The other night I was wondering when I fell out of love with BDSM. When it just wasn't important.

My fantasies haven't changed much, although my dream everyday life changes everyday. I still want what I want in bed.

I thought about moving away last year, being on my own for the first time, and being in the crazyish poly situation that I was mostly too embarassed to write about, let alone tell any real life friends about. She was one of those subs who decided to set the rules (which I think I tried to do a number of times) and then, once she had the rules, because she basically convinced him into them, looked like an ass because he really didn't care about them.

The best was seeing her sweltering in a car, not helping the other five people unload a truck, because he didn't open her door, and the rule was that he had to open her door to let her out. And he had no clue. Didn't until she told him the next day, after someone had finally let her out wondering why the fuck she wasn't helping.

And it was just so hilarious, so absurd, so pathetic... that I just started to think I wanted no part of that. Even though I'd use alt to find more dates, it just wasn't worthwhile, and I just didn't care anymore. It didn't seem important at all, just sort of stupid and silly. Even though I still feel like a part of it, I think I started to feel like I was taking the whole thing with a truckload of salt instead of a few grains. It's not my life anymore, or even much of it.

I still want Jake to rough me up, that doesn't change. But I don't think I can imagine anymore wanting someone else to be in charge of my life. Maybe I've just grown into some arrogance, feeling like there isn't anyone else in the world who can take care of me better than me. Maybe I was wrong in wanting someone to take care of me in the first place - yeah, more that than anything else I think.

He's coming for my sister's wedding. I've got a facebook countdown started, I can't wait to see him. I miss him.

He's not my boyfriend. We've fought about it a few times. I've finally come to the conclusion, that, for whatever reason, he's really uncomfortable with the label right now. I think part of it is being laid off, being a life mess right now. Which I understand, to a point... But it still hurts. It still feels cruel in some ways.

My girlfriends have that pity sense when I tell them about it. I don't know if he understands how disrespectful it is to me to treat me like he does. I think if he did, he would change something. I'm afraid he'd change the part that I wouldn't want him to.

He's planning a surprise for me when he's down, calling my mom to arrange it and everything.

I'm thinking about getting my MBA with my JD. Business law or divorce law.

I think letting my social life suffer in college was a massive mistake.

I never want to underestimate the power of good groups of girlfriends again.

I'm tired all the time, but I'm still good. My life is good. I am ridiculously, head over heels, in love. The happiness is kind of gross almost. I'm wondering when it's going to wear off. I'm surviving school, and thinking about more. I'm doing homework, I'm getting ahead for when Jake's here, I'm joining groups. I can straighten my hair now, a product of being surrounded by preppy girls instead of lots of hippies.

I'm going to try to resist beating the shit out of my brother in law at his wedding. Try really really hard. So will Jake. We'll get dressed up and get to dance. We get to go to a baseball game. Mass together. Sleep together. Watch movies together. I've had two hugs since I got here - from crying with my girlfriend. And I want real hugs, from him and my family. I miss them.

Law school, life, etc

So it's been awhile.

Law school is going... Yeah. It sucks, it's lots of work, it's kind of scary sometimes, but I'm making friends and really it's probably going as well as it possibly can. I'm having mini-breakdowns of lots of melodramatic "I can't do this!!!" cry for an hour, call someone and cry and talk, then do more homework while I fantasize about quitting.

I got called on for a case for the first time in one of my classes, but I did pretty well.

But moving sucks so much that I really can't convince myself that it will ever be okay to do anything that would cause me to move ever again. I have way, way too much stuff to be in a 450sqft apartment.

I might have to quit the blog, based on some things I'm finding out about the bar exam in certain states. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

I feel like I've been in school for centuries, and it's been a week and two days. Having friends is nice. Having an apartment near the water is nice.

It's odd, I kind of just say that simultaneously, life sucks but I can't complain.

Things with Jake are on... pause? until our lives are more sorted. I'm still pretty much "smitten" as my next door neighbor would say, but for most effective purposes, I feel single. I don't share my life with anyone, and I think it's only when I do that that I can feel loved.

