It’s been a while…

Lots has changed since my last entry…

I hardly ever see The Boy anymore, except perhaps in passing… we’re still friends, I suppose, but we’ve never come anywhere near being as close as we were for those few short weeks. He needs to stay away from me, and I from him, I suppose, for the sake of his relationship. You can still feel the flames that burn in both of us when we get near each other, I think everyone can, and so we just choose to stay away from each other, no matter how much it hurts us both.

For a brief, shining moment in time, I had an angel, and he protected me, and kept me safe in his sanctuary away from the Neighbor Guy and the rest of the people in this hateful park and all the other shit that comes with this place. He was beautiful, he was smart, he was sweet, he was sexy, he was amazing… and he’s gone. He left, no idea where he went… I assume he went back to Tennessee or something, I’m not sure. He walked out of my life without saying so much as a ‘Goodbye, thanks for the pussy’, owing me $120 to make it even better.. I didn’t care about the money, I just wanted him to come back, but I guess he didn’t want me. At any rate, he’s gone… and I don’t think he’s ever coming back, which completely broke my heart…

And so, Neighbor Guy came back in full swing, moved right back in while I was sitting on my computer staring blankly at nothing for about two weeks, or spending hours upon hours looking at suicidal and self-injury icons and graphics and quotes and songs and whatever else I could find on the Internet… He moved in and took over everything, just like he did the first time. His run was much shorter though.

I promised him 3 months. 3 months in which I wouldn’t do heavy drugs, I wouldn’t fuck any other guys and I would concentrate on school and work. He promised that he would get an income and leave me alone. I kept my promise, he didn’t. The end of the three months will be here in 4 days… He’s all messed up about it, and if I must admit, I’m a little wary myself. I’ve come to depend on this man for emotional support, as much as it upsets me to admit that. I don’t want to be dependant on him for anything, least of all emotional or mental support. He is just not the kind of influence I need in my life for those kinds of things. I’m not saying that he doesn’t give good advice sometimes, but his view of the world is very tainted and one-sided. He is a very nice guy (when he gets his way), but if I must be honest, he is a loser, and he always will be. He will never be able to get me out of this park. He will never be able to provide me with a nice house or a car or a date at a fancy restaurant or a vacation to Hawaii or something… not that I expect a man to do all of these things for me, but it would be nice to know that he Could. And, unfortunately, I know that he Can’t…

Back when this whole thing started, he asked me for a year, a year to show me what a Real Man was like, how he was supposed to treat a woman, what a real relationship was supposed to be like, what Real Love was supposed to be… That was in August of 2009… what has he shown me since then?
He’s shown me that Real Men are obsessive, jealous, possessive, controlling, clingy, needy, insecure, impotent, angry, vengeful and in general are spiteful people full of hate. They cannot get a job, mostly because they put no effort into doing so, nor do they care about their finances or the fact that their bills are not paid and they are facing eviction notices and fines. Instead of taking care of these things, they pretend to ignore them as if this will make them go away. They abandon their family, their friends, their animals, their house, their entire life so that they can take over and run yours for you. They deserve sex simply because they have a penis and it the woman’s obligation and responsibility to provide said sex because that is their designated role and place in society and life. Sex is little more than a need, like sleeping and eating, and the woman should accommodate this need just as she does all the others.
On the good side, he cooked, he cleaned, he took care of the yard and the car and the dogs and the cat litter box and the laundry and the vacuuming. Real Men make very good housewives, you just have to put up with their ever-constant presence in your face because Real Men don’t believe that time apart is healthy at all. You should spend as much time with them as possible, preferably with as few clothes as possible (because all women should be naked, all the time… men want to see women’s breasts, therefore women should expose them as often as possible…). You have very little time in this world, therefore that time should be spent doing the thing that Real Men enjoy most…take a guess as to what that is…
The Real Man doesn’t care about what the woman thinks, not really. He’ll listen, or appear to, and he’ll promise to try and compromise and change, or at least work with you and make his behavior livable, as you have altered your behavior to make it livable for him. But he will not change, he will not compromise, he will not listen to your request, he will not respect your wishes, he will not abide by your rules or boundaries, and it will become quite apparent that what you have to say and what you think does not matter. It is what the Real Man thinks that matters, not the piddling thoughts of the female.
(Side note: I’m not suggesting that people should change for one another. They should not. You should be free to be who you want to be… people are people and they’re going to do what they’re going to do and you can live with it or leave. However, you can also choose to work with that person because you want them in your life, or because you care about them, or because they are family members, and you an come to a compromise that makes you both happy, or at least livable for the both of you… People must exist with people… we are social beings, we’re stuck with 7 billion people on the planet, and there are times that we must alter our behavior for others judging by the situation and what is appropriate…)
Judging by all of these examples of what a Real Man is, I think I’m going to start considering becoming a lesbian… that way I’ll never have to deal with a Real Man again, thank god… who would want to?

