(Cole):

 Hola a todos! 

I hope everyone is doing well.  As for me, well……  I have decided to become “officially” single.  It took a lot of time, a lot of back and forth arguments with myself (some out loud, some silent in my head), for me to decide, but ultimately, I came to the conclusion that after a couple of years of being married, once things were no longer working out between my ex-husband and I, that all I really wanted was to be single again, to be who I wanted to be, to do what I wanted to do, without being hindered by a significant other.  Don’t get me wrong, I tried to make it work, but, well, it just didn’t, and so we separated and then divorced. 

It’s not the separation or the divorce that bother me, more the fact that I found myself in a “relationship” so soon after being separated.  It doesn’t matter that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, that I never even thought I could actually like Rapist, let alone love him.  Hell, I was just looking to get laid!  I wouldn’t have cared if he was Jack the ripper, so long as he didn’t kill me.  What bothers me is that I was so quick to be so faithful and monogamous so shortly after separating.  I mean, what was I thinking?  What happened to keeping my options open, to playing the field or having a little fun?  After seven years of being with someone, five plus years of marriage, after finally separating and divorcing, I decide to fall in love so quickly and limit myself to one, single person?  Very bad idea. 

Funny thing is, it wasn’t a rebound.  I couldn’t have been further away from wanting to shackle myself to another human being, yet that’s what happened.  Both rapist and I were quite surprised to have fallen in love with each other.  I was such a cunt to him in the beginning, in fact, up until a few months ago.  I was all “come in, get naked, fuck me, get dressed, and get the fuck out of my house so I can pour myself a scotch or crack a beer and smoke a cigarette!”  I wanted to be taken care of physically, while emotionally my mind could run free.  I mean, lets face it, masturbating gets old after a while, and I’m a very sexual person.  I wanted a reliable and “safe” booty call to come and take care of business when I needed it, not to dictate who I could hang out with or what I should do with my life when he wasn’t inside of me.  Not that rapist does that.  He does have a jealous side, but he knows he can’t tell me what to do anywhere but in the bedroom.  Outside of the bedroom I’m my own private entity, and I like it that way.  But……

It’s time to cut myself loose and see what else or who else is out there, and the longer I wait, the more difficult that will be.  It makes sense to call it quits now anyway.  We have never done anything conventional in our “relationship”.  I rather think we dated backwards.  It started with us being at each others’ throats and basically hating each other (and hate fucking each other), then we became sweeter, then we finally started kissing and, dare I admit it, even cuddling!  Now that we’re saying I love you, and think our time has run out.  I wasn’t looking for love.  I know I will want it again eventually, but I still think it’s too soon for love.  Love ruins the fun, and right now, I want to have fun, not be all tangled up in a relationship.  Besides, I’m planning my “30, nerdy, inked and dirty” (Cole code for 30^th birthday) in VEGAS at the end of August, and where better to be single and down for getting into some mischief with my partner in Crime, MARGE!???

Speaking of love and Marge…

It was Marge’s birthday on Tuesday, and that turtle bastard didn’t even text her happy birthday!  She took it ok, but I was fucking pissed!  Don’t get me wrong, she had a few moments where she was overwhelmed with sadness, and it just got me thinking:  Do I love rapist, have I ever really loved anyone at all, and am I even capable of love? 

    

I’ve had this conversation with several of my friends, and while it is fun do discuss love and how people behave when they are in it, I get no definitive answers.  As far as Marge is concerned, she LOVES, at least she loves the turtle.  I’m not really sure how she felt about her ex-husband.  I guess I just started wondering because I feel that I love rapist, yet I am just going to walk away.  Have I shed any tears?  Not physical ones, no.  Emotional ones?  Well, if the water never comes, does it count as a tear?

Even when my ex-husband asked for a divorce I don’t think I cried.  Well, in that particular situation I think I was more relieved than sad, but still, one would think that tears would fall.  So what is it then?  Does everyone just behave differently with this emotion that so many strive for, or have I indeed never really loved?  And if it isn’t love that I feel for rapist, what exactly is it?  Is it definable, or do I just prefer to live in a habitual state of ambiguity?  Am I cutting rapist out of my life before things get more serious so I don’t have to deal with the pain later, or do I truly just want to move on and meet other men?  Is it fun I am honestly seeking, or is it future, inevitable pain I am avoiding?