Damaged Goods

I cried tonight. It's been a while. Six months to be exact. That's the funny thing about running away from yourself. Eventually, you catch up...

You see, I'm sick.

One of the many gifts The Ex left me. Besides an enormous amount of debt and countless commitment issues; our dramatic and painful marriage left me with an immune disorder. Incurable. Unpredictable. And totally mine to deal with.

I rarely think about it. I talk about it even less.

I've been having symptoms lately. Nothing horrid. I can handle it. I always can. I always do. The part I'm having a hard time handling is the The Lonely. It creeps up on me at times like this. When it knows I'm at my most vulnerable. To remind me of who I was, where I've been and what happened to me as a result.

I've never been the type of person to ask for help. I don't like to impose my issues, or pain on others. I'm an isolator. Before moving to The Plex, I had spent most of my time alone. Since my divorce the only people I've allowed near me have been the occasional men I chose to date.


Unfortunately I didn't choose wisely. Since most of my marriage was centered around The Ex and his issues; you would think that I would have learned my lesson. I didn't. During a time where I had every right to be selfish and concentrate on me, I decided to choose the worst type of men to be with. Between Huge Assholes insecurities and Nutty as a Fruitcakes soul sucking need for constant attention I was left with little to zero support for me. If I was feeling ill, I would hide it from them. It was lonely but what other choice did I have? How is a person who has issues with asking for help ask for attention from whiny soul sucking dicks?

Huge Asshole was with me when I had to go for my third MRI. He had slept over and was still snug in my bed as I was getting ready for my appointment. I was sitting in front of my mirror putting on my makeup the whole time fighting back the tears.



I hated this. The doctors. The machines. The needles. Not because of the process. That I could handle. I hated it because it was a reminder that I wasn't ok. That I was damaged. That I was weak.



I went over to the bed to give Huge Asshole a kiss goodbye.


"Your leaving?" he mumbles.

"Yep," I replied.



"Did you want me to come?" he asks, eyes still closed.



"No, it's fine. I'll call you after," I told him.



Satisfied with my answer he rolled over and went back to sleep.


I was lying ofcourse. I absolutely wanted him to come. I wanted someone to be there with me. I wanted to be driven and taken care of and reminded that I wasn't alone. Most of all I wanted him to know all these things without me having to ask for it.



I made excuses for him all the way to the hospital. I blamed myself for not asking him. I blamed myself for not telling him how all of this made me feel...

I was alone the first time I was diagnosed. I was alone during the subsequential testing and huge doses of drugs afterwards as well. The Ex always offered to come. I would always decline. It was never a fight. He would ask, I would reply no, and that was that. A quick kiss and, "let me know how it goes babe," was all he ever gave me.


I would make excuses for him too. He needed to work. I was strong. This was my problem and I would take care of it. Alone. He offered, I said no, so it was my fault he wasn't with me...




That's how I use to think. You know what I realize now? All of that is total bullshit! If the tables had been turned, I would have been there. I wouldn't have asked. I would have been in the car ready to go with the fucking engine running...



When I met Nutty, I thought I had finally met someone who cared. About me. He was so attentive! He worshiped me. If I was upset he wouldn't leave my side until he knew I felt better.



One night I had been exhausted, this was before we had slept together, and Nutty had tucked me into bed. He curled up next to me and played with my hair until I drifted off to dream land. Then he got up, turned off the lights and showed himself out.



"Wow!" I thought the next day. "Here's a guy who cares about me. Here's a guy who will take care of me."



The following winter I caught a cold which was piggy backed by bronchitis and then mutated itself into what I'm pretty sure was the Swine flu. One of the many side effects of my shitty immunity. A little sick because a lot within hours. I had a 103 degree fever for 3 days straight. I was deathly ill for a week.



The first day I was sick I had driven home with a 101 degree temperature. I had just got home and collapsed on my couch when Nutty called.



"Ahhh, Pee-Shee joon. Come over. I'll take care of you!" he tells me.


"Pee-Shee joon" means "Kitty Love", more or less, in Farsi. It was one of his many, and favorite nicknames for me. I'm not exactly sure why, but men have always compared me to a cat. My face, the noises I make, the way I stretch and lounge have all driven them to see a resemblance to those finicky felines. I'm sure my attitude may have a little something to do with it as well. That's cool. Cat's are aloof little bitches. I can deal with that.

"Dude, I can't. I just want to sleep. I almost ran off the road on my way home," I said to him.



"Come on...come on Pee-Shee. Come to me! Come to me. Come,"he begins to repeat over and over again. He loves to call to me like I'm an animal. The weirdo actually started to whistle.



"That's not going to work dude," I tell him, too fevered to care if I'm being an ass. "Cat's don't respond to being called to. They come when they want."



And right now, I don't want, so leave me the hell alone and let me sleep asshole.



But he wouldn't take no for an answer. His car was in the shop so he wasn't able to pick me up. His roommate wouldn't be off for another couple of hours and considering Mr Selfish Bastard wanted me with him right that second the only option was for me to drive to him.


I finally gave in. I was worried about being sick and alone. Atleast he was offering and being persistent about it right? It showed he cared. So I dragged myself off my couch, threw on some outdoor PJ's and by a miracle of god I somehow made it to his apartment in one piece.


