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.
