Self-Sabotage

Sometimes I think I'm a bad person. Not someone who breaks laws or commits acts of violence. But a bad person nonetheless. I've committed several acts of self-sabotage over the years and my most recent one is killing me. If you've read my previous post you're familiar with Grey Shirt and Murse. Murse is a near perfect man. He's a single - as in the mother is not around at all - father raising 3 kids and working four 12's a week. And I slept with Grey Shirt!! WHAT THE FUCK!?!?! And it wasn't even good. I guess that's what I get for being a bad person. Bad sex. A friend of mine told me that this is a pattern. That I find someone that I like and then I sleep with someone else. That would explain a lot. Like why I've never been married or had an actual long-term, serious, committed, loving, caring relationship. That and I have bad taste in men...I tend to date narcissists and commitment-phobes. Sigh.

Six months of Sin

So where have I been, you ask? Busy falling in love, getting my heart crushed, and then realizing that he was a manipulative, narcissistic asshole who had been continually putting me down and had me convinced I was seriously fucked up. But that put me into hard core rebound mode where I found myself, became even more liberated, and enjoyed the once off-limits 20-something guys. It all started with the Lethal Weapon – one of the most beautiful men I’d ever met who gave me my sexy back. And roaring back like the tornado that took Dorothy’s house to Oz. But in a ridiculously over-the-top good kind of way. 

I gave myself a makeover from the inside out and rediscovered the world. My social life exploded amidst salacious affairs and new friendships. I learned to say FUCK YOU!!! to the horrible ex who refused to leave me alone. And I felt good about it. I was rejecting the mediocre life that I had settled into with the man that was not deserving of me. I focused on having fun, reconnecting with friends, and reestablishing the goals I had for myself that I had been told were stupid, pointless, and not what I should be trying to do.

And then there was Grey Shirt, Big Watch. A hot, sexy, smart, 24 year old guy. There was something so good, yet oh-so-bad about sleeping with someone 10 years younger than me. But I liked it. A lot. Too much. I couldn’t say no and I wouldn’t say no. I should have been distracted by MMA Guy – the older, muscular, and damn hot ex-MMA fighter and current military lawyer. But there was something about Grey Shirt. Something I couldn’t walk away from. His perfect body, maybe? His attentiveness? Or perhaps the scandalous nature of it all. Whatever it was he still pops back into my bed on occasion. And I still won’t say no.

But here I am now…with the Murse. He’s a hot man nurse. That’s right ladies. And goddam does he look good in his scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck! I met this guy after a night out with a girlfriend and did everything in my power to get away. I told him I didn’t like him, refused to kiss him even after he begged, and then spent hours sitting with him and talking. Kissing. And watching the sun rise. Lord, does he make me have some of the most incredible orgasms I’ve ever had in my life. Doesn’t hurt that he has a lethal weapon of his own. There’s something different about this one, though. He says things that make me blush. He wants to spend the night together so that he can hold me while we sleep. Hopefully he’ll be around for the long haul. Murse is definitely a keeper.

So that’s how I spent the last little while. It was tremendously brutal at times, but I’ve also had some of the best moments these last few months. And while I’m sorry I ever met that douche of an ex he did help me get over and move beyond Mr. Big. And for that I am grateful.