Even when you’re not exactly in the same circumstances as I am with my boyfriend right now — relationships seem to take a lot of fucking work and patience no matter the weather. 

So here’s what you do with a problem in a relationship: End it or endure it. Those are your only choices.

I delivered my message .. not as harshly as my first impulse dictated .. and that was more of a problem in and of itself. I keep forgetting that not everyone has the thick skin that I do: I evolve by disassembling my cognitive processes. Having others point things out from their perspective. Teach me a greater truth and I will abandon what I once believed in error. I’m blunt. I prefer bluntness from others. Just how I am.

Ex: Saying things like “Can you explain to me, what fucking with your screen resolution has to do with getting ready?” may be a valid criticism of his procrastination. I am generally patient but 1-2 hours is taxing for someone who can be ready to go in 30 seconds. I’d like to have him come with me on trips and whatever, but I might need to make it clearer that I need to be on the road at a specific time or go alone.

Its true that I’m usually okay with what he does. It’s not fair for him to give me attitude about fidelity in this situation.

I picked the harsh delivery. He’s really awesome, I do want this to work, and I realized that I wasnt giving any indication of that at all… just firing off all these terse criticisms picking his reasoning to shreds.

I quickly regretted it and said I was sorry. After that we’ve talked more openly about more things .. in the last few days alone .. than in the entire time we’ve known eachother. Is it really this easy? I’d be surprised.

The last time he went out on a call, it was a setup. He was tricked out of money by a “friend”. He came back without a dollar to his name and he seemed very.. emotionally distraught by the experience. I don’t know what happened with the client. I don’t want details beyond that even in a good situation. I get this feeling like I’m going to throw up. Yes, its jealousy. It’s as fair as I know how to be with my jealousy.

Now when it came to my ex telling stories about his exploits, I’d get turned on. We’d talk about scenarios (which we never acted out) and the plain truth about my double standard is that I knew where things stood with my ex, he was my boyfriend, and he came home every night after he’d had his fun. I trusted all of this.

I don’t have that confidence or trust with this one yet. I’m still scared of losing him or .. I don’t know. That’s really the only thing thats different in the two situations.

In the car, he pointed out that sometimes I’m ok with it and sometimes I’m not. He’s one of the few people who knows I did the same thing when I was in my early twenties. But immediately after whatever happened .. is a really bad time to ask me for my approval. I’m crawling with doubt and concern.

He feels pressured to quit doing it to make me happy. . 

The phone rang and he asked me what to do. I said if you want to do it, do it. If you don’t want to do it, then don’t do it. 

It’s way too early for the “L” word. We have so many little things like this to sort out and maybe we’ll actually work through them all enough for it to grow. 

Love isn’t something that can be threatened by jealousy, insecurity, and the very predictable situations that arise when two people either assume (or explicitly negotiate) that they’re working under mutual agreements and expectations for one another (and someone breaks their end of the “deal”). Monogamy isn’t something that you enforce with a bunch of drama, suspicion, mistrust, and fear. If you both want to do it, wonderful. If one or both of you don’t want to, then say as much. 

But I tell you what. It’d be nice if the love I had to give, and the love that was offered to me, was one where I kept my promises — or at least had enough integrity to not make any that I did not intend to keep. It’d be nice if I didn’t want anyone else and neither did he. 

My boyfriend’s an escort. I’m okay with that.

The last guy I dated was a vapid cum dumpster who had a lot of sex with a lot of guys behind my back — for free! The truth all came out in the end, and I had to go in for a series of shots to avail myself of the multiple  STDs he brought home to me (all of them curable thank god)… But oh hell, this might be morally bankrupt of me … but I guess if we had $200 for every load that got popped off in him … I’d have stuck around like Anna Nicole and got myself a damn mercedes by now.

