Full Stop

I have to stop comparing. It’s making me so fucking unhappy. Stop stop stop.


I am playing WoW and can’t concentrate because I’m all butt-hurt. There. It helped even to write it. I have to stop comparing. This is the second time I’ve done this and it’s so dumb.  I have to stop looking at my cake and then theirs and my cake and then theirs because it just makes me so miserable and otherwise I’m actually very happy. Plus it’s just impossible and wrong. When I’m focusing on my stuff, my plate, my world, all is well. When I look at theirs I think.. hey.. why do they get so much?

So, it’s a four day weekend and I was pretty fucking thrilled because that means I’d get a nice long date… a Saturday. I love Saturday dates, especially when they start a little early. It feels so long and you can have so much fun and relaxing and naughty time and just goodness. And nobody is tired from the week. And there’s breakfast. Mmmm.

So, nobody did anything wrong, but I just kinda feel like I got shafted and you know.. it’s really me and my head doing it. It’s all my head and it’s stupid.  Peaches got all of Friday night and the morning Saturday, and I got the afternoon and evening Saturday and she got the morning, afternoon and evening Sunday, and the whole morning Monday. I’ll get to see him for a tiny bit as he’s coming to my piercing with me, and I find myself butt hurt.

Let me explain. I am doing this to myself. It is totally me!

I had a PERFECT date Saturday. I loved it. We had plenty of time to hit some wineries and still had lots of time together and just a wonderful wonderful time. It was relaxing and sweet and passionate and loving and just awesome. I spent the night with Cleveland last night and had ANOTHER perfect date. And Traveler WANTED to come with me and asked to do so and it will be great to have him there.

It’s my brain that starts to tally. Sure.. I had one great afternoon and evening and a quick piercing. Why did SHE get all of Friday, half of Saturday, all of Sunday, and half of Monday though? (ugh… ) My sick head kicks in. I start to gather evidence, real and imagined. Why does that bother me? It shouldn’t. Seriously why am I being so dumb?

Please don’t send me messages about how much I suck to be jealous this way. I KNOW I do. I know that this is my unprocessed fear. Hubby stop loving and dumped me, replaced me. Traveler will shaft me for her too. Even he.. he likes her better, because EVERYONE is better than me. Ugh.. Sick Sick Sick.

Writing stuff like this helps because I see the poison I’m interjecting. Working out helps and remembering true things helps. I love Traveler and he loves me. I KNOW this. He tells me and shows me constantly. He’s very considerate and kind and loving. He’s affectionate and passionate and wonderful. I KNOW he’s happy and I am too. Our time together is good and I’m very happy with our relationship on pretty much every level. Traveler is not a game player and he’s very very very careful to be loving and kind to all the women in his life and to treat us all well. He’s a good man with a good heart and good intentions. When I remember who he is, I feel this fear kind of slink away.

When I remember that I am fine actually…. that I don’t NEED any of this, I feel better. I am not determined by Traveler or anyone else either. If he DID want to throw me away that’d be HIS stupidity, not mine. That would hurt and I would hate it, but I would be okay then too. Hubby didn’t break me and Traveler wouldn’t either. Traveler isn’t ranking us and this kind of thinking is poisonous and unhealthy and makes me unhappy.

It’s amazing the difference perspective makes. I am glad I don’t do this a lot. I’m glad I’m finding ways that work to stop it when I do. I think of all the things I’m grateful for. I think of his happiness and how much I love that, even if I’m not causing it. I love thinking of Traveler being appreciated and loved.  I think about book characters and blogs and good times. I think about how much I love them and they love me. I think about things that give my brain better things to chew. I can’t just not think, so I turn to better thoughts instead. I feel calmer and more myself. I feel happier and more relaxed and back on solid footing. I think about my wonderful date with Cleveland and how that didn’t detract from my time with Traveler or make me not like Traveler or whatever. I remember that I don’t have to be replaced. I feel myself click back into reason and ration and peace. I think about all the beautiful things in my life and all the love I’m blessed with and I’m grateful again. I have way more joy and peace and love and life in my life than any one human has a right to hope for. Even if the midst of chaos, I’ve really been relatively okay. Sure, it’s painful. Sure, I’m left doubting myself and scared for my love but I’m stronger than I realized and I knew I was pretty strong. My foundation was rocked a bit, but it wasn’t broken.

I’m embarrassed that I went there again, but I think part of healing is admitting it and seeing when and how and why and changing. I love the freedom and peace and serenity this gives me. I like loving my lovers and not calculating them. Ahhhh.. some more relief.

He just called. Time to go get my pussy pierced. 🙂


  1. When I don’t get enough time with my boyfriend, I do the same thing. I start to resent his wife a little because she lives with him and gets all his time and attention. But she’s the one that will start the tit-for-tat comparison whereas all I want is maybe one night a week. Is that really too much to ask for? In the end, I know exactly how you feel and I do the same thing and have to remind myself to be happy with what I have rather than what she has. It’s hard work.


  2. I don’t know if you feel this – in your blog posts yesterday and today it’s how I interpreted it… but I imagine its his choice to spend the time with Peaches that he did, and it “seems” like you’re placing negative feelings on her for being greedy for his time when I figure it is him you should take it up with if you did have an issue about it. Just makes me wonder if you are finding that easier than thinking about if there is something you needed to address with him.

    I did want to say that I’ve been reading your blog for a few months now and I’ve found it very valuable, a lot of similar things in my life that you write about that your posts have helped me get perspective on – just like today, a good reminder that it is MY plate I have to be looking at to figure out if I have enough on it, and nobody elses.


    • Funny you should notice that… I just reread them and totally saw that too. I WAS saying it was her, as though she set his schedule or something. But he is ultimately in charge of his schedule and he choose freely to spend his time the way he did and wasn’t wrong.
      I recognize that there ware kinda two things here. A) if I have a problem it should really be with HIM and not Peaches, and B) I actually don’t have a problem when I stop comparing and looking at other people’s plates. I’m actually really happy.

      Thanks for catching that!


    • Damn. And yes. I’m not sure exactly what it is I have to address with him or if it’s all stuff with me, but I do feel like I’m sort of prioritized lower than Peaches. As in, I think there is something under my difficulty. I think it’s ALL my stuff and not really something about him though. I have been thinking on it, but I’m just not sure yet. Maybe the whole thing is stupid. I mean, if he did prioritize Peaches, perhaps he does it as the best way to see both of us because I am more free than her or whatever. I guess I’m saying even if he prioritizes Peaches, is that necessarily nefarious and a reason to be upset? Maybe it doesn’t matter anyway and I’m wrong to worry about that.
      Also.. and I hate to admit this, especially after criticizing that Peaches doesn’t like to tell him uncomfortable stuff, but I kinda dread talking to him about stuff like that. Maybe I just even need to admit I’m thinking or feeling it, even if I kinda suspect it’s not really anything he is doing or anything he can change. Hmmm.. damn. Food for thought.


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