Against us

He cares for me, he loves me but I don't know if thats enough. I care for him, I love him but is that enough?

We talk of marriage. I say December; by then, I think the stars will wear off, reality will set in and it will (maybe thankfully) end.

And it will end. It seems with each week, we find more to disagree about. It frustrates me, he frustrates me. One second he is fine and the next we won't look at each other, won't speak.

I told him I want a large family. He told me thats irresponsible, told me my parents were irresponsible for having ten kids, that those kids will/are screw ups. I resent that. Am I a screw up? Are any of my siblings screw ups? No.

Life is so precious. I don 't want to deny it the opportunity of a chance at this life. And thats how I see. I won't do what I can't handle and at the moment, I feel that I could handle it.

And of course, I want the Temple. I don't want a marriage outside of it. I'm ashamed of myself. I promised myself, I promised God I would marry in the Temple. I would do my part. I haven't. I am failing. I don't like to fail. I don't like to argue.

And so, I feel the end approaches for this relationship. The odds are against us and I am in their favor.

A real man

But I've managed to get out. And now, I will admit. I am dating someone who truly cares for me, thats truly a first, which hurts me to say. There's been so much hurt, betrayal, broken trust, broken heart. The past few years were rough and I was torn so many times. I was pushed down so many times. Towards the end I became numb. And now . . . I still can't take it in. I can't understand. And so I sit here and write. Who knows how long this blog will go. Who knows how many other crazy, older guys I will date. Hopefully not too many more.

Brandon, thus far, is pretty much amazing. I can't put into words how good he has been to me. Every time I try to walk away, I can't. He wants me for me. He thinks I'm amazing, beautiful. I've never had anyone look at me the way he does; at least, not as much as he does.

He wants to make me happy, when I am sad he is sad. I can't understand what he possibly sees in me. He's handsome, charming and sometimes I'm surprised he wants me.

Hopefully these positive vibes will continue, hopefully my feelings will continue to endear me to him and hopefully it will work. But I have faith in my Heavenly Father. I know that he has a plan for me. I must trust in that plan.

Utter confusion

But sadly, this was kinda a lie. I would like to say that I was finished with men for a while. I thought wrong. I continued to talk to Matt. Plans began to form. Words of commitment began to slip from his lips and then he dropped the news. Alaska. He was going to Alaska for five months. Could I handle that? I panicked. I ended our connection.

I cried. I figured I wouldn't talk to him again but I was wrong. Days later and he was back. I found out he made out with several girls during this time. But things had begun to heat up with Taylor's Landlord and I.

Yes, this did happen. I didn't mean for it to happen. It just did. And now, we just naturally come together. I don't know what to do.

Matt was going to surprise me March 11 with a visit. Good thing I found out before. He told me because we got in a fight the week before and he confessed the surprise.

Now he is coming to visit and I am still wrapped up in the landlord, Brandon. Inactive Brandon. He took me out for Valentines, my first Valentine, and since then things haven't been the same. We've spent practically everyday together. It started out as Brandon being the friend. Taylor and I hung out with him, had a good time but I never saw anything coming from it. Nothing could come from it.

Brandon is 30-years-old, divorced, has an eight-year-old son and is not active in the church. We took him to institute last night. That was the first church activity he's attended in years.

I'd like to just walk away. I'd like to walk right into Matt's arms next weekend but I just don't know if I can. I really like Brandon. I see so much potential there, not for me but for his life in general. I don't want to be the bad example and I don't want to be another reason for his continued dislike of the church. So, I can't just walk away. I have to find a way. I'm just not sure how. So, I am currently dating two guys. I don' t know how I get in these situations.

WAY too risque for my tastes

I vowed no more kissing but it didn't last. A week after my arrival in Utah and I had a new make out buddy. Jon Diaz, the wannabe gangsta. I remember Jon from Fall 09' He had been the SRC vice president, friends with Grace (my roommate), in our ward and a lot thinner.

Jon is still living in his college days. His view of life is quite different from mine. But he was a fun make out. Actually he sucked at kissing but he made up for it in other ways. He made me laugh a lot at first. He was new to all of it but boy did he catch on fast and want to do it ALL. I said no, kept saying no.

