Saturday, October 3, 1998

I’d have a nearly perfect husband if it weren’t for his lying. First he says he blasts TVs and computer games cuz I talk over it, and now it’s cuz he’s got wax in his ears. The truth is that he wants to annoy me. It’s that obvious. Then when I asked him why he hadn’t done anything about this wax or asked for my help, his lame excuse was that I get very impatient with doing his ears, which is BS.

Weeks ago I asked him to please trim the tree/hedges out front, which I know he won’t do. So then why can’t he just admit it? Why can’t he just say he doesn’t want to do it rather than say every single fucking week that he’ll do it?

He’s still lying about cumming. I mean he hasn’t come out and said that he’s cum, but when I imply that he has, he doesn’t deny it. He doesn’t admit to not cumming. Doesn’t he know that this is what I want, though? If he’s just as content to not cum, then it’s best that he doesn’t because then there’s no need to deal with the mess it makes. I understand his reasons for not cumming - neither of us wants a kid, but I don’t understand his need to hide this from me. Or think he’s hiding the truth from me, anyway.

The closer I get to my appointment, the surer I am that I won’t be seeking out fertility testing. Not just because my curiosity’s dying, but because I’m not gonna go in there with a lying husband at my side. I may be able to get the same results I’d get if he did let them have his cum, but I’m not going in there playing games, either. I always firmly believed that if you’re gonna seek help about something, you should be as honest as you can, or else people can’t help you as well.

He’s not the only one with a problem here. It’s not that I can’t cum, it’s that it’s gotten harder for me to cum and I prefer to get off on my own. It’s easier that way. But every time we screw these days, it’s so obvious that neither of us is into it. Last night I felt like I was making love with an 80-year-old man. He huffed and puffed away having no stamina, wasn’t even fully hard, went about it as if it was a big chore, and just wasn’t one bit into it. I wish, though, that he hadn’t bothered, cuz now all that fucking irritation’s back.

Why does he have to lie so much? Why does he lie and say he’s horny all the time? We’ll have plenty of time today and tomorrow for sex. Well, not that I want sex cuz I’m hardly ever horny these days and am not afraid to admit the truth, but do you think he’s gonna initiate sex today or tomorrow? No fucking way. He wouldn’t want that. TV is his sex, so to speak.

I just wish he’d stop lying about what he really wants/likes, and I wish he’d stop saying he was gonna do things he doesn’t want or intend to do.

Later…

Lisa just called all freaked out about her ex-boyfriend. Fortunately, this dude doesn’t go to the same school as she does, but she’s worried that his brother will bring him to her house to kick her ass for “talking shit” about her. Lisa told me she told him that if she had anything to say to him, she’d say it to his face, and doesn’t want to call Tammy, saying it’s her problem. I reminded her that it’s OK to ask for help at times, although I understand one wanting to fight their own battles. She said she was sure he could hurt her. I told her that if she makes up her mind that he can, then he can. I told her not to call him, to hang up on him if he calls, and to cut him off completely if he’s gonna threaten her and behave like this, but not to think she automatically can’t defend herself if need be. She said she didn’t want to carry a knife around for the rest of her life and I told her she has two fists, so she doesn’t need to. I told her to call the cops if he showed up at the door and to stand her ground and fight back if he went after her. She’s got to stop telling herself she’s this defenseless thing or else she’ll believe it and really be defenseless.

Later…

The red car’s been in and out and so has the dark blue car. Who’s next, Joebitch?

Later…

Our little lisp bitch has done well today so far. Hardly any door slamming.

You know, I often find her looking towards the house as if hoping I’d come out. It’s like she wants to catch a glimpse of me. Obviously, she doesn’t know that I know she tried having me served, cuz if she did, wouldn’t she be a wee bit too embarrassed to face me?

I hate it when I think of things when I’m not writing on the computer and I make a mental note to write about it but then forget it.

I hope Lisa will be OK. Statistically speaking, she will be, but there are teenage girls who do get killed by their sick ex-boyfriends. Ain’t it sad to know that she and her sisters will probably never know the love that I know? Most human beings will never know the love Tom and I have for each other. Yes, there are some things I don’t like about him, as none of us are perfect, and I bitch about these things, but it’s like I’m being compensated for all the abusive, sick, assholes I was exposed to before meeting Tom.

I wonder a lot lately - why is God being so nice to me? You’d think I’d have some serious compensation vibe, but I don’t. I’m sure my luck will run out eventually, but still, why’s he being so nice? He’s blessed me with a husband like Tom, let my impossible baby dream die off, and given me peace and quiet. I’ve never felt this relaxed and happy in all my life. He let me off the cigarettes, and I finally accepted that I’ll always be between 115-120 pounds, and my one remaining dream, which is a material dream (moving), is inevitable.

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