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Puerto Rico… part 3

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Having the second to last night of our trip together go so harshly, I sat at the bar in the hotel with my drink and big fat alligator tears rolled down my cheeks and on to the sparkling bar underneath my elbows. The bartender came over, reached out and brushed one off my cheek and stared at his finger and looked at me.

B- Tears? There’s no crying in paradise!

J- I’m overwhelmed, entirely.

B- Are you ok?

J- I’ll be fine.

B- Fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional?

J- Pretty much.

B- Aww beautiful lady, don’t cry.

I finished my drink and went up to the room to see if maybe we could salvage this night… drying my tears and smiling at the other people in the elevator.

I got to the room and my key wouldn’t work… so I had to knock until he let me in, and he was furious.

J- Listen. It’s late, we’re both tired and drunk. Let’s just go to bed and be done with this day.

T- I don’t want to touch you and I don’t want you next to me.

Tears… and lots of them… I sat in the bathtub and cried while he fell asleep alone. I climbed in bed after he was out cold and avoided him all night. I woke up with his arm wrapped around me and my heart just ached. I didn’t want there to be one bad moment on this trip.

My closest friends knew all there was to know. My Facebook page was freaking viral and they were all delighted that it was turning out to be everything I ever dreamed of. I left amidst my best friends telling me they expected regular proof-of-life text messages. He urged me to call my mom and we giggled on the phone together with her at one point.

It was so perfect… until it was so awful.

He was quiet when he woke up, and I rolled over and climbed on top of him. Fix it with sex. Twice. I’m nothing if not a creature of habit. I heard myself apologizing and saw the confusion on his face and realized he didn’t remember a lot. Uh oh…

J- Do you remember asking the parking lot attendant if he wanted me?

He laughs…

T- No. What’d he say? Senor, you can come out now!

J- Jerk. He was awkward, what would you say?

He growled at me, bit me on the chin and rolled me underneath him.

T- I’d have said yes, obviously.

Four hours working things out biblically, and he’s not angry at me anymore. We’re getting ready to leave and I throw a dress on.

T- Is that what you’re wearing?

J- Not anymore.

Wardrobe change and we’re out the door. I’m so in love with him I can’t see straight. I haven’t had sex in a car in years but spending hours in the car with him makes me reconsider. I really can’t put words to my feelings enough to express how much I loved him. I need a dozen new languages to mine adjectives from.

He drove me into the rain forest, and I absolutely fell another 20 miles for him. I’m a farmer… and the rainforest is like a garden of my houseplants. Orchids that match those tattooed on my arm, banana trees… birds. It’s just so much to take in and I’m already so vulnerable.

I start to cry. I can’t help it. I’m overwhelmed and so devastated that there’s only one day left. I miss him already and I can hardly breathe at the thought of going back to my life without him, with no sight of seeing him any time soon after tomorrow.

This is classic Jenni. I mourn the moment passing before it arrives. It was looking at a 30 foot fern that pushed me over the edge, and again in the gift shop when he smiled at me and held out a candle for me to smell.

I love this man so much. We work so well together and my life feels like a fucking fairytale and I like it. So shoot me. Fuck the details, my glass slippers had gotten dusty.

I’d sat in the mall the day before, in nothing but a sundress because I’d taken my wet swimsuit off… sitting gingerly and eating the sushi he’d bought for me… watching him stand in line and seeing him motion for me to start eating without him. My first thought? All that’s missing is a flash mob. My sundress is dangerously thin and I feel like climbing on the table to sing my love to this man. A woman walked up and smiled at me.

W- You are newlyweds. The way you look at your husband tells me.

I just smiled… and watching him walk towards me smiling gave me a few new wrinkles while mine deepened. Yup… I’m gonna marry the hell out of this divine creature…

But the rainforest overwhelmed me to the point I had to cry about it, to him.

J- I’m just overwhelmed. This is a lot and I miss you and I don’t want to miss you. You bring me here, show me all these amazing things, love me to my toes… and in two days I’ll be asking someone if they want chips or fries and shoveling snow. Ack.

