crazy, happiness, life, love, mind, psychology, relationships

When no one owes you anything

happy 

– I want to feel safe. Am I asking too much? – She was desperately crumpling the napkin, sickly dramatic and hysterically panicky.  – What should I do to feel safe?

Her mind mercilessly threw at her ample reasons for being scared, “I will get fired, my boyfriend will stop paying my bills, I will end up broke and in debt, I can’t do much about it, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.

Her stable job, the house in a walled community, annual vacations in Spain, and weekends in spa salons did not silence her fears and painful insecurity. Sleeping pills were only a short-term turn-off button, a temporary night relief. Her mornings started with swollen eyelids in the bathroom mirror and the loud cry for help running through her mind and echoing from the walls, the floors, and the ceiling, “I am insecure, please, please, please, help”.

 – Have you ever felt safe?

She slowly shook her head blinking excessively through the cigarette smoke.  – It must be my childhood, it was crappy, I never felt loved, no one really cared, I was abused; physically, mentally, sexually ….

She loved rationalizing her fears, it made her sound smart and romantically miserable.  Her helpless sex appeal attracted men and women, everyone wanted to help, she willingly accepted help; nevertheless, feeling insecure, immature, and lonely.

One day, I ran into her in a local grocery store. She looked so different, so glowing that I could hardly recognize her. We exchanged usual hugs, kisses, and compliments.

My polite “how have you been?” was answered with a brief and quiet smile, I got curious, I wanted to know that was going on.

 – Well, – she took a deep breath and reached out to tofu cheese. She was religiously vegan and crazily passionate about animal rights. She thought animals give unconditional love; she cared for them, and hated humans. – Well, – she repeated, carefully studying the package ingredients, – Rick dumped me.

 – What??? – I felt shocked. Rick was one of her dates, a wealthy guy who gave her descent monthly arrangements and took care of all her bills. – I am so sorry, who is providing for you now?

 – No one.  – she put the tofu back on the shelf and slowly turned around, – I am by myself, and I lost my job.

There was no regret in her voice, she sounded surprisingly calm.

 – How are you feeling?

 – Crappy, and freaking unsafe, – again, her voice was amazingly nonchalant. I sensed no panic, no sorrow, nothing.

 – You do not seem to look that …. that stressed, please… do not think I am saying it to make you feel bad, I am just saying that I am observing…. I… I … -am so sorry…. – I knew my words sounded pretty awful, the more I spoke, the more stupid I felt.

 – No, no, please do not apologize, – she giggled, briefly tucking her hair behind the ears; at that moment, she reminded me of a Disney chipmunk, huge eyes, cartoon smile, animal quickness, and nonchalance, damn nonchalance. – Rick told me he got tired of being treated like a wallet. He said he found a woman, and… and fell in love. And my job… I never actually liked it, I resigned the day before he left, so … I finally got what I was always afraid of: no money, no stability, nothing.

 – What are you going to do?

 – I do not know, – her voice changed, she got more serious, – After all these years of running away from poverty, hunger, and … and from everything that I call unsafety, I ran into it. And it feels different from what I expected. It feels bad, it feels ugly, but it still feels alive. I am still alive, not dead, does it make sense?

I nodded, she continued – Yes, more alive than when I was with Rick, I used him for money and… and for his cock. Craving for safety, I kept taking but never gave anything back. Now, I am unsafe, but I am not craving, I am no longer a safety addict.

 – What are you going to do?

 – I wanna get my hair braided, and then, then I do not know.

 – How are you going to live?

She suddenly broke out in laughter, – like I lived before, my dear, panicky and unsafe. But here is the thing.  – She stopped laughing and gave me a long and expressive look, – No one owes me nothing. No one will spend sleepless nights thinking how to make me feel safe and happy. It makes no sense to use anyone, and to expect anything. Now I get it, it is a relief. It is a f*cking RELIEF!

She proceeded to a check-out, looking nonchalant, skinny, insecure, and happy, crazily happy.      

life, love, relationships

Bold, Persistent, and Goal-Driven

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He was profitability driven. His whole world was suggestive of numbers. Everything about him, his gestures, looks, postures cried loudly: “I always maximize the profit!

He set the goals and aggressively pursued them pushing the boundaries and stepping all over others. Hungry for money and extremely emotionally intelligent, he maximized his profits in any market conditions.