And yet I am still emotionally dependent on this man, even though I really don’t want to be… but unfortunately, there is just no one else there that I can lean on. I tend to collapse in a pile of bloody screams when I try and hold myself up… I need someone there to help support me, I’ve learned this and accepted it, I just have not been able to find anyone who is willing to fill that role without taking over everything completely, for my own good, of course…
And so what can I do? I have backed him off as much as I possibly can without losing him altogether. We’re no longer having sex, we don’t snuggle much, we kiss all the time but they are perfunctory kisses, protocol, prerequisites, nothing more. There is no feeling in them, no emotion, no love, no caring. They happen because one of us is leaving or entering a room, going to work, getting a soda or some other insignificant item for each other… every small little action that happens when we are together seems to require a kiss t

hese days… but the poor guy only has 5 days left so I’m trying to not push things too hard in the meantime… He sits next to me on the couch and we exist together like nothing is wrong, yet we both know that everything is wrong and nothing is right and that he really shouldn’t be here, and that I don’t want him here, yet he refuses to leave because I have not directly asked him to leave. I haven’t asked him to leave because I know that there will be no one there to take his place. It will sit empty, like my heart, my soul, my screaming mind… I will wait, hour after hour after hour, for someone to come along and fill that space that glares at me like an open, seeping razor wound, and no one comes. Not a single person wants to be in that space.

Granted, I do have the boys that come over and oggle at my tits and ass, and I have Neighbor Guy’s friend’s who oggle at my tits and ass, and I have random guys on the street that smile at me and oggle at my tits and ass…but do they really count? Sure, they want to occupy that empty space in my heart long enough to stick their dick in me and wiggle around for a while, but the next morning? The week after? The month after? The next year? They don’t want that, they can’t handle it… They spend enough time with me and they discover that I’m crazy and sporadic and a terrible person who does evil things to the people she cares about the most, and breaks her own heart in the process. After all that, even the "glorious pussy" isn’t worth it anymore… This silly sad confused little girl is left alone once again, letting out her tears and screams into the pillow so that no one will ever know how much she hurts.
Besides, they don’t want to emotionally support me… they don’t want to be there for me, they don’t want to help me, they don’t want to make me happy, they don’t want to keep me together…they won’t be able to keep me sane…They don’t really care about me at all, they just care about that strange collection of flesh that I was born with between my legs. That dark, horrid place that causes pain and suffering and trauma and images and feelings that stay with you for the rest of your life. Scenes and ghost pains that flash through you, causing your heart to stop for a moment, your lungs to freeze, your skin crawls, your nerves become lightning that sets your brain afire and deep down, underneath all of that, your soul screams for mercy under the crushing weight of all this wretched sadness and regret..
I have learned the good side of sex… it took me 10 years, but I finally learned to appreciate the pleasure of it, the closeness, the love, the connection, the passion, the desire, the overwhelming emotions and feelings and sensations that your body seems to draw magically from the other person’s touch, the warmth, the wetness, the dirtiness, the playfulness, the nastiness, all of which weaves a wonderful web of contentment and happiness, satisfaction, and love for the person who has shared this experience with you…

That in itself is a vast improvement and progression for me. I no longer hate sex. I appreciate it for what it has the possibility to be. It can be the most wonderful experience of your life. It can be sweet and loving and tender and caring, it can be dirty and sticky and nasty as hell and absolutely amazing. Unfortunately, it can also be the worst. I have had both sides… but I’ve only had a few of the good, and so, so many of the bad… From my experiences, repeated experiences, years of experience with several different people from several different backgrounds and childhoods…in my experience, overall.. sex is a terrible thing… it’s used for power and control and domination, it’s used to hurt, it’s used for revenge, it’s used to damage, it turns one into an object, a thing to be used, a thing to be abused as the user sees fit, nothing more than a cigarette to be smoked and thrown to the curb or crushed under the heel. It makes one feel like a piece of meat lined up in a supermarket, just waiting, begging, for some cock to come along and stroke it, hoping that it will be judged good enough, pretty enough, delicious looking enough to be the one that gets eaten. It is horrible to be turned into an object, to be a plaything in the hands of some man who gets to decide what position to put you in, what to stuff into your mouth, your pussy, or wherever he should so choose, with or without your permission or consent… Granted, again, role play can be fun. I myself make a very good slave, and I very much enjoy being one, if I know that it is a ROLEPLAY. We are both acting. We may be enjoying it, getting very into character, getting off on the whole entire experience of being a plaything, or the aggressor, or being in control, or the lack of control, and yet, as real and wonderful and fucking awesome as it may be, as many orgasms as it may give you, it is a role play, it is an act, it is a game. It’s fun, it’s something you do because you want to do it, because you enjoy it, because you BOTH want to be actively participating in the activity. There is a major difference between that and being used without your consent, or being used without even being asked for your consent. Knowing that if you struggle, it just increases their pleasure and your pain, knowing that if you push it too far, you could get seriously hurt… knowing that you have absolutely no control and there is nothing you can do against this creature that has you in it’s grasp, and it’s cunning, it’s powerful, it’s stronger than you and it’s fucking hungry, and it absolutely will not be denied… Those are two completely different things….
Sex, in and of itself, is not evil… it does not have to be painful, it does not have to scar you, it does not have to tear you apart inside and out and shatter your soul into a thousand razor-tipped shards… but it often does.