T- Shhhhh, I’m right here.

We wandered around, and he showed me everything cool. We took my daughter’s bunny along with us, and Bailey nearly fell off the fence and into the rainforest. See?

He drove me deeper and deeper into forest-y bliss and I worked at fighting back the tears that were waiting to fall. We stopped at a waterfall and tried to take pictures. We climbed a tower. We kissed in the rainforest… we hiked to a waterfall. If he hadn’t been ten feet in front of me, I’d have pulled him off that path and had my way with him.

T- I wanna put a baby in your belly.

Gulp.

J- How do you feel about adoption? I’ve always wanted a baby from China. I read The Lost Daughters of China before my daughter was born and it changed my life.

T- Yeah I’m cool with that. I like my dress shirts starched and the Chinese do it best. Let’s get a black kid to do the yard work and a 17 year old french girl to clean the house too.

I’m speechless…

J- I get a 25 year old son for every 17 year old daughter you want to adopt.

T- Absolutely- we need some retarded kids too, just to balance it out.

Blink, blink, blink… I’m literally standing in the damn rain forest, in Puerto Rico, with the man of my dreams, who is mouthing words that make me want to vomit…. and laughing about them.

We drove back to the hotel and I pulled a dress out of my bag… tracing the seam with my fingernail and realizing the next time I wear it I’ll be heartsick. I’ll be away from him. I’ll be home.

He feels so much like where I want to be, forever…. ish.

There are red flags flying… and I’m working overtime to ignore them.

Fucking red flags…………. I want this, dammit… but no.

We sit down to eat after walking through the forest and being splashed by waterfalls and my hair full of flowers I’d picked…. and he smiles at me, and I lose it.

I dissolve… and cry… and miss him out loud… and stumble over my words.

J- Come with me. Come. I miss you already. This is awful and I can’t do this. I’m overwhelmed and I love you and this is just…. too much.

Big tears. Huge.

T- Wanna impress me? Bring me to your island.

J- It’ll take me a little bit, but ok. Deal. I love you.

T- I love you too.

The highlight? We found the cutest pregnant kitty at some roadside juice/food stand. We sat and drank coconut water out of coconuts, he fed me flan with his spoon and I could not resist playing with the sweet little bloated thing. She must have had a dozen babies in her belly… and she kinda loved me as much as I loved her. The pictures are on his phone or I’d show you. I kissed her cute little furry face and wished her luck birthing her MANY babies and she rolled onto her back in the sun. Lovely little creature… like a kindred spirit in my hour of need.

Jesus… this is so hard to write about…

Puerto Rico… part 2

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We got to the hotel and he handed the keys to the valet. I was doing my best to think this was completely normal.

He reached out and grabbed my hand and led me to the elevator, carrying my bag for me. I was speechless. The doors closed and he was there in front of me, the lips I’d craved for so long… touching mine. Inches off the ground and perfectly lined up with what I always dreamed of. Here he was… my everything… with the hands I’d always wanted to touch… pulling me to a hotel room in paradise.

How in the hell did I get here?

He opened the door to our room and poured me a cup of rum. I told him I thought I might be allergic… but it’s been since high school and I need a little liquid courage. He’s teaching me to chase it with guava juice. I’m laughing because I drink vodka on the rocks- so this is a little more sissyfied than I’m used to. Whatever- I can hang.

He kisses me… I set my rum down… and he smiles…. and I get it. I know what every bad date was worth because I love this man so completely I can’t breathe. He’s my everything… and I admit to it immediately.

J- I love you.

T- I love you too.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzip…. and my dress falls to my feet…. and the rest is too graphic to share. Regardless of the outcome I can honestly admit that it was the most amazing connection I’ve ever had- and intimately it will be hard to beat. I give credit where credit is due, and this man has his bases covered. Sexual warfare… nuff said.

He showed me beautiful things… he took me beautiful places… we giggled and laughed and fell in love over El Hamburger and sunshine. It was magic.

