Dreams...

So, last night's dream was interesting. I was inside this restaurant that was carved out of a cave; apparently there was some big to do about it becasue it was forced labor and the people there were required to be there. Anyway, I was waiting in line and decided to sit on a bench in this carriage-like structure. I suddenly started feeling really weird; floaty and compressed all at the same time. I couldn't breathe, and saw that some of the others waiting were having the same type of reaction, but most weren't.
They had turned on some type of giant magnet that had been built into the restaurant. Weird.
Maybe I should cut out the tacos for awhile????

A challenge plays!

A challenge plays!

A challenge plays!

A challenge plays!

And more dreams...

The dreams come more often now. Rarely anymore are they of wolves or fantasy; more like images of horrific natural distasters, atom bomb destruction and worldwide death and terror. Last night it was floods and then blizzards; I was trying to make my way home and couldn't hardly see in front of me. The rains came, and washed away all that was familiar. Guarding home and family has become the thing I think about most.

What if it comes to pass, like the dreams of my family members who then die the next day? Or that morning I woke up screaming my senior year in high school, dreams of looking down and seeing two people in long black coats shooting up a school? I was so terrified I refused to go to school the next day. Imagine the feeling that came over me when I watched the scene being played out on TV two years later as the Columbine massacre ensued.

I don't sleep peacefully anymore. What little sleep I do get is filled with dreams like these. I'm edgy and irritable.

What to do anymore?

Desire....

I ran through the woods, panting, sweating....the brush was crashing behind me Oh God, he's getting closer! I thought, my mind racing. I couldn't let him catch me! My foot caught on a root, and down I went. I could hear him getting closer....I could taste the metallic blood welling up where I had cut my lip when I fell...the crashing was getting closer, as were the howls.....Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.....I looked behind me just in time to see the wolf leap at me....

I sat straight up in bed, drenched with sweat....

The Dream, p.4

I got sick of the damn wolf, so I took my 12-gauge shotgun and blew its fucking head off.

The Dream, p.3

I glanced out the window from our bedroom. The wolf was still down there, looking up at me. I knew I should be frightened, but I wasn't. As the daylight grew more near to darkness, I threw out the dinner scraps for the wolf. Yes, he was a hunter. Yes, he could fend for himself. But I felt a kinship to the animal, who always watched and nothing more. As darkness fell, I waited for Him to come home.

The Dream p.2

I had the dream again last night, only in it I awoke at dawn, my nipples hardened from the cool dew. A great, black wolf with blue eyes was laying close to me, staring at me...and smiling?

I walked back to the cabin, my feet cold, wet, and hurting from the pinecones I was stepping on. It was foggy outside, so like a dream. I carried my shift over my arm (It was in several pieces from the prior night's activities), and walked on....no one would see me; the cabin was miles from any neighbor, or anything else for that matter.

I walked in the back door, back into the kitchen. I stopped for a moment, to look out the window. The wolf was there, sitting outside the window. Was he following me? I walked back up the stairs, to our bedroom, but He was no where to be found. It was like this all the time; I had no idea where He went during the day, but He would always come home at night. I never asked where He was; the topic seemed to be unspeakable. But the nights....oh, the nights! His stamina put my own to shame, and I admit that I am a wanton woman. But He always managed to wear even me out.

It always started out slowly, gently, until it became more urgent. I loved looking at his cock; it was huge, and I feared that I would be rent in half. The way the moonlight gleamed off his hardened muscles always made me ready for him.
"I love you", he said, gently nibbling on my ear. The sounds I was making really didn't sound all that human. He slowly worked his way down my throat...I was spasmodic with delight. A finger slipped inside me, and he smiled "you are so wet", he said with a grin. "Tell me something I don't know", I mouthed off. I didn't think I could take much more of this.
His mouth seemed to be everywhere at once. I shuddered as he took first one nipple and then the other in his mouth. When he entered me, I think we both made some noise. Three strokes, then four, and my orgasm was beginning. "Faster", I cried. "No....this is going to take awhile" he said. I wanted to hit him right about then. He slowed down, and I didn't think I could take it anymore. It seemed forever the way it went on, and then He finally speeded up.
I tumbled over that ledge of fantasy and reality. I really didn't think I had ever had an orgasm that intense. As we lay there, bathed in the moonlight, I looked into his eyes. They were so familiar, but from where, was still beyond me.

The Dream....

I stood in the kitchen of the cabin, looking out the big bay window. The woods beyond were dark, but the light of the full moon danced on the nearest trees, tall, towering pines waving gently in the moonlight.
I heard a noise, and looked over my shoulder. He came down the stairs slowly, and stopped about three steps up, just looking at me. I looked down and blushed; I was only wearing a light cotton shift. I had apparently forgotten my robe.
He walked over to me. I turned back toward the window. I felt him come up behind me and wrap his arms around me. His head rested on top of mine.
"Beautiful, isn't it", he said, his voice husky. "Yes....its just like you told me it was." His hands moved lower. I turned around, and our mouths met, a duel of tongues, and I was dizzy with excitement.
He took me outside, and laid me on a bed of pine boughs. As he entered me, I shivered with delight.

The next thing I know, I'm waking in my own bed, the last waves of my orgasm rippling through me. And the man in my bed was NOT the one in my dream......

Love Bites! p.5

We had a fight. I was so damn tired of him not talking to me. He had been ignoring me for weeks. I was no longer invited to family get-togethers.
"I'm leaving", he said, just as he did six and a half years ago, when he went to Texas. I don't remember much more after that, except that I cried a lot, begged him not to go. Begged for marriage counseling.
I'm too codependent, he said. He's tired of my mouth. And I'm angry....all the time.
I ended up in the hospital yet again. For suicidal ideation yet again. This time, I had a plan. It was going to be a big bottle of sleeping pills. I had never had a plan before.

It seems strange. For years, the ex was not a part of Brandon's life. In April, he saw him again. He gave me "that smile". And for months afterwards, he was in my dreams. Interesting dreams. We had a lot of....conversations. Next week, he's comming to visit, to see our son. Spend time with him. Start building a relationship with him. Brandon needs a father. A father that won't yell at him all the time. A father that will actually play with him. Who won't play favorites. Since Max has decided to separate from me, he doesn't want to see Brandon.

Max has been very cold. He's fine with being in my bed every once in a while, as long as I "Don't get the wrong idea". He says that he's trying not to hurt me, but in reality he's shredding my heart even more.

I miss him. I love him. But I have to "Get a life".

I'm going out with friends tonight; my gay boss is taking me to a gay bar. Max is angry that i don't have a DD. Screw it. He's given up the right to care. And I got invited to a party on Friday night.

Maybe its time for me to start acting my age. God knows I feel twenty years older.

Happy birthday, baby girl. Mama misses you and loves you.

Love Bites! p4

And thus began the roller coaster of emotions that has lasted 7 years. Max and I married in September 2000. Three months later, we tried swinging with a couple near Kansas City. Max had a great time; i didn't. Not only did I NOT enjoy watching my spouse bang another chick, but the other guy involved was too big and hurt like hell.
In January 2001, i hit rock bottom. I ended up hospitalized for suicidal ideation. I tried cheering up, but my job was a dead-end teller position, and I couldn't get back up. So we moved, Max and Brandon and I, and I went back to school. So did Max.
December 7, 2001, I became pregnant with our daughter, Emma. August 2002, she was born. She was so beautiful! Big blue eyes and a headfull of dark hair.....and a heart defect. Max and I spent the next several months doing our best to put some weight on her, but it never seemed to work. She is still so very tiny.
Max dropped out of school. I finished, and got a job as a social worker. Life was good. Then, last November, things went to Hell. I lost my job, Max dropped out of school yet again, and My depression was out of control. I had no access to my medications.
Two Mondays ago, Max took Emma and left me.

Love Bites! p.3

And so it was, that I found myself at 19 alone, pregnant, and with morning sickness that lasted 24/7. After I ended up hospitalized from dehydration and too weak to go anywhere, I decided it was time to cut my losses and EGAD! Move back in with my mother. She took pretty good care of me, always urging me to try to eat a little, try to drink a little bit more. I would ride my bicycle the couple of miles to my mom's boyfriend's house to use his computer, daily emailing Drake and begging him to take me back. Always the response was the same; cold, hateful, spiteful. I was scared to death at the prospect of raising this kid by myself.

On a cold, windy day in April, my son was born. I called Drake from the hospital to tell him about Brandon, but he didn't say anything. Not a single word. Two weeks later, I filed for divorce. A court date was set for August, the day after my 20th birthday.

It was about a month and a half after Brandon was born that Max's parents saw me working at Target. We exchanged pleasntries, and they told me that Max and Darla were living near Kansas City; Max had a job working as a concessions manager for the Royals. I knew he would have loved that. Max loved baseball. Max loved all sports, really. It was something we did not have in common; I am about as fond of sports as Ghandi was of war. But I was glad to hear he was doing something he enjoyed. And Darla was pregnant again. Their first child together was a boy; this one was, too. Wow. A kid every year.

It was the end of June when I got the phone call. I was walking out the door from Target late one night, and the phone rang. It was for me. It was Max! He said that he kept thinking about how we never got any closure from our relationship, and would I be willing to meet him in three hours out at the lake, to talk? YES!

