Had a nice weekend, starting with taking my strange father to the movies.
He seemed to enjoy that.
Next day, some clean up on the section (tornado damage) followed by a trip over the hill to have lunch with one of my oldest besties, eldest daughter and her flatmate.
Off to BG’s beach. Things were crazy busy over there, so I jumped behind the restaurant bar Friday and Saturday nights for a couple of shifts, with the boss man on the carvery.
What a team. Lol.
Actually, I quite enjoyed it. Super busy, but everyone in good spirits. He has a great, positive team, and I worked that bar with another woman who was grateful for the help. After all, we fed over 450 people in just a few hours. The bars were flat out keeping up.
Friends from my home town showed up as I finished, and the man whisked me onto the dance floor, funny.
BG is always blown away by me just just jumping in to help.
I put a lamb roast on before work Saturday, so ensured we had loads of greens and something hearty after we finished up, and didn’t just eat crap. He was grateful.
Anyway, a quieter Sunday, we took an elderly member of his club to the nearby town to catch a bus to his son’s, and we went and had a drink there, came home and went for a brisk beach walk. A stop on the way home for a glass of wine at a brew bar, and I was committed to staying Sunday night.
Home early this morning to move heifers and feed out.
Home to see the tornado damage progress. The arborists arrived and made a great start.
I have the Monday blues a bit.
It’s okay. I am used to this life.
We have so, so much good. So much fun. So much enjoyment of being together.
But, no sex for six weeks, then he tried Sunday morning.
We didn’t get far. That was a first for us. To start, and not “finish.” Hey, it’s never about the destination. More the journey. No problem for me.
But he beats himself up.
Frustrated. Annoyed at himself.
But unable to really talk about it. Which I find really challenging.
I’m kind of in this zone. Where I am not concerned. It’s a very strange thing. I LOVE sex. But I’m not giving up this nice, kind, gentle, sweet man because the sex is less than I would like it to be.
Surely we can make that better. But, even if we can’t, is it a deal breaker?
I don’t think so.
But it is very weird. I had fantastic chemistry with Rog.
And he fucked me right up. So….
Anyway, whatever. I just like being with BG. He worries. That I will leave him. That it won’t be “enough.”
And he seems to genuinely like being intimate, sharing life with me. Just sent me this cute message.
Sex. How very odd. I really never anticipated this. Have never had to deal with this before. Having a much, much higher libido, and realising he just struggles with knowing his is not keeping me … ugh.
I do sometimes ask that.
Why did this happen?
Why did Roger fuck it all up, we were so good.
I watched a couple I follow on Instagram. A seemingly real couple, with kids, a sense of humour, no apparent fakery, and the way he talked about them.
Us. Forever. That simple.
I felt my heart tear apart. That was me…
I wonder if Trinket is so very much more than me. That they are having a wild old time in the sack – if they’re even together anymore. Who even knows? I used to think no one would ever be like we were, that we had something super special. That I would die, KNOWING Rog. Knowing he was mine. Knowing about his life.
He’s a total stranger now.
And just typing that makes me ache all over.
He didn’t ever feel that way about me.
He just swaps out one warm, willing body for the next. If not Trinket, the next victim, I guess.
But, I try not to think about them too much. It does no good.
He just didn’t realise how much I loved him, how truly heartbroken I would be.
Or rather, he just didn’t care.
But tonight, I miss him. The dead him. So, I’m going to whisper into the darkness, where no one else can hear me, or judge me for it, “goodnight my snooky bear. I will love you forever.”