He fished a J shaped piece of coral out of the ocean and handed it to me while wrapping the chubby thighs I’d been so self conscious about, around his waist… kissing the saltwater off of my lips while I thanked God, all the angels & saints.

Eating the most amazing food, drinking the most amazing drinks, and having the time of my life in paradise with the man of my dreams. I can’t very well regret something like that, can I?

The second to last night… things turned a little. Shit got real….

We’d been at the beach all day and were clearly not going to make our dinner reservations. He rescheduled and started drinking rum. He only poured a glass for himself and I was content curled up next to him… lost in sunshiny salt-water sweetness. Stupid in love… and a movie came on.

He pointed to the actress on the screen and said…

T- That’s my favorite line on a woman. That definition in her six pack… that line…

A line that I clearly do not have. Huh.

T- Let’s go out. I’m hungry. You’re buying.

J- Ok.

I got ready in ten minutes and he was still in his boxers… still drinking. I was worried about him driving and did NOT want to drive.

J- Baby what about room service?

T- No. You’re taking me out tonight. I get to be the girl tonight.

J- Ok.

We got in the car and I was worried. I kept thinking about them really having to tell my mom I actually did DIE in Puerto Rico… I knew she was worried…

He was driving 35 mph over the limit… and looked over and smiled at my stunned wide-eyed face… and took his glasses off and put them in the center console.

J- Honey put those back on. Please.

T- They’re only for looks.

J- No they’re not… I tried them on yesterday!

He’s not negotiating… and I’m wishing I had four more seatbelts.

We get there… and go out… and the restaurant is closed but he asks them if they’ll make something anyway. I’m horrified… but they agree and we sit down to eat the weirdest fried chicken and fried cheese, ever. He doesn’t ask me if/what I want… and I pick at the chicken a little… but not much.

He’s making a big deal about being the girl on the date, and telling me I need to ask for the La Quenta… I’ve gone to Mexico every winter since I was a kid, I know how to ask for the check in Spanish… I’m just shy in front of him and he is only making it worse. He starts to pick me apart.

T- You need to want more. You need to be more successful for your kids. You’re not doing what you should and I don’t know if you ever will. You need to write your son off. Fuck him. He needs to understand what it is to feel your cold shoulder.

I start to cry.

J- I can’t. I love him. I miss him every day. I can’t leave them. I won’t leave them. Even if he hates me, he’s still just down the street. My daughter is the center of my life. I’ll never leave her.

T- You need to live your own life. I like being the girl on the date. Let’s go. Ask for the la quenta…

I tip them 50% of our tab for making us food after they were closed, and we move to his favorite martini bar. Tantra. Every drink on the menu is based on the Kama Sutra and they all have rose petals floating in the glass. Beautiful and delicious. I have a stress headache and he’s making it worse. He starts talking about the Indian girl’s body and how sad it is that “none of them have tits”. I’m uncomfortable and he’s only getting worse. He starts in about the la quenta again and I’m only too happy to leave.

His other favorite bar is closed and he’s pissy. We walk into another one, and sit at the bar. The bartender is busy making drinks and my charming date starts to snap his fingers. I’m horrified and beg him to stop and he starts to clap. I want to dig a hole and climb in. The bartender walks over to us…snaps his fingers once and asks what he can get for us.

T- We’ll have two Caipirinhas.

J- No. I’ll have a double Goose on the rocks.

T- Ohhhhh feeling feisty? I’ve read about you and Grey Goose.

J- Yeah you’ve read about Veruca too, and you’d better brace yourself because Veruca on Goose is not funny.

He orders me another one… and I’m tipping the poor bartender $10 on each round. So embarrassed and so insulted that he would be so rude to someone that does the same job I do. Disappointed and offended. We leave and make our way back to the car and at this point I know he’s going to be the death of me. I pay the parking and he asks the parking attendant if he wants me, because I don’t want to go anywhere else with him and I’m making him go home. It’s 3 in the morning and I’m exhausted and unhappy. Moderately drunk, but more disgusted than anything.

