i just wanted a cuddle

I finally admitted defeat at 12:30am.

I just couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, I was starting to fidget on the sofa and I could see J was getting equally tired.

I walked over, took his hand and said ‘come to bed and give me a cuddle…..’

It was in my most sultry, soft voice.

Do you know what he said?

I just want to rub my head in your boobies!

And then he did.

Then he asked me if I felt sexy.

What?  What the hell? Are you serious?

Let me think, do I feel sexy after you manhandled me and rubbed your head between my boobs?

No.  I do not.

Not even a little bit.

What is it with men and their love of all thing breast?  I just don’t get it?

I mean I don’t walk around staring at J’s crotch and thinking ‘God I’d love to get my head in there’ and I certainly don’t walk around randomly talking to ‘Little J’

The same can not be said for men and breasts.

I’ve actually lost count of the number of times I’ve been out and been chatting to a guy at a bar and had to stop him to tell him to make eye contact with me because he was talking to my boobs.  One guy even told me he had names for them once!

Fuck.  Off.  Purlease.

Boobs are just boobs.  I mean, they stick out the front, block the view of your feet, feed babies and generally get in the way some times.

Just boobs.

What is the fascination with them?

J says they’re his.

Well, he’s can have them.

Let’s see how well he fares with them for a few days.

Doubt very much he’ll be wanting to permanently rub his head in them then!

parlez-vous anglais?

So, it’s J’s birthday in a couple of weeks and I had been stumped on what to get him for his birthday.

I was going to take us to Rome for the weekend.  Kind of a joint Christmas/birthday present for him and a nice weekend break for ‘us’.

It’s probably been quite obvious that we haven’t, at some points during 2009, been getting on so great.  Mostly to do with Miss Thing kicking my rational conscience out and taking up residence.  She’s been here too long and I’m working on the eviction notice as we speak.

But atlas, like another kick in my arse, Rome was not to be

Instead he was spoiled at christmas what with lots of man gadgets (xBox Live subscription, aftershave, games) and a new computer monitor.  Why the man needs to two in order to function in polite society is quite beyond me.  But hey, what do I know, I can’t even turn the bloody xBox on without one-on-one tuition from Keira!

Instead I opted to organise a nice meal and thought as his family live nearly 2 hours away, I’d invite them up.

Now, it was going to be a surprise.  The kind of situation where we walk into the restaurant and he finds everyone waiting for him and feels the love wrap him like his favourite winter coat.

But let’s be honest people, who in their right mind would drive 2 hours for dinner?

That’s right.  No one.

(I’d like to point out right about now that I had told his mum etc they could stay over.  Of course.  I’m not a total bitch)

Then I thought about removing the surprise, inviting everyone up and going out anyway.  But that doesn’t have a wow factor to it.

Why does it need a wow factor?

Because my boyfriend is a geek.  A major geek (hot though.  Very hot).

The only thing he wants for his birthday is some all action, all knowing remote control that can allegedly control every piece of entertainment equipment we have: the telly, the CD player, the xBox, the Media Centre (don’t ask, I just about know how to turn the bloody thing on).

And I am NOT buying it.  I refuse.

There is nothing sexy about buying a bloody remote control and I don’t think we’re anywhere near that stage in our relationship.  Yet.

So I chat to his mum about who is all ‘OK, well, let me have a think about it, let me see what we’re doing’.

Oh no.  She’s going to say no and then I’ll have to buy the remote control so that he gets excited.  Well, it’s that or super sexy underwear to entice him with and given that I’m having a ‘fat month’ thats even less likely than me winning the lottery.

Then on NYE she called me.  Here’s how the conversation went:

Mum2: Hello Darling

Me: Hello.  How are you?

Mum2:  Good thank you.  Tired after christmas though.

Me: Yeah, christmas was lovely.  Same time next year?!

Mum2: Absolutely – you can cook though.

Me: hahaha

I walk to the top of the landing and call J and tell him his mums on the phone.  He immediately comes upstairs, removes the phone from my hand and starts to chat.

J:  Hi Mum.  How are you.

I glare at him whilst he makes polite chit chat.

Rude sod.  I was actually talking still……..

some silence here whilst J just nods….

J: Oh.  OK.  It’s for you.

He hands me back the phone.