Jon was my first brown man, my first college graduate with his own place. We had a few fun nights sleeping over at his place, too much fun and too much trouble.

The last time I came over his friend had moved in with him. I spent the night with him and in the morning I found myself in the middle of two guys, cuddling -- this was a low, an ultimate low.

I've become risqué, confident, daring and trouble. I no longer understand crushes. I don't understand affection. I don't understand dating. I don't understand love. I don't know what any of these things feel like and I don't think about what these things feel like, not the way I used to.

That’s not something I want to try again. I'm not into more than one guy at a time.

A little too much kissing

Then came friend Matt, inconsistent Matt. I'd known Matt for almost a year before we kissed. He was stuck on his ex-girlfriend, stuck on her convenience and a past that held him in limbo. She let herself become convenient. Insecurity and loneliness drove her to have sex with Matt and both were expelled from college, in their last semester.

Matt is actually still my friend, one of my best friends. We talk quite frequently. He is still extremely inconsistent. I can't put any feeling other than friends into him because he messed with me so many times. We did make out though. I insisted. He kept bringing it up and I wanted to know how good he was so we spent a few days in each other's arms, while he was talking engagement with his ex-girlfriend.

It was strange because I knew how he was. I had no intentions other than to make out. He couldn't handle that and tried for more. I didn't want more but I thought to give it a try. He ran off. No surprise.

He wasn't my last kiss. Graduation night brought Zatl. We had one last make out and that was the end of that. Zatl was never much of a lover. He was fun to wrestle with, probably my favorite but not for cuddling or much else.

I was planning to be good after this. Two guys in less than a week was a lot of guys for me. I'm really not that type of girl. Life has just become very uncertain and I don't say no when I should.

It was like kissing worms, slugs . . . gross

My most minor fling was with the first Mat--Make out Mat, firefighter Mat. It was a random Thanksgiving make out, right after a night with Zatl. I didn't see it coming. We didn’t' even talk about much. He only had one thing on his mind. He didn't have much of a life, wasn't aspiring to do much. I was lonesome and my other Matt wasn't being agreeable so I agreed to give him a back rub, which led to cuddling and then kissing and a dead stop. I wasn't interested. I called a halt. He was not a good kisser and not as attractive as I initially thought -- too redneck for my liking.

Can't forget spider-eyebrows boy

Oh and then we can't forget the minor character James or better known as Eyebrows. He was angered by a column I wrote saying that "all men are losers" he decided to email me some tart response. I replied. Then I received a phone number.

My intentions were to play with him and teach a lesson but I'm too nice. I remember he pushed me up against a door and tried having his wicked way with me during Thanksgiving break. After that he liked to chat with me about ridiculous political beliefs of his. He thought other races were inferior to ours, he thought women were inferior.

I soon learned that all he wanted was a romp in bed with me. "My grandma lives in Utah, she goes to bed at 10 p.m. she has a basement, with a bed." I felt like screwing with his head and not his body when he proposed this, so I just replied with what I thought was funny, "Can I bring a gallon of ice cream? Ooooh and a pizza? I might get the munchies. Oh and can I bring a drink too? We could have a bring your own beverage make out." He freaked about this.

I just couldn't get beyond the eyebrows, his constant twitching and his scrawny body. Spider legged eyebrows just aren't my thing and I couldn't add that to my list of kisses--he wasn't even attractive. I like them hot.

Skinny, old faced and conspiracy crazy

At first it was Kelly and then Zatl. I don't know why I had a thing for men in their mid to late twenties who looked like old men and had bad attitudes, but I did.

And that’s why my next victim was Model Zatl with all his political notions and opinions he thought were fact. I first met him right when I started seeing Kelly again. I liked his sexual appeal. I would've flirted it up then but my heart was in a different place. I did look him up right after I dumped Kelly. I don't know how I remembered his name, I don't know why he even came to mind but he did.

We exchanged numbers and at first things were fun; although, I look back now and realize he has got to be one of the oddest creatures I know. Our first date we went to see his sister in the hospital, where she had just given birth the night before. If that wasn't awkward, we went and got ice cream and while we were talking J.R. called needing a babysitter. Zatl sat with me while I rocked Elle to sleep. He was odd. I kicked him out an hour later so I could go on another date.