And he can’t remember where he parked the car. 13 levels of cars in the wee hours of the morning and I’m in my favorite stilettos with my drunk asshole boyfriend and I snap.

J- Are you fucking kidding me? I cannot believe you tonight. You told me I didn’t want to meet your “Tommy” personality and I can definitely agree with you now. You’re being a jackass.

and he find it… and we drive back to the hotel in silence, and I head straight to the bar and order a drink and he ignores me. He sits for a while in the lobby… then sits on the opposite side of the bar… and stops to say one thing to me on his way out…

T- Ya know… this isn’t even a tenth of Tommy and you can’t handle it. That concerns me.

I start to cry and he walks away, flinging a room key at me. The guy next to me picks it up from the floor and sets it on the bar.

What have I gotten myself into?

Puerto Rico…part 1

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The reality is never as pretty as the fantasy… unfortunately.

A year ago, while whining about the current douche bag to cross my path, some amazing comment on my blog comes chiming in. Some stranger that has silver coated syllables is reading my journal? Weird. I’m immediately intrigued and click over to read his blog. Golden words. Nothing short of verbal porn, with a side of Shark… and we all know I have a certain weakness for that sort of thing.

He’s even bald. Be still my heart. He lives in paradise. He’s so exactly what and who I want, I could have ordered him for myself. He sends me an email… and it’s even more intoxicating.

But I was involved with someone close enough to touch… so I didn’t pay much attention.

And he kept on reappearing. He wasn’t intimidated by my disinterest. I blogged about him a few times. They were all true and I really thought he was the most amazing man I’d ever read about.

The man I was in love with at the time, said it out loud for the first time.

♥- I like this T guy… and I think he gets you. How outrageous would that be? I think you should talk to him.

It hurt to hear at the time, but it planted a seed….

I emailed him back eventually… and things heated up quickly. He woke me up every morning with the best app I ever downloaded, with sweet words and just…. intoxicating male perfection.

His text messages were so good my best friends begged me to give him their numbers. His emails were orgasm-worthy. Good enough I never deleted one.

I asked him to guest blog for me because I wanted to see what he’d write. It blew my mind, and the minds of many.

He started talking about the ultimate roll of the dice… a weekend in Puerto Rico together. I told him from the beginning I couldn’t afford it. He told me I could pay for meals for a few days- that was do-able.

He bought me a ticket….

I talked to my sister about it first.

J- So… I think I’m going to go to Puerto Rico and meet him.

P- Have him come here. I want to meet him and that’s a long way from home.

J- Yeah, in paradise… in February. He’ll come here next.

P- I don’t know…

J- I feel it… I love him already. I’m going.

I didn’t really know how to tell people. I requested the time off work and go to the line that said “Reason:” and froze. I wrote Puerto Rico… and walked away feeling naked. To be completely honest… I’m a chicken shit in my life. I don’t do the scary things. I don’t roll dice. I’m a big fan of helmets. I needed to have enough faith in myself to go.

4000 miles for a first date. A first date with a man I’d already fallen in love with. Wondering how this worked, how this was going to go and immediately feeling inadequate listening to him talk about the girls he dates. 6′ blonde girls in their twenties. Awesome. I called my best guy friend and he came over. I stripped down to my panties and told him I was freaking out about getting naked in front of this guy and he laughed at me.

B- You’re beautiful, and I hope he doesn’t see it. I hope you have a nice time, but it really doesn’t matter. We love you- and he’d better take care of you. I don’t want to pick you up from the airport in a bag.

J- Don’t say that.

B- You look great naked, relax…

J- You’re just making me feel better.

B- You look kinda orange but you have big tits, you’ve got this- RELAX! He loves YOU. Even the nasty bitch you can be on your blog. If he’s worried about about your chubby thighs then fuck him, he’s older than you- he should be thanking his lucky stars.

J- He dates six foot blonde girls in their twenties.

