before you'll kiss me?" Then she kissed me.

The conversation went from there. She would slam back something. I kept trying to refuse. She would stick the flask in my hand anyway. Same old conversation. I'm attracted but.. I just want to have fun... You can't handle just having fun. Finally I said, do you want to have fun? Let's go right now.

She asked "Do you have condom?". In my truck I replied. I went to get it. When I got back in the house, I took her hand and led her to her bedroom. She said "This is going to complicate things". I said "They've been complicated in case you haven't noticed". I started taking her clothes off.

At first she hesitated. Then she let me peel her dress off. I took my shirt off. Then my pants. I unsnapped her bra and pulled it of. Gently, I pushed her back to the bed. My mouth went to hers. She seemed very nervous. I drifted my mouth along her neck, to her nipples. She tensed. I kissed and played for a few minutes. Then I started down. When I reached her panties I peeled them off. Again, at first she seemed reluctant. I said "I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to". Then she relaxed and let me peel them off.

I started kissing her thighs moving closer and closer. She put her hands down and pulled my face to her. As I started up, she put her knees together so I was basically blocked. Again I said "I'm not going to do anything you don't want". She parted her thighs and I moved to her.

I still had my underwear on. I kissed her. Her thighs were clamped firmly to my hips. I asked "Are you ok?". She didn't answer. I looked at her and said "Do you want this?". She said "I am overwhelmed with guilt".

And I stopped.

Since then I have no clue what the hell is going on. Sometimes she's business like and it's like nothing ever happened. Then one night she agreed to go to dinner. We had a few drinks. Then it was like we were an old couple out on a date. Wonderful.

Over the weekend we travelled to a match together. I booked a room a long time ago, back when she was barely talking to me. I didn't think she was going. The hotel only had a king bed available. Later, when she decided to go I told her what I had. We were still planning to be in the room together.

We checked into the hotel. Did the match stuff. Went to dinner and had a couple of drinks. Got back to the room. She went in the bathroom and changed into yoga pants and a t-shirt. I changed into a pair of shorts. When I climbed into bed, she turned the light off and scooted as far across the bed as possible turning her back to me.

The rest of the weekend was more of the same. At the match, we hung out with all of the usuals. Or rather, she did. IF I happened to see where she went then I could catch up and hang out.

A couple of things were going on. First, there is another shooter there who is a world class competitor. He's older. Married. Several times he sat down next to her and they talked. Her hand would go to his leg. His arm. I was sitting right there thinking WTF.

THEN... and this is the huge one... THEN... he gets on the phone. Our sport is a very small sport. But with recent shows on TV about shooting we've attracted a few celebrities. There is a very famous Country star, think SEVERAL top 10 hits. Taken a CMA or 2. He was on the other end of the phone.

The guys looks at Sandy and said "He wants to talk to you".

Fucker asked her to be his date on the 4th. What... The... Fuck... How the hell do you possibly compete with that. I mean seriously.

She said at first she wasn't going. Then she said it would depend on if she could get a flight. Which to me means she's going on a fucking date with a Country star.

There's more.. I probably really fucked things up last night. We didn't get back from the match until around 3:30am. Around 2am we got into it in the car. Like she unloaded on me a while back. I unloaded on her. So yeah I've got that going for me. Uncorked on her... AND she's probably going out with a Country star... FUCKING STAR...