Mum2:  So, do you still want to take J out for dinner.

Me:  Absolutely.  Can you guys make it

I’m acutely aware at this point that J is hovering around, obvious that something is being planned so I gently shove usher him out of the room.

Mum2:  Would you like to take him to dinner in Paris?

Stunned silence at my end.

Mum2:  Hello?

Me: Yup, still here.  I’m sorry, did you say Paris?

Mum2: Yes.

Me: Er…. Um, really?  How… I don’t get it.

Mum2:  Well, I was thinking that for both of your birthdays we would pay for you to get the Eurostar to Paris with a two night stay.  You just need spending money.  Like I say, it’ll be a joint birthday present.

Me:  Well, that’s very nice but, um, I’d need to talk to our works to see if we can get the time off.

Mum2: OK Darling, well you do that and let me know.  I’ve got the full itinerary here.  Call me and let me know.

Me:  OK.  Chat soon.

We both hang up.

In pops Miss Thing with her two pence worth:

hahahahahahaha, pissed on your fire from a great height didn’t she.  There you were with your romantic gesture when in trumps Ma with a bigger and better gift.  Thrown a real spanner in the works didn’t it?  Hmmm, hmmm???  Silly cow – thinking you could do well with this one.

I took a deep breath and listened calmly to the other voice that said:

What a lovely thing to do.  She didn’t have to go out of her way, to research a weekend break for us, to have time to ourselves for both our birthdays so soon after having Christmas.  This is just what we need.

Miss Things stomped out, hands on hips wiggling her arse as if she were chewing gum with it.

So there we have it.  A weekend for us, in Paris.  I can’t wait.  I’ve never been to Paris.

The culture, the architecture, the Eiffel Tower.

And the cuisine.  Let’s not forget the cuisine.

Oooh, so much to see and do.  I uber excited.

I’m not eating frogs legs though.

That’s just gross.

I hear voices

Well not voices as such. 

Just the one voice.  A womans voice. 

A pissy, bitchy woman whispering crap about J.  Places doubt in my head.

For the purpose of the post that’ll come later I’ll call her Miss Thing.

Miss Thing and I are due a major fall out….

Note to self: you’re a muppet

It’s after 11pm.  I can hear the rain pelting against the bedroom window and the wind is so strong it sounds like the windows are going to blow in.

I’m laid in bed, snuggled up to J.  All is calm, quiet and peaceful.

I break the silence:

Me: Why do you love me?

WHAT! 

SHUT UP!  SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

Epic fail me.  Epic fail.

Grrr quick, quick – take the question back! 

Oh God, has he heard it?  Has he heard the question?  The little voice in my head tells me to roll over, very slowly and look - if his eyes are still closed he hasn’t heard and I can sleep easily……

Gingerly I roll over so I’m laid face to face.

Damn it. 

J’s eyes are open, full whack and he’s kind of just grinning at me. 

He’s saying nothing.

Why?  Why isn’t he saying anything?  Why isn’t he laid there declaring his undying love for me?  Who cares if it’s after 11pm and we’re trying to get to sleep???? Hmmm??

WHAT IS HIS PROBLEM?

Has he forgotten why he loves me?  Why can’t he find a single endearing feature of mine to love (although in his defence I’m wondering myself at this point if I actually have any endearing features )

Worst still – does he love me at all?

It was too much to bear.  One million stupid, stupid thoughts in what felt like half a second. 

Short of taking myself into the hallway and kicking my own ass I opted simply to tell myself again that I’m an idiot and close my eyes hoping that I’ll a) forget what had just happened and b) try and think of something else to change the subject.

Me: Baby, did you lock the front door?

J: No baby, you did

Me: Oh, of course I did.  G’night.

J kind of strokes my hair and just says “Good night baby”

Fuck, fuck and double fuck!

5 little words was all it took to change my mood. 

Will I never learn!

Stupid, stupid, idiot.

Lie to me….

I will never understand the male psyche?

I mean, what personality characteristic is it that some men possess that allows them to believe it’s OK to cheat on their wife and children?

I have been in relationships where the man I’ve been with cheat.  I’ve heard countless times the old ‘it’s-not-you-it’s-me story.

I know it’s not.  I know I’m not the problem, because if I was – we’d have talked about it.