B- Yeah me too… come on Jen… don’t lose your head. Don’t jump in head first and DO NOT be clingy. You do that. I’ve seen it. Ugh. Find your confidence and take those panties. Damn.

J- I love you. Thanks.

I packed my suitcase a dozen times. A dozen dresses. A dozen pairs of heels… I broke one side of the buckle a month before I was due to leave. Overcompensating? Yes. If he only knew what I left at home…

I didn’t sleep the night before I left. Sober One Kenobe came over and made me into some sort of blonde bombshell. My sister drove me to the airport in the early twilight hours. I got out of the car and she walked around and looked at me and I started to cry.

J- I can’t believe I’m doing this.

P- Me either… but I’m so proud of you and I’m just… so proud. You’re going for it and you’re going big. I hope it’s everything you ever wanted. I hope it’s amazing. Enjoy every second.

Walking into the airport was overwhelming. Checking in for my first flight was terrifying. Handing my passport to the man in the security line was seriously an out of body experience.

It just kept hitting me. I was seriously flying 4000 miles to meet the man of my dreams. In a little black Ann Taylor dress and my favorite Coach bag… Maggie. My red leather security blanket… and my daughter’s bunny tucked inside. Praying I wasn’t putting my life on the line and I could just dive in head first without checking the depth of the pool… shocker.

I sat between a bunch of beautiful soldiers on my first flight and they were quick to reassure me, and buy me a few drinks…. A cool du-wop band on my second flight and an amazing couple on my last flight. I wanted to brush my teeth more than anything when we landed… but the airport was closed and the bathrooms were locked. We were the last flight of the night.

My phone was flashing the little red “I’m about to die” light at me… and I was facing the scariest moment of my life.

What if I didn’t recognize him? What if he didn’t like me? What if he was disappointed in my short curvy ass…. Damn near hyperventilating…. and a text comes in. A friend of mine… possibly the only one I can talk to about this moment.

I’m looking around and realizing that he’s not here…. or I’m living the moment I fear most and I’m not recognizing him. I decide to play it safe, find an outlet and plug in my phone charger…. and read the text that came in.

F- There yet?

J- Just landed.

F- I’m really happy for you. I hope it’s great.

J- I’m scared to death.

F- Relax. He loves you.

J- He’s not here.

F- What????????????

J- Everyone is gone… I’m not kidding. He’s not here.

F- WTF? Did you call him?

J- He didn’t answer both times.

F- Call him until he does.

J- He was asleep… he’s on his way.

F- I’m worried.

I stopped responding. He was only increasing my level of anxiety. Google said the hotel was 15 minutes away… so I walked outside. The balmy warm heat hit me and I knew I was going to have to open my suitcase to find my perfume. I didn’t know if I’d be able to get it closed though… I couldn’t not… so I pulled the trigger and it sprung open. It took me climbing on it to get it closed again, with darling airport guys walking by laughing and teasing me in Spanish. I found a little tourist stand with two Time magazines and started reading…

An hour later he drove up. He called me just before pulling up.

T- Are you in a black dress?

Gulp.

J- Yep.

and he hung up… and he drove up… and he walked up…

and I kissed him.

Angels sang… ish.

T- Let’s get out of here.

He threw my suitcase in the back and we got in… and it was silent. Awkward silence because I’m literally sitting next to him for the first time and I am LOST for words. I reach over and put my hand on his thigh and he growls at me.

Dear God in heaven… thank you, thank you, thank you….

Oh She of so much faith…

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I woke up to silence… a tiny furry Yorkie dog sleeping as close as he can get to me without being actually ON me. Kicking the covers off, knowing as soon as my naked foot landed on top of the fluffy cloud of down comforters heaped on my bed, my little Tucker Max would be running for my sparkly red toenails. He loves feet. Especially mine.

Giggling & fighting him from licking my toes as he tunnels under the sheets to follow them, I’m forced out of bed to let him out.

