I didn’t get the chance to write yesterday as we spent all day at Ma’s house. We left here at around 9:15 and returned at 4:30. We didn’t get the washer moved into the house or the gardening done, but Tom made major progress on the pipes. I even helped by sawing a pipe.

Ma and I chatted and she even did a puzzle from my word find book. I left it over there for her. She could use something like that to occupy her time.

For lunch, Ma got her and me some Chinese food, and Tom got something else.

Cindy stopped over at some point too, and chatted with us.

Amazingly, Ma didn’t mention Nickolena. She did tell me a rather scary story that seems oh so typical of something God would do. This woman wanted a kid for a long time, had a miscarriage, then at age 35 she was pregnant again and an ultrasound found a tumor on the baby’s brain. It’s always the ones who want kids that have to deal with such problems. I’m sure this was a stable, drug-free, and decent woman, too. Tom says it’s something we shouldn’t worry about if I got pregnant cuz that’s very, very rare. Oh, yeah? Well, I’m a magnet for rarity. How many people have had our past sex life? How many people can’t keep a schedule? How many people have this kind of tooth impaction? How many people have one ear?

God always seems to work the same way. He either never lets you have what you want, or if he does, he makes sure there are major problems with it and that it’s nothing like how you hoped it’d be.

I should’ve stuck to my plan of not watching TV, cuz last night I saw another classic example of how God gives you life if you take life. I saw a true story of a guy who killed his parents and his brother. Yes, he went to jail for life for it, but what else did he get for it? A kid, naturally. Then I went to turn the TV on again later and the first thing I hear is all about a woman discussing how her son visits daddy in prison. It’s sick. It really is. And every other commercial is still all about kids, babies, and pregnancy.

What more is God gonna take from me? First he took my childhood. Then made my adult life before meeting Tom a living hell and made sure there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Then he took other dreams I had had along the way. Then he took control over my own body and took my right to have a child. All cuz I’m not a killer. Or causing other serious trouble.

Well, let’s just say I’m finding it awfully hard to just lay down and take it and even to stop hating God so much.

Regardless of my sterility, the only other concerns of mine are how serious Tom is about a child and how often he’ll cum. I still get the feeling I’m being teased and that he’d rather not cum that much, be tired and make sure we don’t hit it right. For how long this will go on, if my feeling is right about this, I don’t know. Hopefully not long. I need more than anything right now, to get to the point where he, too, sees that I’m as sterile as can be, so he can better help me to get on with life and then hope to work on getting through life without all these bitter emotions I’ve been feeling.

I haven’t felt any pre-cramps yet, but I will any time now. I’m about 9 days away from my period. My tits are really sore, though, so I’m definitely as non-pregnant as I knew I was, cuz I don’t see how anyone’s tits can be this sore unless their body’s gearing up for a period.

I was surprised at something Tom said yesterday. I took my journal over to Ma’s and left it there when we went to the store for parts while she was in church. Then I left it there again while Ma was there and we were out getting lunch. Tom asked me, “So what horrible things have you written about me?” 

Then he told me he didn’t know if his family could’ve stopped by to read it while no one was there or if his ma could’ve read some of it while we were out, but I can’t picture any of his family members checking it out. Then he insisted that I say and write bad things about him every day. If that were true of me, then why’d he marry me and why is he still with me? Why’s he so paranoid? Obviously, there’s a damn good chance he is reading my journals, cuz he is a very sensitive guy and he would take a lot of the things I say about him as being negative. I only write what I really feel and believe. In the end, I may’ve been right and I may’ve been wrong, but still, I’ll write whatever I want to in my journals, like I said.

Well, today’s Veteran’s Day which is a lot like Memorial Day and Labor Day, so I expect it to be very noisy around here today. Tom says there won’t be anything going on next door, but I disagree. I hear music playing at a low and reasonable volume, but I know what this means - party.

Later...

Next door’s music didn’t last long at all. It was so soft, though, that I think it was coming from inside their place and not the car, cuz it wasn’t very bassy at all.

Just a few minutes ago, when I was in the bathroom, I thought I heard the car start, but I didn’t hear any music or the sound of them driving out, but I’ve heard that before, so who knows? I think these people are definitely more like night folks, and I still wouldn’t be surprised if they party heartily, even though I hope I’m dead wrong.

Anyway, Tom and I agreed that he could have two sick days a month from our job. I can only imagine which days he’ll pick, too, but once again, I hope I’m dead wrong. Why else would I have these feelings, though? Is it pure paranoia on my part due to being fucked over by all kinds of people in the past? Anyway, I’m just gonna go with what I feel and hope I’m wrong.

He had a sick day yesterday cuz he only slept for about 4 hours the night before and had worked all day at his mom’s. So, he went to bed at 6 PM and I thought he’d sleep for about 10-12 hours, but he got up really early. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t quite sleep for 8 hours. I know he can set alarm clocks in his head. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s doing this.

He left for Eldon’s just after 8:00 this morning and will probably be back sometime in the mid-afternoon. It works out perfectly for him, cuz by the time he gets in, eats, digests, and then we have sex, he’ll be nice and tired. It’s definitely no joke that he can’t get off when he’s tired. It seems that way, anyway.

I told him last night that in exchange for playing hooky, I’d like for him to get off December 2nd-6th. He said he’ll do his best, but it’s not in his control. A degree of it may be in his control, but he’s got a point. It’s in God’s control. Life isn’t what we make it. Life is what God makes it for us. I just wish I knew why he won’t let us get to that 3rd step. You know, the one where Tom becomes a believer, too, in my sterility. It seems he doesn’t want Tom to know what I know. Why? What’s he waiting for? I guess it’s just another way of teasing me and torturing my mind, body, and soul. There really is no getting help at all from God, is there? You’d think that after denying me a child, the least he could do would be to help get me through and over that, but no.

Later...

I’m kind of bored now and missing Tom. It figures he’s fucking late. Once again, fine that he helps others, fine that we’re getting a nice monitor, but what about stuff here? What about cleaning the oven like he promised months ago? What about the yard? What about putting my stereo cover back on? What about putting the part in the living room wall heater? What about the rest of the back room? What about his cumming every day like he says he can? What about the sound blocks? He’s never gonna have the energy to get off tonight. I still feel like I feel most of the time. That his helping others is more important and that sex comes last.

I keep trying to remind myself it doesn’t matter when he cums and how often, cuz I’m sterile, but it does. I need Tom to see the truth, so he can help me get through this better. Telling me we’re gonna have a kid isn’t helping me, whether he knows it or not. It’s lying to me. And why is it OK for him to tell me he’s sure of certain things and judge me by my past and I can’t?

He says it irks him if I say we “will” or we “won’t” have a kid, cuz he swears we can never know what the future holds as far as anything goes. But he says we “will” have a kid. Then he insists that he says we’ll have a kid cuz I demand him to. Bull. Most of the time he says so on his own. I thanked him for telling me what he thought I’d want to hear and not what he believed, but he swears he does believe it.

Later...

Tom finally got in about a half-hour ago and man this monitor’s nice! Twice as nice as our old one before we got all the lines in it. I’ve got to see if I can call Tammy to rub it into her. We definitely do have a nicer monitor.