We met at a business analytics forum. He was presenting his new start-up strategies when I entered the conference room. Our eyes met, I breathed out my question into a microphone, his response sunk in the final applause, as people were getting impatient in anticipation for the lunch break.

He found me after, sitting on the floor in the hall, staring at the screen of my old laptop. He bent down and put a paper plate with grapes on the keyboard.

 – I am highly educated and successful, sensual and dominant, looking for a nice company with no strings attached. I know how to treat a woman. Are you interested?

I shrugged my shoulders. His conference speech was impressive, he was clearly talented.

The next several months were a disaster. I was fickle and fearful; swamped in debts, bills, and desperate efforts to change my job. He was firm, resolute, and wealthy. He valued his time and money. He knew exactly what he wanted; the quality I loved but was never able to assume.

A year after my constant on and off games, he called asking for a massage. “My neck and back hurt. You will get paid, I know you are in dire straits, and I feel for you, may I stop by?”

 – You surely can, but it won’t get any further than a massage.

 – Than I won’t come over.

 – Really? – Suddenly, I got extremely upset. After a year of considering whether to give him a chance or not, I finally made the decision to allow him into my household. But he did not seem to be happy at all. He still wanted an ongoing a twice-a-week fun and no compromises.

 – I’ve been wasting my time with you for a while, if you want me to disappear, just say it.

 – Bye, dear.

I found myself admiring his goal-driven personality, rock-solid focus, and merciless persistence. Every time I failed my new business project, lost in investments, or denied a job, I contacted him hoping for support, advice, and some cash.

His response was always practically cold, and never changing. – Be my woman hon, twice a week in your apartment; and you will get my mentorship, my love, and a decent arrangement. I am not investing my time or money until then.

It made sense, but it never worked out between us.

He is still around, looking for new investment opportunities, exploring new markets, starting, running, and selling. Our paths still cross at conferences, I still blush, blowing into a microphone my questions to him; and I still smile and shake my head when he offers his hotel room for a quickie after the gala dinner.

 

life, love, psychology, relationships

Falling for Power and Strength

power 

– What are your workout goals? – my fitness instructor was a lovely-looking kid, polite, defined, in his early twenties.  – What would you like to achieve?

 – I …  I … want … – I slowly looked around trying to put my thoughts together. Guys were working bloody hard leaving sweat and hand sanitizer on steel beams. They came here searching for strength, since being strong felt good and smelt like power.

“His name is Jim. And he is strong” – this thought suddenly flashed through my mind. I shook my head trying to get him out of my head.

Jim did not go to a gym, his work out equipment was people. He bent them the way he liked, totally subjecting others to his will. He always got what he wanted being capable of buying and selling anyone as many times as he liked.

 – I go after what I want hon, – he made decisions and worked aggressively crashing obstacles, caring very little about people’s feelings, – I grow and sell businesses, this is what I am really good at.

 – Don’t you get that I am not your freaking business project?! – I grabbed a plate from the kitchen table and fiercely threw it on the floor. It broke into pieces.

 – You gotta clean it up, Vixen. Do it, now, – he was firm, direct, and scarily calm.

 – F*ck you.

He slowly put the laptop aside and reached out to his iPhone.

 – If you do not clean the mess, I will call the police and report domestic violence. I do not need that crap in my home.

 – Really? – our eyes met, I did not see any understanding or compassion.

 – You are such a gentleman….

 – Clean .. the mess … now, I am not repeating myself here, – his voice was low and assertive. I kneeled down and started picking up the broken pieces from the floor. Dealing with the police was not something I was looking forward to; I knew he would make a phone call, he never made empty threats, he was way too busy for it.

He watched me sobbing on the floor with a trash bag searching for the tiny sharp pieces. – Take this, – He gave me a pair of rubber gloves and a broom. I felt like a dog submitting to the owner’s command. He did not care.

I blocked his phone number, he started coming to my home. His “I am a take-charge person, I want you, and I will have you” drove me nuts, it was easier to give in than to explain why I do not want to see him any longer.

His strength was enormous, he rolled through the life like a tank ignoring anything that was not helpful to achieve his goals.

He never got why I discontinued our relationship, I was unable to explain, he never listened. When he asked me if I loved him, I shrugged my shoulders. Watching a TV show with tanks in action was fun, but the idea of having one in the household was not that enticing.

 – So, do you know your workout goals? – the fitness instructor was getting impatient tapping the pen on the table.

I gave him a smile. