... and we'll see when we get there ...
Mookie woke up and made breakfast, which isn't unsual in and of itself. We sorta 'trade' Saturday breakie. What is worth noting, is that she put chocolate chips in my pancakes, and I am chocolate chip pancakes biggest fan!
This is going to be a difficult read, so kudos to those who make it through ... and if anyone wants to let me know what they think, feel free ... makes no difference as I still intend on getting myself into a better situation.
See, I know Mookie is aware that I am 'changed'. She can't put her finger on it, because that is part of her general shortcomings. What ever she thinks she knows about me, she really doesn't. Earlier in the week we had one of those, 'You don't even know my favorite color', conversations. And because I had shut that deparment of my brain down in October, I couldn't tell Mookie what was her favorite cake or what kind of ice cream she really liked. Can honestly say that I didn't then, and don't now, care.
What struck me was her answers for me. See, I have always like the routine, even as a child. So that is something I do, I will find what I like and do them. She named my favorite candy bar, and she made some other characterizations that were fairly accurate ...
... for her. See, I find my level in any circumstance. The Mark she knows is NOT the Mark from Detroit, the Mark in Carolina or the Mark in Georgia. For instance, my BFF would have called a different candy bar out, because she got me what SHE KNEW AS MY FAVORITE for a birthday gag/gift! Pecan Sandie who was actually in tune to my character would have said I don't like candy bar, but I will eat a Charms blow pop. And my bud AKA would have sworn I was addicted to the 2 for $1 Mickey Dee apple pie, and this horrible soda pop from Faygo, Cotton Candy flavor.
That her life is pretty much the same as it ever was, with no real alteration or inclusion for me in her life, sort of makes me insignificant to her. So I have to do what I have to do until I get a chance to get gone.
... if it isn't happening with you ...
Okay, me hanging with Nebraska was an extra relationship thing. Don't really care that I did it, and don't care that my spirits were lifted by stepping out. And here's why. It wasn't a tit for tat kind of deal, because that determination, that Mookie was in an extracirrcular thing herself had LONG been made. We resolved that without me 'trading' Nebraska for the information. I was assured and saw evidence that the cat she was hangin' with has left the area.
But I have never understood the lack of a sex life in our relationship. I had been under the impression that we were compatible. But I don't understand her lack of wanting to be desired and even presenting herself as desirable for me. It is weird, because she is in an area of exculsivity that she doesn't want to be in.
I have never had to be an overly aggressive, pawing kind of cat. After all, if the feeling is mutual, then it shouldn't take much to get someone going, right? I do feel like the bar was shut down just as I turned 18. I don't need to hassle you for your panties every night ... every other night ... hell, once a week has been fine for me prior to coming here, because I had things to do as well, and I wanted to go to bed when I laid down!
We have had SEVERAL conversations regarding our sex life, pre-discovery. I had told her that she can either play the traditional role and let me take the lead and she follow along, or she can tell me 'not tonight', but then she will need to initiate the action. I won't, because it is something that is TRULY beneath me, to have to struggle to get laid like I was some kid trying to lose his virginity.
WHERE AM I GOING? (WITH THIS ..?)
After she 'screwed over' (hey, that is a pun!) my Valentine's, I haven't even bothered to give her a kiss. This is as much a test as it is anything else. Where I come from, kisses are handed out just because, and love is shown in a bunch of ways, from sophomoric 'goosing' to gentle caresses and best believe I can put together some pretty words, straight off the hip. She is the one that doesn't show affection, even after she has been TOLD that is part of our problem. Like I say, I am insignificant, not enough to make a token attempt to mollify (oh, that is a good word use there ..!)
I used to by flowers once, twice a month. Part because I like to have them in the house, I always did living on my own. The secondary thing was to let my woman know that I care about her. Since I have stopped, she hasn't said anything ... because she didn't say anything when I would buy them.
There is one journaler who makes some cute, sometimes sexy tags. I request some, sent them to my friends just to say hey and have a laugh. Sent Mookie one too. She still hasn't said anything about it.
Finally, I would send her emails, starting when I was in Detroit. She used to reply to them, even if it wasn't anything more than a 'that's sweet' remark. That was cool, as it was my expresion of how I feel, not bait to see if you feel the same. But an acknowledement would be cool.
DID WILLIAM MUNNY WANNA TALK ..?
It's my fault for being in an ill-matched relationship. It isn't my fault that she doesn't know any better. Like I said, I have the time ... it is the execution that I am concerned with. I still have to pay my share of the freight as well as get my gear together, on the surreptious (ooh, good word) tip. Will she be hurt when I spring my move on her? Oh gee, I hope so! When my Mom told me not to take good years from my first wife, she never explained that someone could take some good time from me. And yes, this relationship experience is going to go down as a waste.
Today's ugly vent, is so that I don't say anything to her. I have miles to go to get ready, and I need to do it under the cover of 'Everything is in it's right place', you know? If it hurts her, fine. She needs to know if she can care about something or not, and the next time she enters a relationship, she will be a bit more sensitive to the other person ...
... besides, if it didn't hurt her, then it means this was not just of waste of my time, but a mistake.