There are only a few days a year that a woman wants to be treated special. She wants to be loved and shown in a variety of ways what those close to her really think about her.

Those are – Anniversary, Birthday and Christmas.

Yesterday was my birthday. I woke with anticipation of what he had in store for me this year. Last year was a tough year and I was told it would be much better this year.

The day came and went and the only thing he thought to give me was a card with a note in it. Granted, it was a very sweet note, but the card was one he already had in a drawer. It wasn’t even something new and picked out uniquely for me.

Today I thought maybe he would stop on his way home from work – maybe he would run out on his lunch break – maybe he would send me flowers – maybe, he would whisk me away for dinner.

None. Of. The. Above.

Granted we did get some disappointing news. News that something he was looking very forward to wasn’t going to happen.

It just seems like everything is all about him. Always.

Just once I’d like to feel important. Special. Loved.

But then if I felt that once – it might be addicting, wouldn’t it?

So happy fucking birthday to me – just another day on the calendar.

Thankfully I have good friends and family who made the day a little brighter because the man who says he loves me sure the hell didn’t.

In a recent discussion over lunch recently – While discussing our moving in together, A asked me what I wanted to do…

The conversation went something like this –

Him – “What do you want to do? Do you wanna get married or something?”

Me – “Eventually. Why are you asking?”

Him – “Not now. Not here.”

Me – “Ok”

/end of conversation

Since then, the topic of marriage has come up a couple of times.

Me – “My stomach is really sore. I think I need to take a nap.”

Him – “And here I was going to propose tonight.”

Me – “Nuh Uh!”

/end of conversation

Another time…

Him – “I was thinking we should maybe go ahead and get married rather than just living together.”

Me – “We should at some point I’m sure.”

/end of conversation

Another time…

Him – “I was talking to my mother today and told her we were thinking of getting married.”

Me – “And how did that go?”

He went on to tell me what his mother had said – but the topic itself wasn’t discussed further.

/end of conversation

Now, these conversations have taken place over the last month. I’m not sure what to make of it and wonder if somehow I’m giving mixed signals? If he’s testing the water to see how serious I am? To test the waters to see how NON serious he can remain? To test the waters to make sure he doesn’t get rejected if he asks? To see if I’m willing to just be the girlfriend so he can remain single? Or WHAT?

Men are NOT that simple. I don’t care WHAT people say. They don’t say what’s on their minds AT all.

So earlier today I decided to send him an email – He probably won’t get it until this evening since it’s on his personal account but to me it’s pretty straightforward, but then again, that’s me.

The day we were having lunch and you asked me “what I wanted – if I wanted to get married or what?” My response that day was “at some point.”

What I should have said is “yes, I do” –

I want to be with you and there are so times that I am torn between what my head tells me and what my heart wants.

My head tells me to stay in stay secure in my own house, taking care of me and my kids and not placing myself in the position of risk by moving without the promise, without the commitment.

My heart tells me to go ahead, create the family and trust that you’ll make that commitment to me at some point in the near future.

When I get cranky – those are the times I’m struggling most. The times I’m questioning moving, questioning us living together, fearing the risk I’m taking with me and my kids. It’s during those times that an inner battle is going on between my heart and my head. Investing in a property and home that is not mine in anyway besides a name and numbers on an address label – As you know, I’ve been taken to the cleaners a few times. I know you are so different from the men in my past on so many levels, but does anyone really know what others are capable of doing in the months or years to come? No one can ever know that. Can they?

I love you – I want to be with you – more than anything. I just NEED more than anything to feel secure and I need you to tell me and show me that I have nothing to fear.

Your job in this relationship is to love me and make me feel secure.

So tell me, is that difficult to understand? Does that sound like someone is on the fence?

We’ve been together for nearly a year and a half – essentially living together while maintaining two households. From a financial standpoint, it’s kind of silly to maintain two homes when we stay at one. Right?

And men wonder why women are so confusing!

It’s because THEY Make us that way!

While pouting about the house tonight, needing some sort of outlet for my angst, I realized it had been forever since I’d written here. Life seriously gets in the way sometimes, doesn’t it?

So much has happened since my last visit here.

Mr. A and I have decided to move in together. There is no real point in maintaining two entire households when we are actually living in one. Seems foolish to pay double the bills.

