I will start with the wonderful news, before getting to the not-so-good news. I was totally shocked to get a letter from Paula B today! It was a wonderful surprise. I have written her back, too, and enclosed a picture of me and some desert scenery shots, as she asked for. I’ll look for an Arizona T-shirt as she also asked for, but not the suit.

I guess she got a PO Box cuz of how much she moves around.

I was amazed at how well she wrote and spelled that letter. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t like Fran, either. Fran misspelled every other word and used no punctuation at all. Paula just doesn’t use question marks and spells my name wrong like most people do.

Later...

Now for my not-so-cool news.

First off, I spoke with Dad and Larry yesterday. Ma didn’t stay overnight at Larry’s, but they went out to eat and to the cemetery and had an OK time.

However, during my chat with Lisa, she said that she and Tammy had a hell of a time together and that she even felt bad for her mom, cuz of how mom would yell at Tammy. Lisa also said her neighbor got on Tammy’s case for not giving Lisa anything for babysitting her sisters and cleaning the house. Lastly, Tammy bitched to Mom about my hair and drawings and said she checked them out, but said she didn’t care. Yeah, typical jealous, rude Tammy. She can’t even say a simple “thank you” when somebody takes the time to send her something. Instead, she’s got to say nothing at all or crack rude, selfish, jealous comments. Lisa says she even says wisecracks about her singing. Yeah, I know how it is. Tammy loves to cut down others, whether or not they’re good at something.

There’s something wrong with one of Piggy’s eyes. It’s all clear colored and oozing like something punctured it or he has an infection. If it’s a puncture wound, all we can think of is that Bunny accidentally kicked him with one of his sharp, long nails.

Tom said his mother’s not doing so well. She had to have a lot of stuff removed from her face, has a lot of stitches, and the dressings are all bloody. So tomorrow, he has to take her back in to get the bandages changed, then she has to go in Friday. Friday will also be the day they tell her the results of the bone marrow testing they did. Tom says that when you’re dealing with a person her age, they try to hold off discovering anything terminal, so they don’t have to worry or suffer as long.

Meanwhile, she’s at Mary’s house. I don’t know what we’d do without her, since no one else helps much, but this really, really has me worried about Tom. Once again, and at the risk of sounding selfish for us both - he needs to live his life. He needs to slow down and stop being so busy and so rundown. He denies it, but taking care of her runs him down and this is why he’s sick a lot. He says it’s from cigarette smoke. That could be, but I know what lack of sleep can do to a person and now I really see why God has denied us the right to a child. Not just cuz it’d kill me and cuz I couldn’t keep up with it, but cuz he couldn’t either, and it’d kill him. Then, who would take care of his mom? Who would take care of doing things that need to be done around our house? What about our time together? Her needing help around the house and with medical stuff really sucks up a lot of our time and getting things done around here. I don’t want to lose my husband, but I’m afraid she’s gonna end up killing him.

When I asked him why most guys cum way more than he does, he said it’s cuz most guys are lazy, so they still have energy for sex. Well, my husband certainly isn’t lazy, but when will God ever allow him to slow down and spend more time with me? Yes, his busyness and tiredness and sicknesses may be a good part of why we don’t have much sex and why he conks out too early in sex, but I still say a big part of it is God and him. I’ll never believe Tom when he says we’ll have more time, more sex, and a kid and I’ll never believe God gives a shit, either, as long as things stay the way they have been. Like I said, Tom has a point about why he cums so little, but what about the times when he first got up and didn’t cum? What about the times he was home doing not much of anything and didn’t touch me? If he really thinks I’m OK and wants more time, more sex, and a kid, then he better set his priorities straight. Busyness

He says the bed will lead to us feeling more normal, which will lead to more sex, but that’s a laugh. One big fat laugh. Do you know how many times he’s said that? The only thing he was ever right about as far as sex goes is when he said he’d cum in the first place, although that took over two years.

Out of curiosity, I asked Marla if her husband was like him or if he was like the typical male. Sure enough, he thinks of sex all the time and I envy her. I wouldn’t want sex twice a day like she says he does, and I know Tom’s Tom and this is normal for him, but this is not normal compared to your average guy. Once again, why me? Why do I always have to be in such an abnormal and freaky situation be it cuz of something with me or cuz of something with someone I know and am close to? Can’t things ever be normal for me and for him?

He said that he thinks most women who had a problem getting pregnant, would rather not assume something’s wrong and that it’s human nature to turn away from anything negative that could be wrong. But why deny the obvious? Why not deal with it, rather than kid ourselves about it? Is this another reason why he doesn’t want to have sex much, besides the fact that it’s God’s will and fate? Is he afraid of finding out I’m right and not wanting to deal with it? He says he would never want to know something’s wrong with me but isn’t hesitant. Well, he seems awfully hesitant. Like I said, he just doesn’t want sex all that much and has such a low drive. Also, he doesn’t want to deal with me being right, nor does he want to deal with what a kid would bring. I just know this. Year after year, it’ll just be the same old shit and he’ll be telling me the same old thing; that we’ll have time.

We were gonna screw yesterday when he got in, but we were both too tired and who knows when we can screw again, cuz of his mother. I’m sick of God, fate, and others getting in the way of what I want, but there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. All I can do is just sit and accept it and accept the fact that nothing will change. I’ve learned from how badly I wanted a woman and to be a singer. Big dreams just don’t come true for me. There’s nothing to try for or to hope for. I’ve lost. I’ve always been a loser on sex/kid and should I want something else as bad tomorrow, God won’t let me have it. He’ll make sure he, or something, or somebody, stands in my way. All I can do is sit here like some puppet or robot and let God, Tom, and fate dictate my sex life. Not me. But God and others. I have no say in the matter and if I tried to have any say in the matter, I won’t succeed. Even if my sterility was fixable, Tom couldn’t and wouldn’t cum in a cup like he’d have to so they could test him. And God wouldn’t help us, either. This is what I mean by God and others preventing me from the things I really want. It’s hopeless.

Anyway, I’ll be sending my last letter to Bob for I don’t know how long. Stamps don’t come cheap, Bob is a bore, so I’ll just drop him, pick up Paula, and keep writing to Shelly, Kim, and my parents. I don’t save Bob’s and Kim’s letters anymore cuz they write fairly regularly, but I saved Paula’s letter, the one I got from Larry, and Anne and Harry’s, and rare letters like that.