Part of me was excited. For the first time someone was putting me first. I was ill and he wanted me to be with him. He wanted to take care of me. I was going to be able to stay at his apartment and enjoy someones nurturing care for once...Or so I thought.


The guy almost killed me.


Where do I begin? I was at his house for 3 or 4 days. I'm not exactly sure how long. I was more than a little out of it. My fever never let up during that time. I was in so much pain. My every move made my body ache and throbe. That didn't stop Nutty. Every chance he got he would still wrap me into his anaconda like embrace and suffocate me into cuddling submission. I told him my body hurt. I told him I was hot. But he didn't care. He loved me. He wanted to hold me. He was certain that his overpowering affection would cure me. I was too weak to push him off so I slept the best I could with his massive Leech like arms painfully wrapped around me.


All I wanted was to cool down! One of the days I asked Nutty if he would take a cold wet wash cloth and wipe me down with it. My mom used to do that for me when I was little and fevering and it always did the trick.


He wouldn't do it! Not because he didn't think it would work but because the wet wash cloth grossed him out. You heard me. My gay ass ex boyfriend didn't want to touch the yucky wash cloth! So instead he gave it to me and held me as I very unsuccessfully tried to wipe my own body down around his massive body. Unbelievable.



I thought that would be worse of it until one day he had the bright idea to use a few pumps of hand sanitizer to disinfect my mouth.



"I know what will help!" he announced proudly, right before pumping 5 pumps of gel into his hand and promptly smearing it onto my nose and mouth.



It was horrible!! I couldn't breath! I choked and gagged, each new breath sending the searing eye watering alcohol deeper into my lungs.



"He's trying to kill me!" I thought. "And no one knows where I am. I'm going to be smothered to death by a doe eyed underwear model!"



That's when I first knew. He and I would never last. We couldn't.


There would be times I would get sick. Times where I wouldn't be able to hide it or take care of myself. Was this really the person I wanted to be there with me? Sure he would offer to help but at what price? You have to give the guy credit though. It's not often a person can figure out how to be a selfless needy retarded bastard all at the same time...



Three relationships. All leaving me feeling even more alone than if I was actually...alone. It sucks to be in pain and have to deal with it by yourself. But I do it. Because for most of my life that's the way it has had to be.



I do realize things are different now, but I still can't ask for help. I know I'm not alone anymore. My roomies at The Plex love me. They would be here for me. One word to Hippie Chick about my ailments and she would put the boys to work to help ease my pain immediately.


But I won't ask. I won't impose. I'll deal with this on my own because that's what I've done since my family left the state. I take care of me.



Than there is The Rocker. I know I should say something to him. I know I should share. He isn't selfish. He isn't needy. He would be concerned and would do anything he could to help ease my pain.



But I can't. I'm afraid. I don't want him to think of me as damaged goods. It's bad enough I'm divorced. I don't really feel the need to add the illness bomb to the equation.


I should come with a warning label, "Beware!! If you date this broad you will be Blogged about and dissected for the world to read, you will have to deal with her multiple exes and their incessant cameos and oh did we mention?! She's damaged goods. Divorcee, and a diseased whore!"



Ok. maybe I'm exaggerating a bit. Whatever. I'm not feeling well so I'm allowed.



I'm sure I'll feel better in the morning. I usually do. I can deal with what comes.


The question is, can The Rocker? Do I share more details of what I go through or do I wait? When is it the right time to get real in a relationship?


I think it's too soon. I know I won't have to worry about him not wanting to deal like Huge Asshole or him turning into an overpowering needy bastard like Nutty. God there is nothing worse than having to comfort someone else because your in pain.


It's too soon because we are still in the beginning stages of our love. He said it himself. A few weeks ago he was sick and refused to let me come over. Partially because he didn't want to get me sick but also because he didn't want me to feel the need to take care of him.


"Its too soon for you to have to do that," he told me. "I'm disgusting right now, give me a few days and I'll get better."


I was hurt. I told him so later. I told him, "If you think its too soon for me to take care of you when your was sick than it was too soon for me to say that I loved you. Because that's what you do when you love someone. You take care of them."


Not because they ask. But because you love them and wouldn't have it any other way.



He felt bad after I said that. I felt worse. If he wanted to be alone, I was ok with that. I wasn't afraid that he didn't love me. Or that he would think that I didn't love him.


I was afraid that I would get sick one day. That I would want to ask him for help but hesitate because I would remember his words,"It's too soon for you to have to do that...."


I hate asking for help. I hate to appear weak. I hate to be a drain. But that's what I am. I may appear to be strong. I work hard at it. Men have tried to break me down. Girls have pushed their insecurities upon me and tried to taunt me into argument's. Nothing phases me. Because I've been through worse. I took care of it. I took care of me.



But I know the truth. My past and the dramas of the present have little effect on me because I know that the worse is yet to come. I don't know when. I'm not sure how. But it will. One day I won't have a choice. I'll have to ask for help. I'll have to find someone to take care of me.


Will The Rocker want to be apart of that? If it's too soon for me to take care of him when he has a cold what happens when I can't walk for a while? When the doctors force me to take the body altering drugs that I've up to now refused to digest? What if I temporarily go blind? All of these are possibilities and realities. Would he want to be apart of that?



I can't ask. I won't. It's too soon for those questions.