So whatever. I’m a little jealous every time I hear him on the phone negotiating with a client, I can’t deny it. And I’m worried when he’s out there. But this is what we’ve agreed upon. Supposedly its an open relationship, though I haven’t fucked anyone else….. He insisted on the terms and swears its okay with him. I’m fine either way. I don’t stray in a relationship, but for fucks sake, just be honest with me.

I’ve been toying with the idea of hooking up with someone else. I don’t know if this is a good idea. I kind of want to even the score, at least once, just so I don’t have this gnawing feeling that I’ve been faithful to him while he’s out fucking other people regardless of the motivation for doing so. That and he won’t let me fuck him because he says my you-know-what is too you-know-what .. Thats fine, I go either way, but I’m suffering from a pent-up fuck I havent been able to give anyone since February. I just need to find some stupid insatiable twink to take it out on for a night.

And so.. one of my online profiles has always indicated that I’m “not looking” for a hookup. I changed to say I am looking … yeah well, the boyfriend noticed and had a proper fit. He said “have fun” and he wouldnt talk to me for the rest of the night. The next day he laid it on and said hes sorry he can’t satisfy me.

I never did find anyone who seemed interesting enough to go through the trouble.

And I’m just dying to say it! Oh come ON! you’re a fucking prostitute!@*!@+!(*&@#T^*!&@# I deal with my jealousy in the highest possible way I know how … I never throw it in his face. And even now, I refuse to take a cheap shot and go there. He said he wanted an open relationship and he’d be cool with whatever I did … but its looking more like “open relationship” means he fucks other people but doesn’t want me to.

I’m not naive. I know this isn’t healthy. I’ve volunteered for a domestic violence center and I’ve heard this (and so many other things) echoed over and over again right out of the textbook.

I didn’t want to hang out yesterday. I was pissed off at him. I sent him a very blunt text message and he replied that I was “projecting”.

I told him I know he’s thrilled that some crackhead taught him a psychology buzzword, and I already knew he gets excited every time he gets to use it — but.. pedantic rant number one: Projection should not be confused with transparency.

So uh, I’d said he was being unfair for being pissed about me cruising (the site). Pedantic rant number two, is that there is absolutely nothing projected here.

Furthermore, pedantic rant number three — projection is, by definition, an unconscious mechanism. I don’t think it’s technically possible to unconsciously project if you truly understand the underlying thought processes involved here. 

I adore this kid, but he’s got a lot of work cut out for him. 

Holidays with my family are confusing. I was raised a Jehovah’s Witness and we didn’t celebrate anything except for the Memorial on Nisan 14. Everyone would solemnly pass around some crackers and some grape juice at the bible service — but you weren’t allowed to eat or drink either unless you were one of those 144,000 “annointed” people they said were going to heaven. 

Observing any other holiday, regardless of its origin, was tantamount to worshipping Satan as far as we were taught. Nor did we celebrate our birthdays. 

As an adult, I’m not gullible enough to have remained a Witness. I’m not clouded by any of the things they tried to instill in me. Now I make some token efforts to observe holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries. But it’s not ingrained in me whatsoever so it takes effort on my part. I easily forget about them. I pick the worst gifts. There have been several years now where I didn’t even realize my *own* birthday had passed until a day or two after the fact. 

On the flip side, I learned that it was more valuable to give someone a gift .. or a card .. or flowers .. spontaneously (on no particular day) just for the sake of doing so.  Um, just as long as that day wasn’t (God Forbid) February 14th or December 25th?

I can never pinpoint exactly when Thanksgiving, Mothers Day, or Fathers Day is. I don’t watch television or read the papers so I don’t get blitzed with relentless marketing propaganda imploring me to go buy some crap from Sears and Target for _____ day a solid week or two beforehand.

Mom would get angry if you sent her flowers for mothers day, valentines day, or her birthday. But I’m pretty creative and I came up with a happy compromise: I’d call her on a day like today and I’d say “Happy Saturday mom.”

She’d say “Happy Saturday to you too, son.”

And that was okay with her. 