I went to lunch with a friend today, it was nice to get away from books and highlighters. I'm thinking about getting a good haircut soon - I feel kind of inadequate looks wise in comparison to a lot of the girls, and one of my friends gave me a reference and a $25 coupon, which would be $55 for a cut and color. Cheap, apparently, although so expensive compared to my typical $7 trim.

There was a gecko in my apartment for three weeks that scared the hell out of me multiple times. I tried to humanely catch it and get it outside, but it didn't work, and it finally got caught in a glue trap - that was a major victory. The gecko-induced panic attacks so weren't worth it.

My little car was considered totaled. Mostly because it wasn't worth very much in the first place. The insurance company still hasn't called to let me know what they're going to do, so until then, limbo. I feel bad being so reliant on my parents right now. I'm lucky that they can help me, but I just feel this mental calculator going up and up of how much money they've had to spend on me.

Money is so stressful.

I got a messy email from the guy I was seeing last summer about my phone. Basically, there were a bunch of people on one account, someone went over minutes and doubled the bill, and the agreement that I had had with him went out the window.

Basically, I was supposed to have been paying around $40 each month for it (crazy cheap for the plan that I needed with my phone, why I did it in the first place), but he only asked me for the money a few times, every other time he just payed it. I had considered canceling it and sending everything back, but I thought it would be more hassle than it was worth, and I really didn't have the extra money anyway.

I had made it months with no contact with him at all, which made me happy, and that's why I didn't want to cancel it - I'd actually have to contact him. But since this came up, I just decided to cut my losses (send back the expensive phone I bought last summer) and get a new plan.

Again, with my parents saving my ass. I'm going to get back on a family plan with mom, and I ordered an iPhone (which I'm super excited about). My bill will be more expensive, but I think I'll still be able to handle it. I'm sad to see my phone go. I get attached to them, I think because it's something that's around everyday, that I use constantly for different things throughout the day, and unlike most of my friends that have probably destroyed ten, I kept my first two for three years each, and this last one for only a year.

The whole mess just stressed me out. I was irritated, but not surprised that things weren't handled clearly. I'm embarrassed that I ever even dealt with him, disgusted with myself in a lot of ways over the whole situation. I guess I can write it off as having to make my own mistakes, but I still feel like I knew better.

I know that in some respects I was just really desperate for any kind of escape from my life at the moment that I met him, and he provided that for me. I think by the end of it I was so pissed I just wanted to use him in whatever way that I could, for all of the shit that I had to deal with from him.

Still, I made the choice to be there. I made the mistakes, not anyone else.

I dunno. The amount of stress that I felt this week over a stupid phone... I'm just tired.

Jake came over last night and we watched Amélie. It made me really happy, especially the beginning where they go over what everyone likes and dislikes.

I didn't feel good, but I took a bunch of medicine to try and calm my stomach down. I was sunburned and tired and still kind of... weird? about the week before. He had to cancel a date that I was REALLY looking forward to, and I was REALLY upset about it, even though A) I'd never been that upset about him cancelling a date on me before and B) I understand that he needed to cancel, he had a good reason. But I didn't get to know the details of why, and I had just had a rough couple of days. I think I wanted the escape, maybe depending on it even. I think I felt kind of like I needed him and he wasn't there, even though I didn't actually need him for anything and he needed to be alone way more than I "needed" to be around him. So I basically flipped from feeling very close to him (after he mini-rescued me from the deer) to feeling very distant and out of the loop (I didn't get to know the details of what went wrong on Saturday, just that something had and he needed to sort it out).

But I wasn't feeling very good and hadn't really bothered to look pretty at all. No makeup. Didn't shave (anything, at all, and I was sporting crazy pubic hair from trying to wax/tweeze/thread and failing after a certain ouchie point). Wore jeans. We snuggled on the couch, there was fondling and cuddling and he held me tight and it felt really good to be there with him. I like nights at home with him the best I think... Or maybe I just need those the most. We talk more and have more "fun" when we're out, but I get more cuddles on the couch at home, and I feel like a devouring black hole for cuddles.

