Just went out and threw some food out for Gophie. Haven’t seen that snake since I first saw it. I guess it moved on.

Freddie’s gotten to be the fattest mouse I ever had and he’s so lazy, too. I wonder if he doesn’t have tumors.

Anyway, maybe there are still some hard feelings toward Tom. God, all the problems with sex. Sex, sex, sex! Always sex-related! I’m so fucking sick of it! Eliminate all the fights over sex and having a kid and we’d hardly ever fight. At least we don’t fight nearly as much as we used to since I became OK with not having a kid. He’s not only lied about why he doesn’t cum and about wanting a kid, but he also lied about cumming back when I tricked him by playing dumb and commenting on how he came regularly. He was caught red-handed, yet he still had the gall to lie to my face. So, he’s already proven that he’s capable of lying when it’s in his best interest. Aside from his lying about sex and a kid, I appreciate him for a million reasons, but does he fully appreciate me? I’ve done a lot more than just save him time by doing his laundry and cleaning the house. Do you know how many women would’ve left him because of the sex, and mostly because they couldn’t have a child with him? He, right along with God, has taken so much from me, regardless of if I’m OK with it. Not that I desire to leave him or cheat on him, but I’m doomed to a life of shitty sex, when he wants it, how whatever’s up there wants it, with no regard for what I may want, and God help me if I ever want a kid again. Yes, God would see to it that I miscarried as many times as they did an implant in me if I had invitro, but do I really think Tom would ever let me get that far? Right! I’m sure he’d either refuse to cum or tamper with it if he did. If I never mentioned a kid again, neither would he for as long as he lived.

I’m also a little tired of his getting so defensive over simple little comments I may make. Last night I offered to have sex, but he wasn’t in the mood. It wasn’t the weekend. All I said was, “Yeah, I know you’re a weekend kind of guy,” and he was like, “Yeah, well, let me be me.”

Now what did that comment have to do with him being him? All I did was make an observation. Not demand he be somebody else. As far as dominating and controlling the sex, he sure is your average, normal male! Thank God he doesn’t want it just about every day like most males do! That’d really drive me crazy.

Anyway, the reaction to my comment and to a test I ran him through is what upset me most. I said I was thinking of experimenting with calling the gay lines just to see what his reaction would be. Sure enough, he was against it. So, he can do what he wants sexually, but I can’t. It’s amazing he even goes down on me at times. Nonetheless, I would never step out on him and I know it’s a good thing that he objected, and I figured as much, but I just had to see it anyway.

My sex life isn’t over just because of him and his boring bullshit. It’s cuz of me. I just have no interest anymore. The only thing that interests me is to close my eyes and imagine a woman down there while I use the vibrator and this isn’t nearly as often as it used to be, either. It’s just that when you’re dealing with fantasy, and I’ve always felt this way, there are no problems. The vibrator could break, but it doesn’t lie to me and play games. It doesn’t make me feel controlled, manipulated or cheated out of things that should rightfully be mine. So, I guess I was wrong to say I was over my hard feelings towards Tom. Perhaps I never will be and perhaps this is the one thing I can never ever forgive him for. I’m going to try my damnedest, though, not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how I feel, even though I’ve told him. I just don’t want to let it show if I can help it. I’ll just go along with him and let him dictate when and how we have sex. I still could do without a kid, and at the same time I have hard feelings, I want him to be happy and do what he wants more than I want him to change to suit me.

I feel this is more than just a case of his not cumming because he doesn’t want the expense and responsibility of a child and because he doesn’t think I could handle a child (even though he denies all this). I think it’s also about arrogance and stubbornness. It’s like a competition to him that he’s determined to stick to and win. It’s almost like he’s been saying to me all these years, “You got your way with this, this and that, and you’re not getting your way with this one.”

Fine Tom. Just remember - the next time you say you’re bothered by how you are - do something about it or don’t mention it at all.

It’s important that I note that for every time he’s lied about sex and a kid, he’s done and said thousands of wonderful things. I love this man dearly, despite his flaws, and I couldn’t imagine life without him. Even if I returned to wanting a kid really bad and knew I could conceive by a man who’d cum regularly and was attracted to men in general, I’d still give that up in the name of love. I love Tom enough to give up anything I may want that I can’t have with him for whatever the reason may be. I only wish that he’d be honest about things. He should’ve told me up front that he was against cumming and a kid. I still would’ve loved him and stayed with him.

Now, after nearly 7 years of this sexual shit, I’m SICK TO DEATH OF IT!!! So, hopefully, you won’t be hearing much about it from me from here on out. I’m fated for the sex to be how it has been for the rest of my life. Period. Why cry over spilled milk?

Later...

This is just too damn weird! I usually get up around 10:00 these days, but I’ve been up since 7:30 today. That’s because I had a dream someone was knocking on the door and got up and checked to be sure and couldn’t fall back asleep. I didn’t see anyone, and I was sure it was just a dream seeing that I’ve had dreams like this before and how early it was, but now I don’t know. Surprisingly enough, it turns out that Tom had that same exact dream at 2:30 in the morning, 6 hours after going to bed, just like me. I can’t find any other common denominators, though. He said he was sure his was a dream because it didn’t sound real and because of the hour, but this sure is a bizarre coincidence, not to mention the footsteps I could’ve sworn I heard inside the house. Although the animals could’ve easily made this sound, shortly after he went to bed, I went and vegged out in bed with coffee. Well, he sometimes shuffles his feet when he walks. Especially if he’s tired. I could’ve sworn I heard him come shuffling out into the kitchen and fumble around with something in there, be it a glass or whatever, but he says it wasn’t him. If our dreams weren’t dreams, then who the hell would be knocking at the door at such odd hours and why? Burglars don’t make any sense because 2:30 in the morning just isn’t the time to go breaking into houses unless you want to risk getting killed. At 7:30, someone could’ve seen that the car was gone, but if they knocked with plans of breaking in if no one answered, why didn’t they? I peeked out the window cuz I can see the stairs from there. I didn’t see anyone, any fresh tracks, or any cars, so who knows if our dreams were just dreams or not? It’s a hell of a coincidence, though.

The first thing I think when I think of knocks on the door is - oh, no. Somebody did something to the blacks or Mexicans and they don’t know who did, so they’re conveniently naming me just to get at me and just to punish somebody for whatever shit happened to them. 

These people are sick enough to do something like that, and besides, this world is so black and white, lacking fairness and gray, balanced areas. Meaning that where whites once had more rights than minorities; now it’s the other way around. You think Mr. Biased would jump to defend a white person being harassed by a black or a Mexican? Somehow, I don’t think so.