Woman vs Deck and the pursuit of Happiness

So on the deck side of things – I fucking win, baby. God, how long has it been? 4 cans of stain, one brush (s/he gave me), and 28’ of kick ass scaffolding construction later. I finished Friday night, with thunder clouds threating my newly stained deck top, coming to the bottom of the stairs with just a barely enough to coat the brush at the bottom of the can. It was a photo finish, most definitely. 

I haven’t got my firepit back on the deck (it still needs to cure a bit more – maybe at the end of today), but I am having friends over for a bbq tonight, and I’m looking forward to that. Though I’ll be honest, today I just want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head. But I’ll get to that.

I was getting ready for Misty to come over – I took this picture of the deck while I was naked after the shower. I went out there an lit the candles buck nake,d enjoying the evening sun and the delicious anticipation of seeing him/her. The phone rings. It’s Darth. 

Now, I’ll be honest, I love his call. He’s absolutely toxic for my heart, I know. He’s a self absorbed bastard. Without question. I am SO FUCKING HAPPY that he doesn’t hold my heart in his hand like he used to. I can love him from here – out of the line of fire – and out of the emotional meat grinder. While we were talking and I was putting on make-up for my date, I felt all over again, as he poured his heart out about his marriage woes, and his obvious love (albeit fucked up) for his wife, that I make him feel better. You could say I boost his ego, give him the attention he craves. He was searching when I met him. I think he still is. He loves his wife, but she doesn’t love him back in the way he wants or needs, and so he tries to fill that hole. This thought is playing through my mind, followed by this one that hurts me so terribly – “You are not good enough. You are not a tall, beautiful, German, doctor, princess – the one I really want. You will do in a pinch." 

After I got off the phone I thanked the universe that even though I still love and care for him – I am not the broken mess I was. The cracks are still there, but I feel stronger and wiser for it. I like to think I am better than I was. 

After talking with Darth, I see that Misty has called – so I call him/her back. I tell him/her immediately about my call – about the pain Darth is going through with what looks like the slow death of his marriage. It’s like getting run over by a steamroller. We talk about that as he comes out to see me. S/he tells me where she is on the drive – a particularly dangerous/nasty part of a windy mountain road, and her/his phone cuts out. I can’t get him back. I know someone who died there, on that stretch. I panic a bit. I set the clock for 30 minutes. I get some clothes ready (I’m in my matching hot pink bra and panty set) in case I need to fly to the hospital. I try and settle myself down – I sit at the computer and re-look at facebook pictures of my peeps who are at my Grandmum’s house with my family. I cry. I cry because I feel alone – I miss my family. I’m afraid for him/her. Darth messages me asking me would I visit if I could. All I can think about is how this world, and me, are not ready to be without Misty. My heart is in my fucking throat.

And then my love walks in – beautiful, freckled, sunkissed, smiling – the warmth in his eyes and person make me melt. I hug him and tell him how scared I was. I show him the deck – s/he loves it. 

It is another different flavour of night with her/him. And this one is more bitter-sweet.  I definitely think that my Darth baggage made it much worse – or maybe it just brought my awareness to something I should be more mindful of. I haven’t decided. 

We were standing in my dining room, just inside off the deck, and he was telling me a story where someone looked similarly to me, and he made that comment – "she and you had a very similar look.”, and then not even a sentence later s/he said, “But she wasn’t nearly as pretty as Wife." 

I stopped him. "You realize what you just said right? I look like *x-girl* and that she isn’t as pretty as *wife*.” I say, using the names of people. 

“Yes, I know.” He says, and he is unfailingly honest. I love that. Rather than try and lie or twist that around, he just gives it to me straight up. There is a terrible pause as the realization of what he has said sinks into me. And I feel second – I feel LESS. I feel that tsunami of “You are not as pretty, as special, as loved. You’re the good time girl, but you will never be picked to be first.”

“Oh my, I’ve hurt you, haven’t I?” he says, pulling me so close and wrapping me up I feel enveloped. It doesn’t stop the hurt. All those filled in cracks from Darth bleed. And I cry. 

We talk, we fuck, we shower, we cuddle. I woke up snuggled into him, and a terrible weight in my heart. 

I recognize that this feeling is my own. Nothing in the situation has changed, just my perception of how things are. He loves his wife. She doesn’t love him back in the way that he wants/needs her to. But she is his/her ideal. Much like Darth and his beautiful wife. I am a consolation prize, but I’m not the girl you want to keep. That’s how I feel today. Sad. 

S/he and I talked on her/his way home (s/he was late leaving here – so it’s his wife will be unhappy about that), as much as I wish it had, it wasn’t able to lift this hurt. 

I feel painfully alone today.