We waited for a few things to happen before deciding whether it would be my place or his that we’d end up calling home.

It became obvious that his place made the most sense. We began planning out our colors, painting and making the house a home we would both feel comfortable in.

I really felt like this was going to be a good thing. He’d even care to clean out his desk and tell me he’d gotten rid of all the old girlfriends phone numbers to make me feel comfortable.

I felt safe. I thought I’d been given the “all clear” to work about the house.

Unfortunately I came across some items that have caused me some uneasiness. Not your typical “arm around ex-girlfriend in front of the Christmas tree” sort of items either.

It’s one thing to realize men watch porn – to attempt to be understanding and let the occasional viewing slide.

Is it wrong of me to insist he get rid of a small collection of pictures and videos that he participated in?

Don’t get me wrong, he has said he will get rid of them – however, I have asked to be there when he does. I just don’t trust that he will dispose of it properly and for whatever reason, he seems to be hanging onto it like it’s some sort of pacifier.

My feelings have also been hurt recently in learning that his ex-girlfriends have experienced a life with him that I haven’t come close to in over a year. Nice restaurants, meeting certain friends and family members, going very different places from what I’m used to. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Sometimes I feel as though I may be too old-fashioned, too sentimental and much too romantic to be involved in a relationship these days.

Then I push all my angst aside and tell myself I’m just over-thinking yet again!

I’m beginning to think there’s something taboo about that 1st year anniversary from when I begin dating a guy. It is however, an improvement over the 6 month mark I’d previously grown accustomed to.

As I we come up on the anniversary of the date we began dating, I’m finding myself challenged to even function as half of a couple.

The unemployment rate is high and “A” is caught up in that mess. He’s been working hard to find a job and that seems to be easy for me to blame his actions on that.

When we first began seeing each other, he seemed so ambitious, attentive and loving. We could lay awake all night long talking about things that were important to us. Our sex life was amazing – I really believed I’d found someone I was compatible with on every possible level.

Late last summer, I began feeling somewhat displaced. Something just wasn’t right – he was growing distant. After showing up at his place out of the blue, I discovered he had spent hours upon hours, daily, watching porn.

I know every man does it and as much as I am disgusted by this activity, we did negotiate to him partaking in the watching of porn once in a while. But daily was out. If he felt the need to watch it daily and for hours on end, there was an additional problem that needed addressed.

That issue was handled and set aside.

Enter the next issue. Since late October, we’ve had sex THREE times. I think he’s kissed me (with tongue) ONCE since then.

He claims it’s an issue with ED, so we bought something help the problem. Three times out of the 30 possible in that little bottle. I’m beginning to feel like it’s me and that I’m somehow not attractive enough or that he is back to the porn issue and getting that stimulation someplace else.

When I mention it to him, he gets upset and says he is sick of talking about it and that my placing so much pressure on him makes it even more difficult for him to perform.

We place that issue on the shelf while I hope it will eventually resolve on its own.

When we began seeing each other, I explained to him that I love my family – I love my man and I love taking care of them. I love to fix healthy meals – sit at the table as a family – watch television together – lay in bed with my man and rub his back. I enjoy doing just about anything I can to make my man feel loved, appreciated, desired and respected.

I did explain to him however, that when all those actions get to the place that they are expected instead of appreciated – that’s when I hang up the hat and stop finding pleasure in them.

Enter next issue…

Those actions are now expected.

“A” will sit in the recliner and hold up an empty glass with a “honey, can you get me some more pop?”

“A” will roll over in bed with a little wisp of the fingers on my arm or thigh letting me know he would like to have his back scratched.

While I am attempting to do something constructive around the house or something important that needs to be done, “A” will ask me to stop and fill out some form or application for him online. Some applications take up to an hour to fill out.

“A” falls asleep in bed with the television on. When I ask him to shut it off as he is dosing, he asks me to set the alarm instead.

I do.

He falls asleep in bed with the remotes that often results in our spending 5 plus minutes looking for them once they’ve been lost in the covers or behind the headboard or footboard.

Yep, this frustrates the hell out of me.

I keep telling myself things will change drastically when he gets back to work full time.

But then I pause and wonder – Am I just kidding myself?

I’m lost!

I’ve always said I’d rather be alone and lonely then to be with someone and lonely. I’m wondering if that’s where I’m headed now.

