I was warned that sometime during the night, I might wake to find a naked man lying next to me. At approximately four o’clock in the morning, I did, indeed, wake to find a naked man snuggled up next to me. We began to talk and giggle and could not go back to sleep. We decided to take Bo out for a walk at around six thirty. We talked and laughed and finally made love at around eight thirty. We spent the rest of the day sucking face. It feels like love, it acts like love, it must be love.

As I walked in the sunshine with the cool breeze blowing against my skin and in my hair, I thought to myself, what a wonderful world. Bo trotted along happy to be out and about. I had left Big M in bed as he was not feeling well. I lay down in the grass and closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of life invade my very being. I meditated on all that is good and right with my life right now. Then, as though I had conjured him up, he appeared on the hill to join Bo and me.

We laugh. We laugh in the morning, we laugh at night. We laugh when our arms are around each other tight. We laugh in the bed, we laugh on the floor. We laugh at each other and then we laugh some more. We laugh in the sunshine, we laugh in the dark. We laugh until the ember becomes a spark. We laugh about this, we laugh about that. We laugh until our bellies grow fat. We laugh until we cry, we laugh until we have no breath. We will laugh forever, even beyond death. We laugh. We laugh. We laugh.

It isn’t easy finding alone time with my new guy. He lives with his mother. I live with my son. He prefers to hang out at my place. That’s his choice. We aren’t established enough yet to bother his mom with our canoodling. I understand he might not feel comfortable with me around his mom. He doesn’t feel comfortable showing affection to me around my son. I believe it may be the age difference. He has stated that if a man his age was hanging out with his mom, he would want to open a can of whoop ass! Ha!

Big M came over around noon today. I was home sick with a sore throat. I thought we had the whole afternoon to ourselves. I had let the Prodigal Son take my car to work so I would not have to get out of my sick bed to drive his ass. As expectedly, he walked in a little after noon for his lunch hour. He then announced that he had the rest of the day off due to lack of work. Shucks!!! Our quiet afternoon alone became infested with my wonderful son’s company. He’s like a boil on my butt!

Life is like a roller coaster. Ups and downs, ups and downs, ups and downs until I’m sick and dizzy from it all. The Prodigal Son was informed that his assignment is over. Why can’t we get a fucking break? When is he going to find something where he can earn a decent salary and know it’ll be around for awhile? I don’t know how much more I can take. I need him to be on his own. I am having a hard enough time taking care of myself. As long as he’s not a burden, I can make it.

Back up on the roller coaster again. The company called and asked for the Prodigal Son to come back. So, today, he’s back a work. What are they trying to do, give me a freaking heart attack? Every time I begin to feel a little easier, something happens and I tense up. Then something good happens and I relax. Tense up, relax, tense up, relax, tense up, relax, tense up, relax. That is all I’m about these days. Up and down. That roller coaster just will not come to a complete stop no matter how much I want it too.

Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain.

Just to clarify, I was not in pain yesterday. I am struggling to complete my words from being very far behind. The pain I referenced yesterday was due to the fall that has not yet occurred. That’s the thing about getting behind. Getting the sequence of days right. This is not easy to keep up with. Sometimes I don’t particularly feel like writing and before you know it, the little blue boxes are adding up. Damn hard to catch up. So, please excuse the schizo nature of my March words. I’m really not that disorganized. I’m just a scatterbrain sometimes.

The Prodigal Son is still working at his temporary employment assignment. He really likes it there. They like him. He’s working in a warehouse situation. He helps with packaging and shipping. The company manufactures sound equipment for homes and offices. That is right up his ally. If he plays his cards right, this will stick for a while. I do believe this is his first full-time job. He is working Monday through Friday, from 8 to 5, just like any other ordinary individual. I can only hope and pray the company decides to hire him on permanently. Say a prayer?

The pain pierced her side in a white hot wave as it tore through her body. She couldn’t believe she had just fallen over while trying to sit down for a pee. “How the Hell did I do that,” she cried. All she wanted to do was get up and go to the bathroom. As luck would have it, she was still half-asleep and fuzzy headed. She headed to the bathroom as usual, but this time she lost her balance. As she fell, her left side caught the top of the bathtub. “Fucking dumb, idiot, clutz,” she thought. It hurt!!!