For now, I'm ok. Just a few random symptoms that I can't help but blow up into life altering dramas. That's what I do. I exaggerate. I stretch. I pull. I predict.



I guess there is one thing I can miss about being single. Bouncing around from guy to guy and dealing with their insanities had provided a nice distraction from my past.


I've spent so much time trying to figure out who I should be these last 6 months that I forgot who I was.



Now I remember. I'm the girl who takes care of me. So for now, that's who I'll be.


I think I should share more with you Dear Reader. About my past. About who I was. Who I've been. I think it will help. Both of us.


I may not start at the beginning. I may bounce around a bit. But when all is said and done, you will know. You will know the origins of this Super Hero.


But for now, it's back to the Bat Cave for me. I need to sleep.


WCC

Book 2: Poisoned Arrows

I'm beginning to think that I've never been in love before...

I know you think I'm being dramatic. I'm aware I have a habit of dramatizing certain aspects of my life for your enjoyment as well as my own personal vanity. However, in this case, I swear that's not what I'm doing. I'm serious. I'm seriously questioning. Were my feelings for those who entered my life in the past real or just a byproduct of their unyielding love and devotion to me? Did I feel it, or did I simply allow them to talk me into it?

I don't want to belittle my past relationships but I'm having a hard time remembering one instance where I felt love, real unwavering down to the depths of my soul love, for the person I was with...before they felt it for me.

I remember my first boyfriend. I met him when I was 16 years old. I had just started dating the year before and was enjoying playing the field. That's probably where I developed my legendary self restraint. I was a kid and loved being one. I just wanted to date and smooch on a few cute boys. Sex never crossed my mind and having a boyfriend seemed unnecessary and silly. I guess some things never change...

I met My First at a pay phone in Redondo Beach. I was calling another guy with Daria and a second girlfriend in tow. The plan was for the guys to pick us up and take us to a house party. While we were waiting a 3 car caravan full of dudes pulled up next to us. They had seen us waiting by the phones, and decided to pull over and hit us up. Oh the 90's. The era of beepers and boulevard cruising...

One of the drivers got my number and a few dates later he was trying to lock me down as his one and only. I made the girlfriend/boyfriend titles almost impossible to acquire and the I love yous all but in impossible to utter. I didn't want either but he was so persistent about both. I finally gave into the titles and a few months later gave away my chastity as well. But even after all that the words, "I love you" never crossed my mouth. He held back too. I suppose he didn't want to ruin the progress he had made with me. Until one day, out of no where, I decided to say it.

I'm not sure why I did. I wasn't feeling it. It's not that I didn't care for him. I did. But there were things about him that bothered me.

When we first met I wasn't interested. I mean the guy was a total cupid! A baby face. So not my thing. He was over 6 feet tall which was nice, but he was much to muscular for me. I've always been more of a tall lean type of girl. Not really into the beefy thing. And he was much to sweet and sensitive. I like my men to be men. Let me be the girly one. He hardly spoke in public. Not shy, just quiet. I hated being the spokesperson in our relationship.

But what he did have going for him was his total love and unchecked devotion to me. He thought I was wonderful and treated me accordingly. I mean what's not to love about that? So I eventually said the words. I grabbed him by the face one day and pulled him to me and said, "I love you."

His reaction surprised me. He gasped. Actually gasped! I remember him pulling me into his arms and saying, with much more passion then I had been able to muster, "I love you too!"

The guy teared up. He actually cried! Did I mention he was almost 20? Leave it to me to find a six packed, yoked up, sensitive pretty boy, VIRGIN, to fall in love with me.

I remember thinking that I should be crying too. Shouldn't I be filled with the same warmth and passion that he was exuding from every pore in his body? The problem was, I wasn't.

I eventually got there. I eventually loved him just as deeply as he loved me. Or did I? Does it still count if you eventually learn to love someone because they love you?

The Ex told me he loved me first. It wasn't nearly as sweet of a moment. He was a very matter of fact kind of guy. A real mans man. He simply said, "I love you man. I know I do."

Funny. I don't even remember when I said it back. I know it wasn't immediate...

Wait! I do remember! I said it to him during sex. I planned it. I wanted to say the words during a moment of passion. Wow. It's all coming back to me now. The only way I was able to duplicate the same type emotional energy My First had displayed to me during his I love yous for The Ex was by faking it with a pseudo I love you orgasm. That's what I gave The Ex. Fake passion clouded by my pheromones. And it worked. He bought it. And eventually, so did I.

Huge Asshole was next. He loved me very early on. Lord knows I was in no place to be feeling anything as deep as love for someone at the time. I remember the first time he said it to me. Well he didn't say so much as attack me with his feelings.

We were sitting in my car. We had just left a wedding. His fathers actually. He had married for the second time to a women he had met on Match.com the year before. No shit.

I was a hit. To this day I still talk to several of his family members in England. He was so in love with me that night! I was dressed to the nines as usual. Everyone in the room couldn't stop gushing over me or us. He had me out on the dance floor for most of the night...gazing into my eyes and singing softly in my ear. It was so unlike him! For the first time in our 2 month courtship I stopped. I saw him. I saw that he was looking at me the way the others had. The way My First had so regularly and the way The Ex would when he thought I wasn't looking. He made me notice him and acknowledge that there might be something more here than just a good time. Up to this point I had been enjoying the fact that I could relax with him without having to worry about either of us falling for eachother. This night made me hesitate.