I have learned a lot during my time with the Neighbor Guy… a lot about life, a lot about love or the lack thereof, a lot about responsibility, a lot about the choices we make and the consequences of those choices and actions, a lot about spite and revenge, a lot about pain, hurt and sorrow…and I suppose that’s most of what life is… pain, hurt, sorrow and regret…and survival…
I’ve also learned that I want out of this god forsaken park… that I absolutely hate it here and that I never want to be like the people that exist around me… these people are bitter and angry and they hate anyone who has not squandered their life the way that they have… they hate anyone who has had any sort of opportunity or advancement, whether they worked for them or not… they hate those with an education, those who are smarter than them, those who can see more than they see… they hate anyone who is not like them… And I’m terribly afraid that it’s like that everywhere in the world.. I know I won’t be able to escape that by escaping the park, but I can at least escape these people. These people who despise me because the neighbor has developed a permanent (but rather insignificant) hard-on for me, and they have come to the conclusion that I am a slut, a drug-whore, a temptress, a succubus. I sucked him in here under the cover of darkness with my exposed breasts and my lusty laugh and I wrapped my legs around him and willingly pulled him into me with a glare of defiance to those who waited outside the door. He wa

s a decent man before I got ahold of him, a respectable man, a nice man with a nice girlfriend, upstanding citizens, active at the community centers, friends with the chief of police, a familiar figure walking along the road with their two adorable dogs, holding hands and just so sweet in their love and happiness. Hell I wouldn’t be surprised if they went to church every Sunday, dressed in their best, complete with brunch afterwards at the Ol’ Country Buffet…or Gloria’s, wherever…
And then I came along, and I ruined everything. I turned him from this decent man into a lusting beast. I’ve completely decimated this man, I caused him to lose his job, to be unable to work, to fall behind on bills and rent, to get arrested (more than once…and the rape charges…), to lose his driver’s license, to almost get evicted, to start drinking and doing drugs again, to lie and cheat and spread malicious gossip and abandon his friends and family. I’ve stolen him away from everyone and secreted him inside my house so that only I could have him. And They Are Pissed.
(( Side note #2: Yes, I went to the cops about a rape… he did rape me, kind of.. I was sleeping, he kinda violated me… nasty situation… everyone told me that I needed to report it, that it was this terrible thing, that he was going to do it again, that he was going to get away with it… The Ex was planning on getting together a bunch of people to come out to the park and beat the shit out of him… I tried explaining that he hadn’t really hurt me, not physically anyway, that I was fine, it was just sex that I didn’t want, that I’ve had that a thousand times before, that it was no big fucking deal, just let it go, please don’t make me fucking do this, I don’t want all of this… But I went, mostly to placate the Ex and avoid a scene at the park with the cops and blood and hospitals and it just would have been really, really ugly.. I told the cops what happened, that he hadn’t really hurt me, I was fine, I was a bit shaken and uncomfortable with him and really pissed off and terribly, terribly hurt but I didn’t want him to go to jail, I didn’t want to press charges, I didn’t want him to get in trouble, no, I don’t want a restraining order, no I don’t want you to arrest him, no I don’t want you to question him… the guy in the other room that came with me is freaking out, that’s why I’m here, please talk to him… They told the Ex and I that legally no crime had been committed, there was no evidence of rape, the ‘victim’ did not wish to press charges or file a restraining order. The Ex got all pissed, said they weren’t doing anything about a rapist living in their town, blah blah blah, so they said that they would pick him up and question him and that settled the issue enough for him. They told me I could file a restraining order for the next year if I so chose, and the county prosecutor would make the final decision or not on whether or not to file charges, but they didn’t think she would because they didn’t really see a crime here…that was about a year ago))
All in all, I’m a terrible person who has corrupted this once good man… they don’t want me here with them, I don’t belong here, which works just fine for me… now if only I could get out.. I’m halfway there, I’ve got half my debts paid off… but mother is getting tired of supporting me and I just don’t make enough money at my job to support myself… I can’t make money off the massage until Washington figures out it’s licensing requirements, which won’t be for a few more months…. In the meantime, I don’t know what I’ll do… I can’t really start paying off the last debt I need to take care of until I have an extra income coming in, but I have no way to get that income at this point… so I’m stuck for now… waiting… and I HATE waiting…

Overall, mentally, emotionally, I am ready to move on from this place. I Need to move on from this place. If I stay here, I will suffocate. I will die… I will become like all these bitter, sad people around me, and I know that I can be better than that. I don’t want that kind of life. I need a healthier environment around me, with better people… these people are not good for me.. If I don’t get out of here, I’ll be here forever… and that’s one of the things that scares me the most…