Well, she’s been disfellowshipped for about 6 years now. There’s no discernable logic involved with the teachings she’s retained and the one’s she’s discarded. For example, if I’m recalling correctly the Witnesses have an issue with fornication and lesbianism, and she’s been batting for both teams these days. I’ve seen her smoking a joint, and that’s a no-no for Witnesses too.

But if you suggest celebrating a holiday? She’s shocked and appalled.

(Now I’m not putting her down for any of that, oh no. I lost count of how many people I fucked years ago, and if you licked me you’d probably be high for the next five days.)

Well this year, I honestly didn’t know what day is considered Mothers Day. I never do. My boyfriend said “oh shit!” when he realized it sometime in the afternoon. Now I’m not calling my mom high, thats a serious buzzkill. And oh what the hell, she’s so vehemently against holidays anyway, so she says. I’ve never tested the theory before ..

Wrong. She called my sister to cry that no one called her for Mothers Day, so no one loves her.

I’m so proud of my sister, because she’s transformed from a punching-bag of a redneck Tennessee wife to someone who’s going to call you out on your bullshit. In other words, she’s had children.

She crossly said “Look, mother. Are you a Jehovah’s Witness? Or not? Do you celebrate the holidays? Or not? Because if you do, I will send you cards and call you for every holiday .. Martin Luther, Christmas, Kwanzaa, Easter, Secretary’s Day, I don’t care. But if you don’t, then I don’t want to hear it.”

Mom hemmed and hawwed and finally said “No. I don’t celebrate them.”

Our relationships are such a strained and elaborate dance sometimes.

I didn’t go to work one day, like maybe a month ago? Oh shit, maybe two months now. I didn’t feel like going in. So I didn’t. Then I got high. I haven’t been back to work since then. Fuck, I don’t care. I can pay my rent for the next year. Working’s ignorant.

My now former employer panicked and this set off a domino effect with the people listed in my emergency contact section. I always protest that I don’t really have an emergency contact, no one’s going to pay for the funeral anyway. But if they insist on a name and number I’ll list mom.

Now everyone seems to have called everyone else to ask if I was okay, with the drama and panic escalating with each conversation.

Everyone has my phone number. No one called me. Two days later, guess how I catch wind of this? My ex boyfriend. Who’d been contacted by a former employer of mine. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Mom is sure something bad has happened: “He hasn’t updated his blog since the 20th!”

Oh god. Has my life become so pathetic now that if I die alone in my apartment, no one will know for at least 9 or 10 days, and only because I haven’t updated my blog?

I had to call my sister: Would you call mom and tell her to take her fucking medication? I’m not even touching this drama.

I sure updated the blog after that. I had some “fuck yous” to leave up for a week before I deleted the site.

I’ve been disowned for the foreseeable future and now I’m in exile on WordPress … yippee!

Couple incidents related to that over the last two years, but I had to draw the line when my mother answered the phone “What do you want?” because something I wrote had apparently pissed her off. I’m also getting tired of telling these great stories to people only to hear “Oh yeah, I read that in your blog.”

Gah. Damnit.

And then the things that really trouble me .. oh hell, I don’t want so-and-so to know that … Now it became a game of which posts were public, which were friends-only .. I found this to be extremely miserable.

I used to be one of the people who scoffed at paranoid internet users: The ones who use fake names in chatrooms or think that they’re going to be stalked if they tell anyone what their favorite brand of peanut butter is. I held so much contempt for “those people” .. that whenever something like that came up in a chatroom discussion, you could count on me to immediately post my phone number, just to say .. hey, see? You’re just being fucking ridiculous. 100 people in the room, and no one’s ever called it in 10 years as a result of me doing that. Why can’t you just fucking say your name’s Mike? Or John? or .. ? Seriously, what the hell is someone going to do with that?

Okay, fine, I get it now. I don’t care if anyone ever reads this or not. I’m not here to make new friends. It’s just a fucking diary.