We got into an argument in my car after the wedding. He was frustrated. With me. Apparently his uncle had pulled him aside at some point during the night and told him, "Your in love with that girl."

"No no. We just started dating recently," he told him.

"Look at me," his uncle told him. "You. Are. In. Love. With that girl."

His words made Huge Asshole pause. He stopped arguing. Until he was alone with me. We argued for over an hour until it finally came out. The words he finally realized he needed to say to me.

I still remember the pain in his voice when he yelled, "Why won't you just let me fucking love you!?"

I was speechless. I didn't know what to say. I mean what would I say to something like that?

I knew I didn't love him. Not the way he loved me. I wasn't ready. Besides the fact I was only a few months out from my separation from The Ex, the guy was 8 years my junior! What was I supposed to do with that? How could I responsibly love him? How was that fair? I had lived so much of my life already and he was just getting started. I didn't want to show someone the world. I wanted to be with someone who could show me the world I hadn't seen yet. I didn't want to start over with someone. I wanted to include myself into someones life who was already living.

"Look," I said to him. "I care for you. I really do. But you have to understand. I'm in the middle of a divorce. Which means technically I'm still married. How am I supposed to have a boyfriend when I still have a husband?"

He calmed down a bit. I continued trying to sooth the storm I could see churning inside of him.

"I don't want to say anything I don't mean. All I can tell you is that I'm really happy with you. Everything is simple and easy and sweet. I'm just going through something right now and it's taking everything I have to hold myself together. I don't want to pull you into this," I finish.

"I understand," he replies. "It was just frustrating tonight to hear him say that and know that you pull back from me so much. I just want...forget it. Nevermind."

I sigh and pull him to me. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to ease his pain. The pain caused by me. He didn't understand that at the time, I didn't know how to allow myself to be loved...or how to love someone else freely in return.

Again, it took time. It was hard. We argued and broke up several times. It's difficult loving someone who doesn't love you in return. But he stuck it out and poured his emotional energy on me until I eventually did feel something. I grabbed onto that feeling and twisted it into what I yearned for it to be. I turned it into love. For him. To make him happy. I told him I loved him...Right after we had broken up for the 5th time since the wedding. Right after I had just finished a weekend locked in the arms of The Kid.

I had just flown back from spending two days with The Kid. I can't remember exactly what happened but it had been the first and only time The Kid had ever pissed me off. I remember thinking, "What am I doing? Why am I wasting my time with this ass in another state when I have a man at home who loves me?"

So I came home to Huge Asshole and I said it. Well, I tried to say it. I was having a hard time finding the right words. He was hovering over me watching me struggle when he whispered in my ear, "I don't know why you keep holding back? I don't know what you're so afraid of? Don't you realize that I feel the same way about you?"

He was right. I knew he loved me. It was only right that I should love him back right?

So I said it, "I had a lot of time to think on my trip and I realize now that I do. I love you."

He gasped. Just like My First had. He pulled me into his arms and said, "I love you too baby."

It was done. And over time, I did learn to love him. Didn't I?

Last but not least there was Nutty as a Fruitcake. My rebound. The epitome of forced love and affinity.
He told me he loved me on our 4th date. The crazy part is, I knew he meant it. Everything with Nutty happened very quickly. He's the only person I've ever allowed to call me his girlfriend from the get go. I had to. He didn't date. He was either with a girl or he wasn't. I was still reeling from the latest and worst of my break ups with Huge Asshole. I didn't want to go back to Huge A, or the dramas of our relationship so I dove into the overpowering, emotionally draining love of Nutty.

He just flat out asked me a few weeks into our relationship if I loved him. No one had ever asked me that before! I mean how rude can you be?

I told him I did. I'm not sure why.

"Yes I do," I told him. And to make sure he knew I meant it, I teared. For his benefit. Because I knew it would be more impactful if I did.

I think I wanted it to be easy for once. I wanted to mean it. I didn't want loving someone to be a struggle. Nutty loved me. He worshipped me. He treated me like a princess. I should have loved him in return shouldn't I of? So I faked it until I thought I did. That's when he placed me on a pedestal...and then left me there.

I have my answer. It's true. I've never loved someone before. You know how I know? Because love shouldn't be hard. You shouldn't have to think about it. You shouldn't have to talk yourself into it.

I've spent countless hours trying to decipher my feelings about the men in my life. It's always been a struggle for me to determine which feelings were mine and which were theirs.

I naturally hold back in my relationships. I protect myself. I build a wall around my heart and only pretend to allow it to drop for someone else. To this day, the wall still stands firmly in place.

Until now. And I know the exact moment when it happened. Because in that moment there was no debate. I knew it and felt it with every ounce of my being...

I was laying next to The Rocker. I was comforting him. He had heard some terrible news about a loved one earlier that night and was lost in thought about what to do next. I remember feeling the pain pouring off of him. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to hold him in my arms and stop the pain from touching him. I was looking at his face and that's when I felt it. Cupids arrow. That little shit shot me straight through my heart...at the most inappropriate of moments.

I gasped. Just like My First had. Just like Huge Asshole. But this time, I was the one who felt it. The wind was knocked out of me for once.

The Rocker turned and looked at me. He saw it happen. He saw the look on my face. He wasn't sure of what he was seeing but he felt the change. In me. I felt it too. In that moment I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I loved this man.