Zatl was this crazy guy who taught me that I could have a non-committal make out. Each time, I thought I was falling for him, but it was only days later that I realized how silly the notion was.

I only wanted him when I craved attention. I learned to recognize this in myself. Zatl taught me this. Taught me to recognize that all my relationships in the past had been basically physical.

He would've been an interesting friend if he weren't so bull-headed and stuck on his cowboy, crap encrusted boots. I did like kissing him more than all the others though, until Brandon. Zatl was my first hicky, my first non-college student, my first cowboy, my first real make-out. While there was a lot of lust, there was also good conversation. Not relationship conversation, just intellectual conversation. His actions and words showed me, for the most part, how I didn't want to be.

He was consumed with work and himself. He was 27; He wasn't going to change, he'd always be consumed by work and himself.

Couldn't make it work

During most of this there was David. David came into my life at an inopportune time. Everyone told me I was blind. We matched so perfectly. If I were to regret things in my life, then David would be at the top of that list. I couldn't love David when he was there to be loved but I fell for him the moment he stopped trying to love me.

I remember he bought Epsom salt for my feet when I had really bad blisters. I remember he always wanted us to have a good time. I remember him saying, "next time it will be better, I promise." I remember holding hands with him and feeling nothing because I was feeling for someone else. I remember him the most bitter sweetly. I remember he wanted to kiss me, I couldn’t' let him. My heart was still stuck somewhere else.

First "Love" AKA: Lust

Which brings me to Kelly. The night before James came to visit I went to a dance with Kelly. You must understand something about that relationship. Kelly was the first guy I seriously dated, who was older than me and he was the tallest and from the first day he would always talk about marriage. I had actually met Kelly months before, fallen for him only to have him disappear. He had talked about marriage then. He always talked about marriage. For a girl who craved marriage those were words of commitment.

He contacted me month's later, right when I was falling for James. I now realize Kelly was just looking for a casual make out. Apparently that was his reputation. Too bad I was still innocent, naïve or else I may I have gone for it and have never been hurt in the process.

I went to that dance and I fell. I had received so little attention when I was younger. At the time I still saw myself as ugly, insignificant. I grabbed at whatever was within my reach.

I continued to ask to see him, to spend time with him. Meanwhile he was dating, flirting, proposing, kissing and loving other girls.

I did make him wait 3 months before he could kiss me. One evening he had a conversation with my roommate in the library; he told her how I was a "10" in his eyes until I told him I wasn't ready to kiss, to make out, to prostitute my lips and that’s when the number started dropping in his eyes. So, I kissed him. My first real kiss was in an abandoned house, at night, by the temple.

Oh the shame. I knew I was being manipulated and I let myself be manipulated. He was my dirtiest lover. I'm not talking about all the rules he broke and there were plenty. He was just secretive with his actions. He broke rules without saying a word and dragged me along with him--I had no words of my own at that time. I was so infatuated with the ideas of him that he put into my head that I let it all happen. He was a dirty lover because he never communicated to me about the dirty things we did together until his conscious kicked in . . . his selfish conscious. He wasn't worried about sullying my reputation, only his own.

I'm not upset that I was lead on for six months. I'm mostly chagrined that I let myself fall for someone so abusive and disturbed.

I used to walk 20 minutes in the snow for him. He never picked me up, he never dropped me off, he always made me walk and he owned a car. He used to make lists of all the things wrong with me, all the things I lacked. He never asked what he lacked. He'd tell me he didn't love. He'd cheat on me. He walked all over me. He told me he wanted a dancer because they had promise in the bedroom. Told me I wasn't funny enough. Told me I wasn't sexy enough. Told me my clothes needed to be tighter fitting. Told me what he wanted wasn't me. Told me he was still in love with his first girlfriend from when he was nineteen.

I suspected Kelly looked at pornography. He made references to how my body wasn't good enough. He was obsessed with the fear that his wife would get fat. He was obsessed with his wife having an ideal body (his wife doesn't). He was aggressive and bordering on abusive.