I questioned Big M a little too much about what’s happening between us. He reacted typical. I sometimes sense that he’s pulling back since we began getting sexual and romantic. He doesn’t want to put a label on us, as in boyfriend/girlfriend. But we spend more time together than most couples I know, we certainly get along and the kissing and passion are right on target. So, why does he get bent when I gently ask him where this is going? I don’t know, he says. I almost cried, but I refuse to let one more man make me cry!

I definitely busted some ribs when I fell in the bathroom the other night. The pain is unbearable. Naturally, Big M offered to come over and make my lunch and help me around. One minute I think he’s about to turn the tables and tell me he thinks we should go back to being friends and the next, he’s acting more like a boyfriend than a friend. It’s the way he strokes my hair and I catch him looking at me with “that” look. He’s nuts if he thinks he doesn’t have strong feelings for me. I can see it.

It’s Friday. I’m off work early again. My side is hurting awfully bad. The only thing getting me through this is painkillers. I swear, if these things were easily accessible, I’d become a freaking addict. I must confess, they help with the pain, but they also help my mood. I think they put something in those suckers to help you forget about the pain. I get this warm, fuzzy feeling all over and feel on top of the world. I wish I could feel that way without a chemical pick me up. Like I said, I could easily become addicted.

Wrong day. Again. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain.

Wow! Even with busted ribs, I could still have sex. I didn’t think it would be possible, but since all I had to do was lie there, worked for me! Big M was a little friskier than usual this weekend. He nailed me Friday night, Saturday morning and Sunday morning. What is it with guys and their morning woodies? I’m much friskier in the evening than in the morning. But I’ll take what I can get at this point. It was pretty good, I will admit. Wish he was like that every weekend. I could get might used to that!

I tried to work a full day today, but just couldn’t make it. I left early again. It’s a good thing I have plenty of free days to use when sick or on vacation. I just couldn’t sit for eight hours today. This is a lot different than when I broke my foot. At least my foot is at the very end of my body. I don’t use it to breath, turn from side to side in bed, bend over, reach for something, sit in an upright position. All of these things hurt now. Can’t wait for this to pass.

Big M has a problem. It is a problem that when viewed straight forward, doesn’t seem so big. In fact, it is small. It is a shard of glass that he lodged into his foot when he was making me a sandwich the day after I had my fall. Poor thing. He was trying to help me and hurt himself in the process. Why is it a big problem, you ask? Well, we couldn’t get it out the conventional way. He had to see a doctor and get x-rays. Now, he has to see a surgeon to have it removed.

I don’t know what to write. Should I write about love? Should I write about lost love? Should I write about how I feel about lost love? Should I write about the fact that the one man who was ever “in love” with me also happened to be the biggest loser on earth? Should I write about the fact that he is still in jail and calls my cell phone collect? Should I write about the fact that he tried to call me 3 times on Easter weekend? Should I write about the fact that I didn’t accept his calls?

I am in another pickle financially. I was claiming exempt for the last few months of 2007 because I needed the extra cash in my check to pay the attorney for my bankruptcy. I worked on my taxes and according to TurboTax, I owe 3700 plus dollaroos! How the hell can that be? I only made about $5000 more and last year my tax burden was only about 1800. I make five grand more, and my tax burden rises by $2500 to $3000? That makes no sense. I’m just going to send monthly payments. Surely they can’t lock me up???

I cried and I cried. The subject of what is going on with Big M came up again. I have noticed that he vacillates between being very affectionate or not very affectionate at all. He tells me that he isn’t sure about his feelings for me. He is not where I’m at yet. He says “yet.” So, I decided to end the sexual contact between us. He was hesitating anyway. He could see how choked up I got when he denied feelings for me. I really don’t know how much more I can take of men and their freaking fickleness.