"What is it?" he asks me.

I wanted to say it. But I couldn't. It wasn't right. This moment wasn't about me. I tightened my mouth and shook my head in a silent, "Nothing."

He let it slide. He left that night without hearing the truth. I didn't sleep.

I loved him and I wanted more than anything to tell him so! I wanted him to know. I wanted to say it before he said it to me. I wanted him to know that I loved him regardless if he felt the same way about me. I wanted him to know that I felt this way freely, without help from him. I loved him not because I had to. Not because I had learned to. But because I just did. It was a truth and a feeling and simply the way things were.

I tried to tell him the next time I saw him. I couldn't do it. I didn't know how to say it. I had never done this before! I was afraid. Not of not hearing it in return. That part wasn't important to me. Real love is selfless. Real love doesn't need validation or reciprocation. I was afraid of not being believed. This was important to me. Not just because it was an important turning point in our relationship, but because this was an important turning point in my life. My worse fear was for it to be taken as a joke or to be written off as another silly girl confusing amazing sex and affection for genuine love.

I could feel! I could love! On my own. Not because I felt guilty or obligated. But because I had met someone so wonderful and perfect for me that my heart had reached out and broken down my wall all on its own...the freedom of it all felt amazing!

I finally forced myself to say it the third night. I had to. I hadn't slept in days. Cupids arrow was stuck in my heart and the only way to get it out was to share the poison with the center of my love and affections.

I was laying next to him on his bed when I said, "I need to tell you something, but I'm not sure how to say it."

I looked over at him. He was all ears. I wanted to laugh. Just moments before he had been exhausted and ready to pass out. Now? He was propped up on his elbow, his green eyes open wide. His mouth set in a half smile. God he's sexy.

"Ok, concentrate," I thought. I looked away and tried it again.

"You should know, I have never ever felt this way first about someone and I've never been the first to say this...," I know. It was definitely the worst I love you speech ever but I knew it was too late turn back, so I continued, "...and even though I'm not totally comfortable with this or us or what I'm feeling just yet, and it will probably take me some time before I can say it freely and be ok with it... I'm pretty sure that I've... fallen in love with you."

I did it! Without crying. Without sex. Without being badgered or chased or convinced. It was done.

I forced myself to look over at The Rocker. He was smiling. He seemed happy. He looked at me lovingly and then leaned over and gave me a kiss. It wasn't gentle nor was it erotic. It was heated and sweet and distinctly him.

He pulled away and said to me, "Well I think that maybe I might sort of be in love with you too."

I laughed. Everything was how it should be. No drama. No faking. Just my bumbling confession and The Rockers dry ever present humour.

It was a moment. It still is. Everytime I see him I think the same thing. "I love this man."

It feels amazing! Over 30 years and countless relationships later it finally happened for me.
I fell in love.

Goodnight Dear Reader. I hope you sleep as deeply as I do now. And please think about what I've said. Don't live your life borrowing the feelings of another. Wait for the arrow. Wait for the gasp. Wait for your Rocker.

Thank you Cupid. Your a wise little shit. Now take this damn arrow out of my heart, it stings like a bitch.

WCC

Lunch Time

I'm starting to understand why someone tried to pop off The Highlander. If "There can only be one," I'd prefer to be the one left standing...

Partyboy stopped by my job the other day. I hadn't seen him in weeks. Not since I brought The Rocker home with me after our first date. I'm still not sure what made PB act so strange that night. I know it had only been two days since our fooling around "incident", but come on? A quick rub down hardly a relationship makes...

We had spoken briefly via Facebook. Not directly, more of the wall to wall type of exchanges. Hippie Chick had posted that we missed him at The Plex. I added that he should stop by my job sometime and hang out. I had switched jobs and now worked in Hollywood, just a few blocks south of Partyboys apartment.

Guess he decided to take me up on my offer and came waltzing in the other afternoon. He definitely surprised me. In a good way. It had taken us months to build our friendship. It would be silly for it all to be over because I now had a boyfriend.

Now that I think about it, I've felt resistance from most of the males in my Hipster crew. Everyone has had an opinion. Even The Street Artist threw in his surprisingly negative two cents.

"I don't know about that guy wifey," he said to me the other day. The Street Artist and I are married now, by the way. We posted the announcement via Facebook after his birthday. We got a few friends to join in on the gag and congratulate us on our "drunken" decision to drive to Vegas and get hitched. We even took a few pictures kissing at Cinespace the other day in the hopes that it looked like a Vegas night club. The ruse actually worked. He's received several congratulations online already.

I think the men in my crew are disappointed that I'm not single anymore. I mean, up to this point, I've been "that girl". The available yet unattainable one. They could flirt and protect me and hold me when its cold. They could call me to hang without worrying about me having to ask my mans permission. They could hope that perhaps one day they could hook up with me. I think they liked to think that the option was there. The fact that I have a boyfriend now? Well that slams the door on all their hopes and dreams. Or atleast that's what I think they believe.

Maybe that's why Partyboy acted so strangely that night. Even though he has a girlfriend, I think he still likes to pretend that he and I are more to each other. He likes to pretend that the option was still there for us. In a way, I guess it was. I did finally decide to cave. Not necessarily because I wanted to...or wanted him. I just wanted to see what would happen if I did. In the same way I had wanted to see what would happen if I saw The Creeper one last time. I wanted to call PB on his bluff and give him the option to be with me. I was curious what the end result would be. But the boy choked, and forced me to slam the door shut on his oversized ass.