I remember he told me a story from his mission, where he beat a dog to death while on his mission. One evening he pulled out his scriptures, covered in fur. He claimed a car hit the dog and he was just putting it out of its misery. But why would he hang the dog up by its legs, beat it with a stick and then skin it to cover his scriptures?

Kelly really wasn't a nice person. There were things I saw along the way. He was rude to people. He ripped people off. Took money from people who had none. He incited his exes, said hurtful things to them. He was mean to his parents. A lot of it probably stemmed from his father. His father was aggressive and I have a feeling slightly abusive. His mother was quiet, submissive. She always reached out with love toward Kelly and he always bit her hand.

His idea of playing with children was making them cry. He had a tendency to torture his little nieces and nephews, laughing at their pain. He liked to cause me pain. He liked to tell me everyday that I wasn't good enough, and yet I stuck around.

If that doesn't strip you of all your worth then I don't know what does. None of my friends liked him, none of his friends liked him and his family simply endured him. But I don't blame him. I blame myself for being taken advantage of, manipulated and degraded. I blame myself for holding on to something so empty, so shallow.

I spent so many sleepless nights, so many deluded fantasies on a construction worker, on a man whose forehead you could park a plane, on a man that was abnormally proportioned and looked like a molester when his hair was long.

I guess the greatest hurt; the greatest blow was that my friend married him. They had never met until we prank called her. He saved her number. She flirted with him mercilessly while pretending to be my friend. We were still dating and they were cheating. I still remember her asking me all about him. I thought she was being nice, trying to understand why I loved him. But really she was learning how to manipulate him. He already knew how to manipulate her.

Karisa, that is her name, was a tramp. Her low self-esteem had caused her to put- out for a lot of losers. She knew it too and always felt guilty about it. Her parent's continuous discontent with each other, their children and Karisa's paranoia with her figure caused her to manipulate her way into marriage. Kelly married her because I dumped him, he was horny, he'd graduated with out a job lined up and was living at home and had jno girls left to use; he had to find something to do with his time.

I feel sorry for Karisa, she never over came that low self-esteem. So many girls don't and they bring it into marriage with them. That low self-esteem leaves them open to manipulation and abuse, which is what she will face in the future.

I too used to be like that. But I was blessed; I was able to realize the foolishness of the situation. A social worker actually helped end my relationship with Kelly. Everyone had expressed his or her dislike of my relationship and the man I was dating. NO one supported my relationship and all dearly hoped it would end. It took a stranger who was able to diagnose my relationship --without even knowing my relationship-- to bring my head out of the clouds.

I was only in love with the idea of him--we couldn't even hold a conversation; but I would have done anything for him. So, while on a trip to see him in Utah, my best friends Dad pointed out how wrong our relationship was. I knew the night before he told me, when I was with Kelly, holding his hand that it was over. I couldn't handle the distance, the discontent, and the unrequited love. I dropped him.

The beginning of my LOVES

It's only been a year since I fell in love with this song. So much has changed since then. There were no kisses before this song; there have been so many since, so many for a girl like me.

Smelly Kelly. He was my first love. My first kiss--my least favorite, he just wasn't that good, I later learned, after experiencing others.

I guess he wasn't really my first love. Nathan was my first. Frodo Nathan. I stared at him for four long years before he even looked in my direction. The tables turned with him. When he left for his mission I was so in love. When he returned from his mission I so was not. He was my first kiss. I don't count it. We were in a pool, I was in his short arms and I didn't even see it coming. I pulled back, I told him to stop; I didn't want to kiss until I was engaged.

Right after Nathan there was Lone Star James. James flew all the way from Texas to meet me. We had never met. I knew he was a nice guy because his brother's wife was my Dad's cousin. He is a nice guy. I just couldn't make it work. He was decidedly not attractive and socially inept--even though he was 26.

James sent me packages. I was the phone call he made when was allowed to call while in Afghanistan. James flew to see me while on leave.

(I don't have a pic of James, he must've deleted his Facebook or something. I also don't have one of Kelly (he's in the next post), he's kinda funky looking anyway.)