Big M left for Half-pint’s to help her move yet again. I couldn’t help this time. After I busted my ribs, I didn’t get much housework done over the past week or so. I did three loads of laundry. I vacuumed my whole apartment. I made my bed. I cleaned the kitchen floor. I cleaned the bathroom floor. I cleaned the toilet. I took out all the trash. I took a bath and relaxed until Big M came back. Naturally, he was inebriated from drinking with Half-pint. Things went better this time. I didn’t expect anything, so I wasn’t disappointed.

Easter Sunday was a fine affair. Big M had mentioned only spending maybe one night at my place and not at all on Easter. He ended up staying Friday night, Saturday night and accompanied me to our mutual friend’s house for Easter dinner. The food was fantastic, the conversation lively. Jules referred to Big M as my boyfriend. I quickly corrected her. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him. We spend so much time together; everyone is seeing it that way but him. What difference would it make if we labeled our relationship that way? Not a damn thing!

I received a text message from an old friend located back home in Louisiana. Bennett is someone I’ve known for a long time. He is someone I have great affection for. He is also the widowed husband of my best friend from High School who recently passed away. I was very surprised. I text him back and he called me immediately. Seems he wants to see me when I come to town in June for my thirty year class reunion. Seems he wants to finally do what he’s wanted to do since High School. A long distance booty call. Priceless!

I have figured out the difference between men and women concerning sex. I was thinking about men’s masturbation habits and it dawned on me that that is why they can go so long without sex and have sex without emotional attachment. Sex is a release for them. Release by hand is as good as sex with a woman. As long as they have their hand, they don’t need us. A woman can get the same release herself, but she’s looking for more than release when she has sex. She’s looking for the emotional connection as well. They simply are not.

Bennett is calling me almost every night lately. He is really looking forward to seeing me in June. He has it all planned out. He is going to get us a hotel room in West Monroe for Friday night. The next day, we’ll go to the reunion separately and keep our dirty little secret to ourselves. Then we will leave and go back to the hotel until Sunday. He has been cracking me up with the “You teased me to death 30 years ago and now I need payback.” He’s gonna get it all right. I have absolutely no reservations.

Shouldn’t I feel just a little guilty carrying on conversations with Bennett on the one hand and spending most of my free time with Big M? I don’t think so. IF Big M wanted me to shun all other men and cling only to him, then he should bite the bullet and just say so. He is the one who tells me he doesn’t care if I see anyone else. But if I’m going to have sex with someone, at least inform him so that he can make a decision about whether he wants to continue having sex with me.

Well, it’s Friday night and I’m alone. Big M has opted to not come over tonight. He has spent every Friday night with me since after Christmas. The Prodigal Son is also gone off to hang with his friends. Do I care? Not on your life! I have so much company these days between my friends and my son’s friends, that when I get some alone time, I eat it up. I took a long, hot bath. I cleaned the kitchen and ordered take out. I watched TV and snuggled with Bo until I was sleepy enough to go crash.

I drank too much tonight. I awoke around 12:30 in the morning to find the apartment empty. Big M had left. Was he mad at me about the text that he accidentally found on my phone? I was texting Bennett in Louisiana on Friday night because I was alone (Big M didn’t come over for the first Friday in months) and bored. Bennett had asked if I would call him the next time I felt like taking care of some business, if you know what I mean. He never got back to me. Big M was miffed just the same.

So I ask Big M if he’s mad about the Bennett situation. I explain that, first of all, Bennett and I had no correspondence prior to his (Big M) telling me that he hadn’t arrived at the same feelings that I had since we began our intimate contact. In other words, no girlfriend or boyfriend label. So, I figure I’m a free agent still and if I want to see Bennett when I go home for the reunion, he shouldn’t care. He says he doesn’t. But he doth protest too much, me thinks. But still no sex, for now, anyway.

The Prodigal Son’s assignment has once again been terminated. According to his source at the employment agency, the company didn’t need his services due to a slow down in production. I felt that it may have had something to do with his not going into work today due to his toothache. And then there is the fact that he went to Las Vegas on a spontaneous trip with friends and arrived home late. Either way, he’s out of work again. This has got to stop eventually. He has to find work that is ongoing and permanent. It’s the only way.