"Hey dude, what's up!" I said to him excitedly, walking over to hug him.

"Hey you, " he says to me, using his classic greeting to me. "Thought I'd stop by and finally check out the place."

I give him a quick tour of the store and tell him to wait for me for a sec. I run to my back office to grab the companies Web girl. I work at the corporate store and have a whole team of workers in the back office at any given time. Web Girl read my blog, in its entirety, in one day. Needless to say she was an instant WCC fan.

I pop my head into her office and whisper to her, "You want to meet Partyboy?"

"Uh, hell yeah!" She replies excitedly, jumping up from her chair.

I drag her out front and make the introductions. I can see the dreamy look on her face. Good. Nice to know I describe my characters as they appear in real life. I could see her drooling as she looked up at him in all his 6"3 glory. I told her to keep PB company so that I could grab my lunch. Figured I'd give her a thrill and leave her alone with one of my favorite WCC boys.

After I grabbed my lunch I took PB out front to some tables out of the way from my co workers prying eyes. I may write everything that goes down in my life, but in reality, I prefer privacy.

We talked about nothing in particular. It was mellow. Just two friends shooting the shit on another sunny California afternoon. I think again how glad I was that the other night had happened. It was the last step we needed to solidify that we were just friends. I felt zero heat or connection to him outside of the normal friend zone. Thank god. I don't know what I would do if I had to deal with his unsolicited affections forever. I mean what had been the boys end game? How long did he think it would have been until his girlfriend and I met? The boy would have had a complete freak out/break down for sure. But now? We were cool again. Two peas in a pod.

He told me that The Hollywood Guru asked about me the other day.

"He liked you," he says to me. "He's interested in reading your blog. He text me that he wants to see if your work matches up to your rocket-like karma. He called you a rebel."

I laugh. The Rockers roommates said something very similar about me after the first time they met me. They called me "edgy". Strange statements considering both parties had known me for less than an hour. I'm not sure if it was my personality,blond hair, style of clothes I wear or all of the above that made them say it; but something about me makes people stop. Take note. Maybe I am the type of star HG told me about? Maybe I do give off that tangible energy that people like to watch? Maybe I have "The Darkness". One could only hope.

Our chit chat gets interrupted by a text. I look down at my phone and see an unfamiliar phone number. I had just switched phones and lost a hand full of my contacts so I had no idea who it could be.

All it read was, "How are you?"

I'm not sure why but my first thought was that the text had came from Nutty as a Fruitcake. He'd been on my mind a lot lately. Mainly because I had found a packet of his head shots in my moving boxes the other day. But the area code didn't match up so I thought, what the hell, might as well see who it is.

"Good. Sorry. Lost my numbers. Who is this?" I send.

"This is The Highlander. Remember me?? You abruptly stopped communicating with me!:( "

Oh. My. God. Seriously? I thought I had dodged a very scary stalker bullet and had all but forgotten about this needy freak. I mean what the hell was he doing texting me? I blew you off dude! What the hell do you want?

I quickly show the text to Partyboy.

"What a freak!," I say to him. "Dude, I don't know why I constantly attract stalkers? Or maybe I don't attract them but I turn dudes into them? What the hell should I do?!"

"Yeah, I had the same problem with a chick once," he tells me, ignoring my question and instead launching into a barely relatable story about a girl who's unwanted affections once bothered him.

I swear this guy has ADD. Here I was freaking out about another Highlander assault and there he was ignoring it because for some reason he never likes to discuss my dating life. I'm beginning to think it has nothing to do with PB liking me. I think it has more to do with jealousy. Jealousy about someone in our inner circle being as desirable as he is.

Partyboy is a hot guy. I'm a hot girl. Even now it was evident. Every guy had looked up from their food to watch me walk across the balcony and take a seat. I could see girls taking double takes of Partyboy as they walked by our table. I've caused 4 car accidents in my day. One time while out to dinner, Hippie Chick and I couldn't stop laughing at the Hostess who did everything but jump into Partyboys lap.

I think he's used to being the center of attention. That's probably why it took him so long to let me go. If I was still into him, than that meant he would win the hotness award. He would be crowned King hottie in our circle of Creative friends. Sorry buddy, no tiara for you today. For now I'm the one being stalked so lets freaking focus here...

Two minutes later The Highlander sends a second text, "No comment?"

Needy freak.

I decide to respond. "I'm here. Sorry how things went down. But they did. I have a boyfriend now, so communicating with you really isn't cool."

I figured if he called me, I would throw Partyboy on the phone and have him pretend he was my boyfriend. Maybe shame The Highlander into stopping his disgustingly annoying communications with me.

Ok, that's not 100% true. You see even though The Rocker and I were now sleeping together, I still refused to allow him or anyone else to call us boyfriend/girlfriend. I'm not sure why, but I've always had issues with those titles. In the past it's taken guys months to finally get me to commit to them.

It's not because I didn't want to be monogamous with The Rocker. I was already doing that. I think it's because without a title there can never be a break up. If one day we bored of each other we could just fade away without having to make some grand announcement that we no longer wantedt to call each other by these silly titles. No thanks. If a guy can't figure out that he's my man without having to label us than he's not the right one for me.