Which begs the question – what is it about you that makes you want to sneak about town behind your partners back, lie to their face and deliberately deceive them?  Does the adrenalin pump so hard that it feels like a drug induced high?  Something you can’t get enough of and that, since you weren’t caught, you feel is your right to have over and over again?

I do not like men who cheat and I despise any form of liar.  Anyone who tells me that either I was lied to or someone else was lied to for ‘their own good’ should be slapped.  Lying to save someones feelings is not acceptable and quite frankly I’d rather you didn’t spare them.

Besides my own experience, here’s what happened to only reaffirm my belief:

My friend (who shall remain anonymous) met a man in September 2008.  She was absolutely bowled over by him.  So much so that when she went on a once in a lifetime trip around Australia in the December of that year she didn’t take up a single offer of a date that she got during her trip.

Before she left for Oz, things with her and Mr X got quite serious.

Problems started at 5 weeks into them dating when he slipped himself up.  Up until that point he’d made references to his son (who he’d been quite open about) and his ex girlfriend.  He let it slip during one conversation that his ex girlfriend was actually his wife. And not an ex-wife.  One he was still (unhappily) married to.  Oh dear.

Why she didn’t walk away at that point is beyond me.  I couldn’t tell you how many times I tried to convince her to leave his lying ass.  Afterall, if he lied about something monumental like his marital status – what else was he lying about?

Well, he was also lying about the fact that his (ex) wife was pregnant!  Pregnant for christ sake??  How do you ‘forget’ to tell someone that your wife is expecting your SECOND child?  Things at home can’t be that bad surely because 15 weeks ago they were good enough for you to have sex with and impregnate your wife!!!!

She went to Oz in December with a view to thinking it over.  He gave her some waffle about how she’d blown him away, he’d never felt like this …. <insert more lies here>

She didn’t take up a single offer of a date that she had whilst she was away.  In fact, she couldn’t wait to get home and see him.

So she got back to the UK, carried on seeing him and carried on believing every lie that came out of his mouth.  Stuff like ‘I love you so much….’, ‘I’ve never felt like this before’, ‘I feel alive when I’m with you’, and my personal favourite: ‘there is nothing between my wife and I.  It’s over’

He told her over and over again that he was going to leave his wife but that he couldn’t because he needed to know where he stood with access to his kids.  He promised her that once he’d seen a solicitor he would move out.  Hell, he even told me the same thing, in February this year to be exact.

His second child was born at the end of March.  A date which, by his own admission, he didn’t know.  How can you not know when your baby is due for crying out loud?

It took him months to see the solicitor.  July to be precise.  Then he found more excuses why he couldn’t leave his wife.  His wife was poorly because she was breastfeeding, his wife’s grandpa was poorly.  Excuse after excuse after excuse.

But the saddest thing is that all the while he was letting his son establish a relationship with my friend.

His wife found out eventually.  The spineless sod left a photo of him and my friend lying around for his wife to find.  He protested that it was an accident and that he never meant for her to find out like that (more lies).  For one brief moment, I thought maybe, just maybe, he was going to turn a corner and do the right thing.

No.  He had hoped his wife would make things easy for him, packs his bag and throw him out.  But she decided that she was going to fight for her man and insisted they go for counselling.

Mr X told my friend that he had to be silent for a while and that she couldn’t text him or contact him.  He would contact her.

In the end, my friend got so sick of listening to his excuses and not seeing any positive actions on his part she told him to leave her alone.  Don’t call her, don’t text or email her.  No more contact – she was quite insistent.  I could hear the angel’s singing ‘Hallelujah’.  I even took some time out to thank God for letting her see sense!

Too good to be true though.  Mr X couldn’t leave it.  He was back in touch and telling her that he didn’t want to lose her.  Armed with more promises that he would explain whats going on.

He got in touch today after 2 weeks of silence but only to tell her that it’s clear they’ve both moved on and that’s it.

No matter how much I think about what has happened, I can not fathom what drives someone to lie, deceive and mislead people.  Especially people they claim to love.

I don’t condone my friends actions.  She openly chose to carry on a relationship with someone she knew was married with children.  But are her crimes worse than his?  Despite her pleas he kept her his dirty little secret.

He lied.  He cheated.  Nothing will make that better.