We’re at the Fairfield now, although he’s gone to work. This time we’re in the same suite that was left open the night I popped popcorn in its microwave. It’s nice having the micro, and I just slipped downstairs for about ten packets of hot chocolate, ten spoons, and five cups, not that I’ll have more than 2-3 cups tonight. Yes, this is definitely my favorite hotel, even though I wish we never had to return after tonight.

I did laundry earlier and found that Teresa wasn’t working tonight.

I placed one call to Andy earlier too, but he was on the phone cuz it only rang once before his machine came on. I left him a hang-up, and you know, I thought about it and realized something - he probably can’t get a hotel number after all. Not unless it was a call from their main line, but extensions should come up as unavailable, the more I think about it, on both caller ID boxes and last number calls.

After he gets out of work, he’s gonna go get a shed. They’re coming to pick up the storage bin on Wednesday. Then all we’ll have is our stuff in mini storage to get out.

Just when I thought my slow-starting period was over, I had wicked cramps, so I popped ibuprofen.

Last night at around 9 PM I heard a series of gunshots, the second-worst thing you’d hear out there besides dogs. Well, they certainly weren’t hunting at that hour, so I guess they were shooting stray dogs or coyotes away from their chicken coops.

Tom and I discussed getting a gun with a laser line-up when we get the horses.

I love seeing roadrunners. They’re so cute, and they sure are fast!

There still haven’t been any noise problems in back, and I know they can’t be living there full-time yet. Not only cuz it’s too quiet for anyone to be living there, but because I only see their outside light on at night and no other lights. It’s just too dark for anyone to be living there, quiet or not.

Later...

Although I already feel much better, thank God, the last two days weren’t the least bit pleasant.

First, though, since I’m obviously gonna finish this book before we move in the house, I’m gonna use either journal #77 or #160 to finish out our trailer/hotel stay, cuz they have blank pages.

Tom says I’ll feel better by Friday cuz Friday we should have a handle on what’s going on with the house. That goes with my vibes. I feel that yes, we’ll know more of what the fuck’s going on this week and maybe even be able to pinpoint a move-in date. But luckily for me, as I said a moment ago, I’m already feeling better. For a couple of days, I was not only beat and run down to the point that I could’ve easily slept 16 hours, but I was depressed, too. I was so scared too, cuz it was over the two issues that I spent about 5 years being depressed over, and I began to fear I’d be slipping back in time, depressed regularly. I feared God was gonna compensate me for the house/land by having me be depressed over old issues, but nah. I don’t think he’ll do that to me. He couldn’t be that mean, could he? Let’s hope not!

The first issue took me a while to figure out, but the second one still has me confused.

Issue one - the realization that neither of us has made any attempt to have sex in the last three weeks or so, was rather sad. It shows that due to how long we’ve been together, the love’s grown, but the lust has died. I really think this is why he’s been complimenting my looks too, to cover for his lack of being turned on.

I also realized it’s not the infrequent sex that gets me down and frustrated; it’s the damn lies and excuses. Always the lies and excuses! He just can’t come clean, be honest, be himself, and quit bullshitting me. He is how he is, so why he has to come out and make such bullshit comments like “Sex will be fine for making babies once we get settled in the house,” beats me and it really bothers me. Who does he think he’s kidding? Himself? Me? Not me. Certainly not me. But why oh why does he keep on, year after year, saying he’s gonna be someone he isn’t? It isn’t in him to have full-time sex and to cum regularly. He doesn’t even want to. Instead, he says he’s gonna do shit he’s not gonna do, then makes excuses. Nine of out ten times, as soon as he’s about to cum, he quits and makes excuses. He’s always got a problem. A cramp, an ache, a pain, a cold, exhaustion, etc. I’m so sick of it and he’s being so damn obvious. This is more than fear of making the baby he believes I can conceive. This is someone who’s just not into it and just not very attracted to me. But why can’t he just be honest and not do things he’s uncomfortable about, rather than attempt them just to back out scared, or cuz he just can’t get into it, then pummel me with excuses? Fine - don’t screw me but once or twice a month. And fine - don’t cum but once a year. But by God - cut the bullshit lies and excuses!

Issue two - this is the confusing one. How do you want something you know you don’t want? I know I don’t want a kid. I just don’t want to live that lifestyle. I don’t want to trade in dolls for diapers and deal with all a child entails; the stress, burden, responsibility, cost, loss of freedom, etc. I don’t want the tremendous strain it’d put on our marriage. We’d only bicker over it and then we really wouldn’t have a life or much time together.

Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but wonder about it. I’m so curious about this thing I can never have, but I know that want it or not, I can never have it and I could never handle it. If it was meant to be, it would’ve been by now - naturally. It’s better to always remain curious about what it’d have been like to carry/have a child than to live out those experiences and deal with the misery it’d bring. After my curiosity was settled, I’d have only been overwhelmed and miserable for years and years. I have no tolerance or patience for kids.

No amount of sex or in vitro could ever lead to a kid. It ain’t in my cards, but despite my curiosity and how it sometimes gets me down that God didn’t give me the free will to decide about having kids, his making a child not a part of my destiny is a damn good thing for me. Probably the best thing next to making Tom a part of my life/destiny. Having a life and having the freedom that I do is exactly what I need. Things turned out for the best and I’m glad they turned out as they did.

I forgot to say that as for the sex - I have no desire to get what I’m not getting in the marriage with another woman, but I am getting more and more turned off and am losing interest more and more with each passing year. His lack of enthusiasm and his constant excuses really kill my drive.

So what am I gonna do? The only thing I can do - put up with his excuses when we screw every few weeks, and accept that I can never have a child, want one or not, under any circumstances, no matter how advanced technology is.

For a while, I didn’t want to discuss it cuz I’ve learned it’s useless to discuss the things we can’t change and I didn’t want to bicker about it or have him BS me in any way, but I finally agreed to spill it out after he promised not to talk so as to avoid fighting. He knows I don’t want to hear the same BS he’s been telling me for six years now - that he wants to screw full-time, that we will screw full-time, that he will cum regularly, and that I’ll magically conceive someday when I know damn good and well that this is all bullshit. These things can’t and won’t happen. Fine. I accept it and am OK with it. What I’m not OK with are his lies and excuses.

He kept his promise and quietly let me bitch, but was that a look of boredom on his face I saw? A look of not-this-shit-again? Even a pleased look? Why do I feel that the more I’m turned off, the more he’s turned on?

He explained to me that it’s normal for everyone to have cycles of happiness and depression and that certain issues only seem to be getting me down when all it really is is just a case of me being down. It wouldn’t depress you if I died? I asked him. Yes, he said, but if I died during a happier cycle of his, it wouldn’t affect him as deeply as it would if I died during a shitty time for him when he was already feeling down.

Well, I just pray to God that I never ever go through years of wanting a child again! I don’t ever want to want a child!!!!! Ever! For a woman to go through years of depression over that is practically inhumane.