Buuut...I have to admit. The Rocker has me twisted. I wanted to hear it. I wanted to say it. I told Partyboy my lame excuse about wanting to possibly put him on my phone with The Highlander but the whole time I had The Rockers sexy face in my mind. Man I wanted that boy to be mine. Title and all.

The Highlander sends this response, "So much for you not wanting a relationship right now. I wish that you had just been honest with me after all the time we had spent getting to know each other. Even as friends. That's the least I deserved. Take care."

You have to be fucking kidding me dude?! So much for me not wanting a relationship right now? I didn't want one with you buddy. Take the freaking hint. And all of what time getting to know each other? We met one time!! Once! And had tea and Persian cookies. Why in the hell do you think you know me?! Why do you think you deserve anything from me?

I'm too irritated to respond at first. Two minutes later I get another text. "PS. Never said I was only interested in dating you! Just thought we had a good time together..."

...after that whole one time we met, because I'm a freak and never see anybody so I've decided to latch onto you and give you shit for having the nerve to date someone else and not stay friends with me because I deserve first dibs on you because I was in an accident and you should feel sorry for me and want to be with me because I'm freaking insane!

Ok, he didn't text that last paragraph, but you get my drift...

My lunch break is over and it's time for me to head back into the store. Partyboy walks me back in and asks what time I get off.

"I should be done around 10pm," I tell him.

"Cool, well maybe I'll swing by later," he replies.

Boy please. Maybe? We all know you'll be back.

He gives me a hug goodbye and heads out. I see my staff follow him out with their eyes. I laugh to myself. Even though I'm aware that Partyboy is a good looking guy, he's so not my type. I need a little swagger to my man. I fell for the guy I met on New Years. That guy had balls. The man who just walked out the door on the other hand? That was just my buddy Partyboy. The guy who passes out on my bedroom floor on a regular basis and still gets nervous when I'm around and texts me constantly to see if he can come hang out and play with me and The Plex Force because deep down he an oversized puppy who just wants to be friends with well...everyone.

I head to the back office to send a reply to The Highlander. I'm done playing this game with this guy. If honesty is what he wants, than honesty is what he's going to get.

"You got more than a little strange dude," I start. "Kind of scared me to be honest. And not that this is any of your business, but I wasn't ready for a relationship when I met you. This guy is just patient and doesn't' ask or push me for anything. He gives us space to just be. And surprisingly we just clicked. That's how it goes."

I reread my text and satisfied with my response, I send it. I'm surprised by my words. I had intended on feeding him a semi lie but instead I ended up with a surprisingly accurate description of my current relationship. It was all true.

When I met The Highlander I wasn't ready to be in a relationship. I was still trying to figure out who I was and knew well enough that I didn't want to get sucked into The Highlanders world. I had told him that he needed more attention than I was willing to give. I was tired of the men in my life being the center of attention. With all that The Highlander was going through that's exactly what it would have been like. I mean he was doing it even now and we weren't even together!

Ten minutes pass without a response from him. I knew one of two things were happening. He was either so butt hurt about my text that he had decided to leave me alone. Fat chance for that theory...or the more likely of scenarios. He was now writing a 3 page response via text to me and I needed to be patient and wait for the onslaught.

The next text came in 9 pages long.

"That's fine. I'm not someone to be 'scared' of; so I kinda take offense at that." He starts.

You take offense of my fear of you? Uh, ok.

"But anyhow," he continues. "Like I had suggested to you when everything got 'strange'... "

God I wish he would stop inserting quotes from our past discussions. Freaking stalker.

"... between us, it was more a complication of discussing something serious via text..."

Yeah, it's the texting that makes you seem nuts.

"...I tend to be a rational and reasonable person and I'm sure we would've worked through the misunderstanding! "

I can't even comment on this line. I'm on sarcasm overload. It's quite possible my head might explode.

"...But you never afforded me the respect to do that because you just cut me off; which to be perfectly honest, I didn't expect of you."

Now he's pissing me off again. He wants to talk about respect? How about a little respect for my personal space dude? I have every right in the world to decide to not speak with you. I owe you nothing! You don't know me. How in the hell could you possibly know what you could or couldn't expect from me?

"...As you were well aware," oh yeah, he's still going, " because of the honesty and candor of our interactions, it was very hard for me to reach out to anyone after my accident. I did with you because I thought you were special and that we 'connected'; because I had spent so much time alone, it was difficult for me to taper my desire to interact with you. That's all!"

It was hard for you to reach out to anyone? We met on a dating website dude?! What did you think you were doing if not reaching out to meet people?

"...Anyhow I'd like us to be a part of eachothers life in some capacity; but clearly it takes 2 people to make that happen?!"

This guy can't be serious? Is he really still trying to be friends after all of this?

"...since we were just friends and had never dated and you do have male friends, I don't see why that wouldn't be possible?? Unless of course you don't want it to happen?"

Is that really a question? I stopped talking to you, and now I'm telling you that you're scaring me but this psycho still thinks there's a possibility that we could be friends? Am I on fucking candid camera right now?!

"...I'm really sorry that you felt 'pushed' by me because I'm generally very patient and that was more an unfortunate by-product of my circumstances."

You know since I am totally insane and all.

