Well, if you are reading then you have the password. I’m expecting significantly fewer people to be reading in general now than in days past. Frankly, there is something just so damn comforting about that to me. I might take the password protection off at some point, but, for now it’s just better this way. I can officially go back to spilling it all, instead of censoring. There should be about 20 of you here, so now it’s a more comfortable group. And you are among friends, so feel free to let it fly.
I’ll back up to last Thursday. Sherlock and I have been looking at condos for the past few weeks because his lease is up in January. Since open houses occur on Sundays and I’m no longer able to bake in the sun due to autumn’s arrival, we were doing this as a joint effort. Somewhere in looking for these places, he started asking the questions, “Does this building take 2 dogs” and “Can we purchase a second parking spot because we both have cars and motorcycles.” I’m not saying I didn’t participate in these conversations, but truth be told, I have very low living expenses. Anything I do in terms of moving is going to crank up my monthly expenditures. So I’m not in a hurry. I have a place to live, and it’s a damn good place in my opinion because it’s got Sammy and Thora.
Okay, so Thursday. He just pops out with, “Are you nervous to move in together?” I said “No. Why?” He said that he was. I said “We don’t have to, you can do this on your own, I really don’t care.” There was more back and forth, but nothing significant really. Just chitchat. I ended up booting him out of my house because he was in one of those needy moods, and I can’t fucking stand that. I really can’t. I’m not a needy girl and I don’t want a needy man in my life. I just got annoyed and told him to go home. He wanted to know why he couldn’t stay over, and I said, “Because you snore, and it keeps me up all night.” I am a hurtful bitch when I’m pissed.
Friday was the day I posted the story about the lunatic ex whatever-she-is of his, TravelWhoreGirl. Friday night I went out with you blogging kids, and somewhere during the night Sherlock got pissed, which I found out via phone. Home Improvement Ninja and I were walking to his car and he was going to drop me off on his way back to the Cheights, and Sherlock called. He told me to call him when I was home. Then I got home, and he called me again before I had a chance to call him. I hate that feeling of being railroaded. Give me the fucking chance to get in the house, change, then I’ll call back. So then he started telling me I was inconsiderate for not telling him I was going to stay out all night, and that no matter how our relationship started out, he at least deserves that respect. I’ve got to admit, and Ninja has seen some of the emails where I write a bunch of nasty shit, I’m not very respectful. I’ve somehow given myself license to be a master superbitch because of all this drama he came with. Then it turned into the classic Velvet fight and I shut down. When I get really mad, I just can’t talk.
So he’s even more pissed at this point and I am just mad that he really thought I went out trying to not come home. It doesn’t happen like that. I always go out in the spirit of having “one drink” and that just never happens. My arrival time home is directly correlated to the people I’m with, how tired I am and how I happen to be feeling about staying out and drinking more with logistics of getting home. We were all having so much fun on Friday that I didn’t want to go home. (Well, other than when Virgile Kent told me a certain someone, Fuckbuddy #2, was prying him for information on me. WTF, seriously?) Ninja and I ended up walking down M Street, getting underage kids into bars by plying the bouncers with the Halloween cookies.
When I’m home in bed, Sherlock and I are texting some more. I can’t remember what he said, but it was some version of asking me why I’m being so cold. I responded with, “When you told me you were scared all of a sudden about living together, I took two giant steps backward out of this relationship.” I meant it I suppose. I know I can say really hurtful things, but I was pissed off. He has been the one promoting the move in together / marriage / kids thing. I’m going along, but these ideas came from him. Something I didn’t mention at the time, but happened early on, was that we were having sex one night and he said something to the effect of, “If you ever have bad news for me, tell me when we’re having sex. I couldn’t possibly get mad with my dick inside you.” And I said, “Really? Even if my bad news was like that I was pregnant or something?” To which he reponds, “Why would that be bad news? That would be great news,” thereby rolling the ball into play on the having kids conversations. Ninja loves these stories. They make him laugh his ass off.
Back to this weekend. Saturday comes. He apologizes via text, and I do as well. I go to the gym and return home to a lengthy email from TravelWhoreGirl in response to Friday’s post. A couple parts stand out. First, she says that Sherlock spent the entire day of our first date reading my archives, so “of course there was a click.” Jesus. I hate to say this about a deranged asylum escapee, but she could be right. The other part that gets to me is that she knows some pretty intimate detail about me and the things Sherlock and I have done in bed, and it’s not from the things I’ve written. It’s from things he told her. Her quote: “I have a folder of emails containing pages of things he’s said about you.” (He also by the way, told both the ex-fuck buddies that I’m “on meds.” I can assure you, crazy as I am, I am not on meds.) I forward the email to him then send a text telling him that he should read his email. He texts back and says she’s wrong about some things. I write back and say, “All three of you are lunatics. I wish that I never met any of you.”
Both these girls, despite the fact that they each recently roasted him on their respective blogs, still attempted to contact him just last week. Are you kidding me? Am I in the middle of some ridiculous bullshit contrived drama? He said he didn’t tell me they called because he “didn’t want to upset me.” I said, “One of these girls publicly attacked your GIRLFRIEND ON HER BLOG and you don’t bother to mention that she called? And what the fuck? She’s calling as if all of that never happened? Please!”
There is a recurring issue with Sherlock and I. Every time there is a “problem,” he goes running to his ex-girlfriends and ex-fuckbuddies for advice. I’m so unclear as to how he could really think that these women have his best interests at heart. But just last week, we had an argument over the fact that BOTH FUCK BUDDIES contacted him and he neglected to tell me. A couple days after, we were at his house and his phone rang. He said it was his ex. Then he remarked without any prompting from me that she must be calling to find out if he and I had reconciled. What. The. Fuck. Has he learned fucking nothing from the TravelWhoreGirl saga? Has he not learned that you don’t go running to your exes to ask for advice?
Couple all this with the fact that I’ve now got my boyfriend and two of his past fuck buddies reading my blog. It sucks. There’s no two ways about it. It just sucks. And I’m counting on you all to please please not give the password out to anyone. I’ll leave it the same every time. I probably won’t password protect every post, but definitely the ones that pertain to this situation. Or if I do anything bad. What? Oh come on! Like being faithful has gotten me anywhere with this situation.
I’m afraid, despite the fact that I love Sherlock, that this damage is irreparable. I just don’t trust him. And I don’t think I ever will. Now we’re not speaking, because I’m just not talking anymore. And the part that worries me most? There’s no anger. None. I have zip in the way of anger, I just feel very very tired. And when I feel tired, it’s because the fight in me is gone. I’m afraid there is not going to be a way for us to salvage this relationship. I’ll try to keep my mind open, but it ain’t looking so good.