I wasn't expecting anything sexual to happen at all. But then we were making out and I felt like he wanted me to suck his cock and I wanted to because I was horny even though I wasn't expecting it and I thought we had kind of taken sex off the table for awhile. He was being... just aggressive and sexy. Sexy isn't the right word, but I don't know the right one either. The flip between the sweet Jake and the... "you're my little whore" Jake is difficult for me, kind of puts me on edge, I think because I'm not used to being dominated and feeling comfortable and safe and feeling turned on. It's like those things can't exist together for me, and I end up kind of trying to check out while trying to remind myself that I am safe with him and I can stop anytime, but then I'm so busy trying to relax that I can't even feel sexual or good because I'm so far from being relaxed. And I'm not the one in the lead so I don't know what's going to happen next and I'm freaked out that it will be something I don't like and I'm more worried about that than what I'm doing and it just becomes a whole big mess.

When he asked me to take my pants off, I kinda panicked. I froze in place. Terrified of him seeing me naked. Even though he has before. I don't know if I was just being self conscious, or vain, or what, but I didn't want him to see me when I hadn't gotten myself ready for him. And it completely scared me and freaked me out. I felt so ugly, gross, even though he always makes me feel sexy and pretty.

We stopped, and he hugged me and we talked and calmed down and took things that are below the belt off the table for now, because it really isn't a good idea for us at the moment. And it was probably good that we stopped from the perspective of having a healthy relationship in the long run.

But I regretted stopping as soon as we left. I hated myself for stopping, even though it was probably the better decision. And i still feel bad about it. I want us to have crazy hot wild sex. I just want him, plain and simple. I don't want to feel guilty about this, but I kind of feel like I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't.

And I feel closed off because I didn't get to see him for almost a week after the awful Saturday and I just feel far away from him. And I don't really like that. But I don't know if I can handle going from feeling close to not close to close again. Especially when I'm not sure if it's just a normal ebb and flow thing or, like my paranoid self thinks, that it's just going from close to not close, the end, and he's going to disappear forever and he hates me.

I think its just ebb and flow, I don't think he'll disappear on me. I guess it just feels weird because we haven't had sex or slept together or showered together and we're still at the beginning and I'm so used to being completely sure that the end is near for a relationship. And I'm completely uncertain, even though I'm moving towards being comfortable thinking that he's gonna be there tomorrow. Because he came to see me and wanted us to have sexytime and we're supposed to go out tomorrow and I'm not getting my hopes up because I'm afraid he's going to cancel.

And then I realize I'm just overthinking this all way too much and that I'm happy when I'm with him. Really happy.

Apparently prince charming, while fond of white horses, can also show up in a grey SUV.

We went to see Up last night (Super cute. I expected to love it but ended up only really liking it, but I was still happy that I got to see it. I think I just love the colors of pixar movies). I kind of dragged Jake, although as he said, he didn't really put up much of a fight. We drove separately because he had to take care of his grandpa before, and after we left I had to pick up some of Dad's favorite yogurt (the man didn't eat yogurt for 62 and a half years, and after the magic diet he can't get enough).

And then I hit a deer.

Or the deer hit me. It was a GIANT deer.

Really my car is just little, but still. It was big. The right headlight is gone/destroyed, the hood is bent some and stuck closed, and the side panel has a chunk missing. Hopefully no major internal damage.

I was shaken up, crying a little, then not crying, then crying, then not. It was around midnight, and I figured Jake hadn't gotten home yet (only to his subdivision, I felt so bad) and he immediately said that he'd be there. He somehow got me to tell him where I was, I don't think I was making sense. He didn't even bother asking if I actually needed him. And he got there, and he thought about a lot of things that I didn't, like if fluids were leaking, or taking it straight to a repair shop. And he hugged me and let me cry a little. Then followed me home and told me that he'd help me get it to a repair shop if I needed to.

I think, if he hadn't been there to call, that I probably would have just pulled over, looked at the damage, and tried to calm down. Then gone home and worried about it in the morning. I've had to do it before (guard rail incident). But I was really grateful that I had someone that I could call - that I didn't have to deal with it just by myself in the moment.

I'll be able to use my Dad's car to pick him up from the airport today. Then I'll have to show them the damage (my car is still in my parents name and on their insurance - it's cheaper that way for now, and they want to help me with that because of school) and decide the best course of action. I feel horrible about it, even though it wasn't like I could really help it (for once, I actually wasn't speeding). It's just a pain to have to deal with, especially when Dad is only home for this weekend, AND it's father's day. And my mom has been insanely stressed because he isn't home.