I'm done. So done. I don't want to know this person. I don't want him to contact me or know me. I want him to just go away. Now.

"Look Highlander," I text back. "I listened to my friends advice at the time and stopped answering you. Everything just got so over the top. Like I told you. I don't want to be anyones connection to the outside world. I don't need the reminders of what you went through. It comes across like you are trying to guilt me into staying friends with you. It's too much. We didn't know each other for that long nor did we know each other very well. You know so so little about me you have no idea. It's weird that you are still trying to contact me. I think its best that we just drop it. I'm not comfortable with you anymore."

"Wow, 'trying to guilt you into staying friends'," he responds. "Ok, enough said, I'm sorry to have bothered you. It was an honest mistake!"

In the middle of my cleansing sigh at what I thought was his final response, I get another text. I swear, he's like one of those psycho killers in the movies who you think is dead but the second the audience relaxes the psycho comes back ready to strike one final blow at the innocent teens until the leading heroine finally decapitates the bastard...

"I told you why I had contacted you and it was clearly NOT for anything you just rattled off! Take Care," he finally finishes.

I don't respond. I'm totally drained. I hope it's the last time I hear from him, but who knows? The audience loves them a sequel.

I head back out to the sales floor and Web Girl asks me what happened. She has the same excited grin that Pop a Squat gets whenever she is around my blogs in motion. I show her the text and tell her about my lunch with Partyboy.

" I swear, when I first read your blogs I thought there was no way all of these things could really be happening to you," she says. "I mean at first I thought, 'does she ever get any sleep?,' and than I thought that you must be making some of these events up."

"Nope," I tell her. " I don't sleep much and I never make any of it up. I mean I may stretch and pull my own personal opinions about situations, but the facts of the stories are all true. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried."

She heads back to her office happy and spent.

I'm exhausted. Man that guy is draining.

Luckily the rest of my day is text free. At closing time, Partyboy walks back into the store holding my favorite tea latte. Vanilla Robust with soy and two pumps of suger free vanilla syrup. Hippie Chick is right. This guy really can be charming when he wants to be.

I close up shop and we head out together sipping our warm Starbucks cups.
I offer him a ride home.

"You can just take me half way, I can walk the rest," he says to me.

"Don't be silly. Your super close dude," I say to him. "I pass your place all the time on my way to The Rockers house."

"So which one is The Rocker," he asks me. "Is he the guy that sings Sinatra songs?"

"No," I say laughing. "I call that guy Sinatra. I don't talk to him anymore. The Rocker is the guy you met the other night at The Plex."

"Oh thats right," he says nodding his head. "That was the day I was being all wierd and I left early..."

I look over at Partyboy in surprise. I swear, I may write Partyboy dumber than he is. I think his self awareness is alot more heightened than I give him credit for. A fact that worries me. I've given the boy excuses for his past behaviors because I figured he didn't know any better. But this little statement has me thinking twice about, well...everything.

"So things are good?" He asks me.

"Yeah," I respond. "I don't know how it happened but cupid came and bit me on the ass and out of no where, I'm in love."

I have no idea why I just said that to Partyboy, but I know immediately that I mean it. Like I said, some people just click. I'm pretty intuitive. I usually know immediately if someone is destined to be in my life. Friends or lovers. And I knew The Rocker was right for me.

"That's cool," Partyboy says. A simple statement I know, but he means it. Talking about all of this isn't strange. Partyboy is my friend. We're close. He's closer to me in many aspect than he even is with the Party Guys. It's sort of fitting that he's the first person to hear me out my feelings about The Rocker.

I pull up to Partyboys place and he turns and gives me a hug and kiss on my cheek.

"Thank you, see you later," he says. "Maybe I can stop by again and we can do coffee another time?"

"For sure," I tell him.

I let him off and head back home to The Plex.

What a strange day. I feel like I shut the door on two relationships and opened another to a new.

I love The Rocker. Not in the funny, 'I'm just being silly' sort of way. But the real head over heels, lasting, no matter what may come kind.

Oh shit. This can't be good.

WCC

Carrie

I'm sorry Dear Reader. I know it's been much too long between post. I've been insanely busy and have neglected my online duties to you, my ever faithful army of WCC readers.

I'll be back at it soon enough. I have stories galore, all securely locked away in my ever active brain.

I've heard news from The Highlander. That's right. Mr. Needy stalker himself. The best part is, he called me while I was out to lunch with Partyboy. I swear I couldn't make this shit up if I tried...

I got a text from the Hollywood Guru this morning. He read my blogs and the inevitable happened. He is in love with WCC. It's hard being a Super Hero. People tend to forget the real person behind the mask. I promised him a coffee date so that I could show him the difference between me and my alter ego.

It's funny. The first month I started this page I busted out 23 blogs. I spent every spare moment I had writing about my life. The postings have been drastically dropping ever since. The difference now? I'm not just writing about my life. I'm living it. I'm present. I'm seeing my life through my eyes not just through my notes. I'm living in the moment and loving my journey in the outside world.

But don't you worry. I still want to share with you all that I do. There are exciting things to come and I look forward to getting your continued feedback on the ups and downs of my life.

There's only so long the Bad ass, Smart ass who puts men on blast Carrie can stay quite.

So stay tuned. Same Bat time. Same Bat channel. My life is still a blasty blast.

I'll be talking you with soon,
WCC