Two years after that dreadful mistake – I’d emerged from my depression enough to begin to socialize a bit more. With such little self confidence and feeling as though I didn’t deserve to be treated good by anyone, let alone a partner, I accepted what was right in front of me.

I dated that man for over a year before I realized his life of drugs and alcohol were not something I wanted to be involved with. I was not into drugs and drinking had taken enough from me.

After passing out one night for a few hours, I woke up to get some water. When I walked out of the bedroom, I saw the man I was dating kissing on another girl. It was at that point, I knew I had to get out while I could – before I fell in too deep.

The next day I packed my belongings and headed home. The next few days I spent looking for a new job and getting my life back in order or at least putting a plan together to get there.

Several weeks passed and life was improving – I could see the darkness fading from under my eyes, the size 0 I’d become was slowly returning to the 5 I wanted to be. Things were good!

Next thing I knew, I had that same old sinus infection returning that I’d had a couple months prior. So I returned to the doctor to get checked up and get my next round of antibiotics.

It was during this doctors visit that I found out I was pregnant. Apparently my doctor had forgotten to tell me that the antibiotics I took on the first sinus infection caused issues with my pill – and stupid me, I didn’t read inserts at the time – so here I was, pregnant by the lowest form of life possible.

This time I would do this – I would not revisit the same decision I had before – I could do this on my own, with my family as a strong support, I’d be fine.

A few weeks passed when I had my first ultrasound. It was a that time I was told I was expecting twins. The doctor went on telling me all the warnings, risks, etc.

I knew at that point, I had to get back with their dad – and make it work, at least for a while. I needed insurance and I needed to be home with my babies after they arrived.

I went back to him – told him I was pregnant with twins in October. We made plans and married that December.

The day I married him, I remember my grandmother begging me not to marry him. She and my grandpa urged me to move with them and let them help me.

Me not wanting to be a burden, I had to do things my way.

I felt like God had forgiven me for what I had done before and was now giving me two babies to show his forgiveness. How could I not be grateful?

And so she emerges…

I’ve been having one of those ‘weeks’ since just before Christmas. I’ve sunk to a level of depression that’s so difficult to dig myself out from under. Try as I might to adhere to the powers of positive thinking or law of attraction, I struggle – every. single. day. Struggle with a disgust in myself for allowing myself to be taken in by not one man – but four!

I’m such a hopeless romantic and love being a wife, mother and homemaker. Allowing my desire to be that homemaker caused my heart to be blinded. As a result, I wound up choosing the wrong men.

The first choice was after I’d left the one man I ever really loved and who set the bar on how I wanted to be treated. We’d broken up and I moved back to the rural area I grew up in, away from the city – away from him.

You see, I’d made the ultimate sacrifice for him. After we’d dated for over a year, I found out I was pregnant. I knew going into the relationship that he was Jewish and nothing could come of us – so I took every precaution I could to make sure an accident wouldn’t happen.

I don’t even recall what happened or how it happened. I thought I was doing everything to keep it from happening.

After finding out, I thought about my situation for a couple of days, wondering how I would tell him – how he would react and what would become of us. I knew we couldn’t be together as husband and wife because his family would never allow it – but I certainly didn’t anticipate the reaction and response I got.

When I phoned him, he was preparing for a trip out of state. I told him I needed to talk to him when he got back. He could tell something was wrong – so he pushed me to tell him. When I did, his response was simply and very matter-of-factly  “you know what you’ve gotta do and I’ll pay for it.”

I was crushed.

I sunk into an agonizing depression wishing for a miracle or wishing for death to take me in my sleep. Neither ever came.

When he returned from his trip – he’d stopped off at my apartment while I was at work. He slid a check and a note under the door. The note simply stated he could not and would not ever be a father like a child should have and he’d made arrangements at a local clinic. He closed with an offer to drive me beside it, a date and time.

I wanted to die.

The next time I talked to him, I was broken – completely shattered. He spilled his thoughts and let me know if I genuinely loved him, I would do what he asked.

I was 22 at the time.

I did what he wanted.

After that horrible experience, I felt I’d fallen to the bottom of the barrel. I felt like trash, like I didn’t deserve to be treated good, with respect, with love. I was a horrible person and deserved nothing better.

Two years, a very long drinking binge later – that’s what I found and what I got.