On a soft dusky rainy morning in a sleepy silent house. It’s 65* with a latte and the hot tub beckoning me. In nothing but my new Halloween pumpkin panties that say “Trick me”  and the candy necklace my darling friend brought me last night as a gesture of “I told you so” love. Goosebumps spreading from my neck to my knees reminding me that fall is in the air. Smiling at the seasons. Happy with the perennial details.

I love the little things that mean so much. I love the tiny details that make me happy. The perfect imperfection of my life that keeps me going.

I put a million things away today, I folded laundry for hours. I swept, mopped, dusted and ran for a while. I focused on the one foot in front of the other approach, knowing what peace there is in the details. Clean floors make me smile. A clean refrigerator makes life beautiful. A nail appointment where he takes one look at me and frowns.

N- How’s the love life- uh oh.

J- No bueno. He died a quick death just like the rest of them. Lying, cheating, you name it… same old story.

N- No. You need one nice man. Not bad boy. You are very nice, you are a good woman. You will be happy, not sad.

J- Aww, thanks… but I’m inclined to think it doesn’t exist. I’m more than a little jaded these days.

N- I’m a good husband. A good father. I love my family. You will find that too.

This is just awesome, even my favorite nail guy is feeling sorry for me. Awesome…. he replaces them completely, makes them sparkly and talks me into an eyebrow wax.

So I look like a blonde girl with Asian skinny eyebrows… lesson learned. In fact I think I was born with thicker eyebrows than I have right now.

Still, I left feeling a million times better. Prettier… not so completely offended. Reaffirmed and readjusting to silence between us where he’d been so present before. For the record, the silence sucks most of all. It’s the biggest downside to breaking the addiction.

As a comfort eater from the word GO, I have pizza on the brain, combined with not wanting to cook in my lovely sparkly new pink nails… Gourmet Vegetarian pizza from Papa Murpy’s Take & Bake. With Canadian bacon… because it’s better like that 🙂

A fifth of Goose from the liquor store… because it’s that sort of week. Ohhhh and olives from the olive bar… ever the olive junkie.

I miss him as a diversion. Plain and simple. The reality of him is far different. He’s a snake in a polo. A shark in argyle. An asshole in a nice guy’s costume.

Who knows what or who he is, I don’t think he even knows… and I know precisely the woman I am.

I’m a dirty princess. I weed in designer jeans. I wear gloves to cover my beautiful nails and I get dirty. I garden, I can veggies and jam. I knit. I sew. I paint. I write. I smile you into smiling with me. I dance my feet to hell and gone. I work my ass off. I do more in a day than most people in a week. I juggle more right now than anyone else I know.

I’m fucking exhausted, and gawd dammit I deserve a man that isn’t a douche bag.

I deserve someone worth spoiling equally as much as I deserve to be spoiled. It all seems to be such an imbalance.

So I did what any self respecting faithful princess does…

and I bought myself a pumpkin…. a Cinderella pumpkin to be specific.

My $6 says it’s ok to have faith… and it’s ok to believe in fairytales and pumpkins.

My $6 says it’s ok to continually roll the dice, even though I’m equipped with a douche bag magnet and the odds are stacked against me.

At some point? I’m going to roll the dice and win.

At some point? They can’t all be frogs.

He doesn’t need to be a prince. Just good. Just honest… and worthy of the ridiculously delightful feminine hurricane I am. Capable of keeping up with the tornado of yarn & fabric. In love with my pickled asparagus. Sincere in his words and actions… and inspirational enough to leave me torn between curling up in his arms to fall asleep and getting up to write about him.

He just needs to make me think, make me feel and make me laugh… at myself…

But never at my princess pumpkin, or the heart that believes in the magic of it.

I’m canning ginger peach jam tomorrow… along with white plum vanilla bean… all before work.

More importantly? I’m smiling every time I see my pumpkin, blissful with a side of smug.

What a stupid foolish boy with horrible taste and what a ridiculous crybaby to waste a minute crying over someone who wasn’t even worthy.

Sparkly pink nails are wonderful…but my Cinderella pumpkin fixed everything.

Here’s to the best $6 I’ve ever spent.

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