It'll be okay.

Jake and I, in mass, we had just knelt down after getting communion. I lean over and say

"Wonder if that was organic?"

He says

"I think the real question is whether or not it's cruelty free."

Church giggles and hip bumping ensue :)

Best night ever. I also now have THREE beers that I really really like.

Meeting the Parents

So.

I met Jake's mom and grandpa yesterday. His dad was out, otherwise I would have met him too.

Yeah, I know, huge deal, right? Sure, it's less of a big deal because it's more logistical than "Meeting THE Parents," but we'd avoided it until now and he's probably going to meet my mom tomorrow, before he picks me up for mass and dinner.

Mass - I know, right?

(Yeah, in my own head I sound very dumb blonde/valley girl ish. I don't really think that it's that bad. I probably should.)

I'm bringing a boy (man) home to meet my mom.

This feels insane. I'm living in some alternative world, where an hour of quiet time in mass just feels good - tradition, stability, stained glass windows. Where I can meet a guy's parents and the world doesn't come crashing down from the strings holding it up.

His mom was super nice to me, she was sweet. I was irrationally nervous, if only for horrible memories of an ex's mom treating me like "the whore taking her little boy away." I suppose it helps that he's 38, although I think his mom probably eternally sees him as a cute little kid - just like Dad still looks at me like I'm 3.

And she knew how old I was - which I didn't know until I talked to Jake tonight and made me really happy, I was worried about how they would react to the age difference. He told her that I'm probably more mature than he is. I think that's sort of true. Also sort of not true, but a sweet sentiment - he's more mature in ways that I don't know that I'll ever be. I think what I have in responsibility he has in fun. I'm not that good at being fun, so I'm happy when I can be around people that can make me feel more fun, bring out the fun that is in my personality.

We finally got to just hang out together and watch movies and snuggle on the couch - something I've definitely wanted and we had to keep canceling for a couple weeks. I like the downtime with someone, the doing nothing together. It feels solid to me in a way that going out together doesn't, even though I probably like that just as much.

I'm pretty happy right now.

Yeah, this is long. Mostly for a writing therapy session/ stuff I don't want to forget.

Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed, embarrassed, frustrated, that I just kind of hide away from everything.

When things are going moderately alright, I feel like I can bitch about things that are wrong, that I can have parts of my life feel bad without feeling like most of my life is bad. In school, I basically always had good grades, so even if I was frustrated, even if things with guys were bad, or friends, or my body... it didn't matter much, because the thing that defined me the most at the moment was still "ok." When it feels like something in my life is fucked up it's alright because I'm not fucked up, but right now I feel like I am.

Things feel mostly out of sorts and wrong. I feel like I can't help with anything that needs help, and I feel surrounded by things that I want to help with, or figure out, or make better.

I'm worried about my parents. About trying to find an apartment. About living close to my sister. Starting law school and hating it. Worried about money. The news is really depressing me right now, angering me. Sleep. Food (i feel like I'm binge eating. And I hate it, because I'm doing it because I'm stressed but I can't articulate the stress like I want to, and all the tactics I have to stop stressing about food just aren't working. And then my digestive system becomes even more messed up than normal because I'm eating like crap)

Jake and I went out last weekend, and we had a great time.

Nothing sexual happened at all. Except for kisses and hugs. Which don't really count. And I'm all freaked out by this whole... liking someone who you want to be sexual with but aren't really being all that sexual with and the sexual component of the relationship is only one part of it, rather than the primary reason, or only reason.

And I know that it's probably really good to be going slow and that it's useful and I'm probably not ready for sex yet, but it's still so weird for me. It's weird for me to imagine having sex with someone that I actually want to see the next day - to imagine having sex with someone that I'm really interested in. Sure, it was nice to see some of the guys the next day. But overall, if I didn't ever see them again, it wouldn't cause much turmoil. I didn't expect anything more than sex, so anything beyond that was bonus. But this isn't like that. It doesn't even feel like sex plus going out to dinner.

This is dilated pupils for the entire 11 straight hours that I spent with him.