We talked about hings for a good many hours. The moon was growing heavy in the sky when he finally kissed me. His and Darla's relationship was pretty well over; she had been screwing around on him with a couple of swingers she met on the internet. My relationship with Drake was dead and gone. Would I be willing to see him again the next night? Definately!

Love Bites! p.2

It all started so many years ago. I met Max not too long after I started working at a local diner. He was really nice, friendly, in a way that made people open up and laugh easily. He was also a lot older than me. I was 16, he was 26. He had a pregnant girlfiend at the time. I wasn't the kind of girl that people gave a second glance to; I was too "fluffy", and always had my nose stuck in a book. But when he came along, he made me feel like I was worth something. He made me feel special, loved, appreciated. I don't know if it started with me playing the guessing game with his age at work, or if it was after the drive we took to the lake one night after work. But somehow, it started. And I fell, head over heels, in love. He made me promises that I hoped he was going to keep, and we would discuss what we would name our children.

Needless to say, my mother was NOT thrilled with our relationship.

It was a whirlwind couple of months. And then his son was born.

I went by his apartment one summery day in June, and found HER stuff all over the apartment. And a letter that she had written in a notebook to one of her friends, telling about him proposing to her. And that was the end of it. My teenage heart was broken, my dreams for our future together were shattered. I had gone by his place to give him a father's day present; what I got was a broken heart and an ended relationship.

My mom was sure to lay the newspaper on my bed later that summer that had their picture and engagement announcement in it. I was broken, and sure that I would never be "fixed" again. All the antidepressants my mom had the doctor pumping into me would do no good.

And so it was when I began my senior year. I was much more subdued than normal all year. Every so often, I would drive by his apartment and see if his car was there. It never was. I would drive by his parent's house. Occasionally there, but not often. I had to look to my future, rather than wallow in my past, but it wasn't working too well. I missed him terribly.

I looked for him in the bleachers when I graduated, but he wasn't there. I had hoped he might show up, beg my forgiveness, and tell me he loved me. Hah. Not in this lifetime. And so I went aaway, to a good christian college, where I'm sure my famiy hoped that I would meet some good christian boy who would end up becomming a millionaire and making me his wife. Not bloody likely. Instead, I met Drake.

Drake was tall, dark and scary. He also smoked like a chimney, but he wanted me. And with no other prospects in sight, I decided to date him. Late one night, I got a phone call. It was from, of all people, Max! I panicked. I told him I was seeing someone else. And I gave the phone to my roomate; they ended p talking all night. Two days later, Drake and I eloped.

I knew it was wrong. The entire time we were standing there together, saying our vows, a voice inside me was protesting, screaming at me "DON'T DO IT!!!". But I had to do it. I couldn't risk Max breaking my heart again.

And so it was, that I found myself living with Drake in a half-cabin with no heat, running water, or electricity. And Darla, my roomate, shacked up with Max. I was miserable. And as the days wore on and turned into winter, Drake began ignoring me, always having his nose buried in a book.

It was nearly Christmas when we moved in with my mom's boyfriend. Drake was happy, he got electricity for his computer again. I was not so happy; our sex life was non-existant, and I was itching to do something with my life. Drake ended up hooking up with a masochistic girl from Canada on the internet, and spent his nights talking to her. I lay in bed miserable, upset at being ignored.

I found a college in the south that offered me a scholarship. I took it. Drake and I moved down there, and I started classes. I thought to myself, "This could be a new start for us!". Things were okay for a little while, until he got back on the computer and renewed his relationship with the Canadian she-devil. I had come to the conclusion that our life together was over; a quick divorce and we could move on with our lives.

The next week, I found out that I was pregnant.

Drake was VERY pissed off; he didn't want to be a father (never mind the fact that he told me repeatedly during our courtship and early part of our marriage that he wanted to be a father!). He wanted me to get an abortion; I refused. Three days before our one-year anniversary, he left me. I was three months pregnant.

Love Bites!

When it was a half hour after he was supposed to pick me up from work, I started to panic. Where was he? I tried calling our apartment...no answer. So, I began walking. It was a long walk home, hot, tiring, and I was worried. Had something happened?

He arrived not too long after I got home. "I'm leaving", he said, his voice steady, his eyes cold. I didn't want to believe it. "Where?" I asked, already knowing the answer. "Texas. I've already got a job lined up" he said, nonchalantly, my heart breaking. "When?" I asked. "Now", he replied "The car is already packed up". The goddamn car. His car. Our only mode of transportation.

I watched him leave, car packed so full that he couldn't see out the back. The sun was setting in the sky, and I felt like my life was over. I went back inside, went to our room, and cried until I couldn't cry anymore.

So this was it? This was what I left home for? No more safety or security, stuck without a vehicle in a town with no public transportation? How was I going to get to work and to school? How was I going to get my son to his doctor's appointments? How was I going to heal this shattered heart?