Frustration Mounts

It is building today.  So many things I've wanted to say.  So many times I wanted to reach out and say stop.  I'm stuck.  The more I speak up, the less he listens... but the less I speak, the less he will know to correct.  It is a catch-22.  A viscious triangle of frustration.

I want him to make love to me.  I begged for it and attemped, stupidly, to explain myself again.  The message goes unnoticed. 

I want to be happy.  I don't know if I believe that he can be the partner that walks with me into that happy place in my life.  No longer will I rely soley on a man to make that happiness for me, but I sure as hell do believe they need to be a part of it. 

I am no cat lady!  I'm not cold or bitter or ready to close anyone out.  I want him so much.  I love him so much.  But it is utterly confusing.  Just like when my marriage was ending.  It was warped with confusion.

I did not know up from down or left from right.  Everything smears and my life just is.  I don't want to just be anything.  I want to be amazing, loving, fulfilled, and fulfilling.

I don't expect to be president but I want to grow, be strong, and feel accomplished.  I lost my shot at presidency when I stood in front of the camera and became her best friend.  Photo after sexy photo... snapping away any life of publicity.  My brief stint as a webcam girl surely seeled the deal, if nothing previously had.

But I should be happy... past or not.  I want these things, and I deserve these things.  So either he will decide he can afford to give more hugs and kisses and passionate fucks... or I will find someone who will. ... I think.  ... Maybe.