And I think about all of this and I think about how it's been over three years since I even really opened up to a friend. Or made a friend.

At the time, I didn't give the situation much weight, but when some of the first friends I made in college basically turned me in for a suicide watch (involving a vice chancellor - who threatened to kick me out of school, campus police, campus psychologist, and my parents) because when I told them about being upset the girl of the couple told me "it's not like you're going to go kill yourself or something" and I stormed out of the room pretty pissed off. Which angered me in so many ways that I can't even begin to explain, and by the end of the night just felt like this intense betrayal. These were people that I hung out with every single night for months - who were in therapy and on meds themselves, and understood the mental health system to know that A) You don't f-ing say that kind of thing to someone, ever, and B) what happens when you make a complaint about any kind of self harm.

They knew, after the fact, that they were in the wrong. I had classes with them for two and half years after, and they wouldn't dare look at me. And they apologized through my roommate. That was by far one of the scariest nights of my life - no matter what, you aren't believed. There is nothing I could say that would make them believe me. It wasn't until they called my normal therapist (who said, essentially, yeah, that's just how she always is, she's fine) and talked to my parents (who reiterated the yeah, she's fine - and what will the punishment be for the students who started this?).

Since then, I really haven't bothered to get to know anyone. I guess I believe pretty firmly that if you care about someone, and you're really close to someone, then you try to go to them and help them yourself before going to people outside the relationship. I was friendly with people in college, but I never really hung out with people. I turned down invitations. I mostly talked about the past, or things in the abstract.

When I moved, I made friends with the other girlfriends. And while I liked them and got along with them, I don't think I once felt anything more than surface friendship with them. Nothing was deep, or if it was, it wasn't about me, and it wasn't about things that were happening to me at the moment.

Same thing when I lived with my sister. There were a lot of people to spend time with, to hang out with, but I don't think I had a single real conversation with anyone until the weekend before I left - and that was when I could say how much I had come to dislike living with my sister and BIL and being around them, and the only reason I could say that was because I knew I was leaving. I knew I wouldn't see these people for 8 months, if ever again.

And I haven't done the work to keep up old friendships. When i do, it seems to go unanswered anyway - a text, a voicemail, an email. It seems like those things are fading away even more than I expected them to. And the people that I loved so much are moving away from the things that I loved about them.

I talk to Alex about things, but he has the benefit of being a long distance friend who I don't see, so the same level of friendship or intimacy isn't there, even if I can talk to him about many things.

So I think to replace the intimacy and the friendship that I was missing from friends, I'd talk to the people that I was sleeping with at the time. Easy, because I knew that they weren't staying in my life.

I want to get closer to Jake. But I guess I feel like I'm coming to this internal intimacy roadblock that I don't know how to get past, because I want him to stay in my life for awhile, at the very least. And all of my experience is not in that kind of relationship - it's in the shallow, the temporary, even if they weren't meant to begin that way. As a kid, I moved every four years and left every place behind completely, never going back or keeping in touch past six months. And it's not just him... I don't want law school to be like college - I don't want to shun friendships.

I loved going out with him - I don't want to forget it. Loved how he touched me in public, fussed over getting on the right side of the sidewalk. Loved how we talked about god in the car. How he ordered things for me that were perfect just about every time. How our bartender called me the best girlfriend ever, even though this was what, date three? I like that we're comfortable enough to come off that way. How grateful he was that I drove home, especially when it wasn't that big of a deal for me to do so. Sitting next to him in mass and watching the little girl stare at us. Getting to keep saying "just ketchup" in the hot dog place. Knowing that me being depressed and him kinda manic is nowhere near as bad as my worst case imagined scenario (although when it's reversed it's gonna be interesting...) Listening to sports and star wars stories. Learning what a carbomb(?) is. Sitting in the french restaurant for forever. I like eating with him. Tasting lots of different things. The beer that I really really liked. Coughing because of a cashew in the bar that I couldn't swallow right. Watching him get irritated by the guys ordering food in the bad spot - loved that so much, felt so safe. Standing in my parents driveway kissing and planning more dates and more dates and trying to say goodbye but just kissing and planning more and more. Walking to bed, peeling off my dress, and going to sleep as soon as he told me he was home safe.

I want lots of nights like that.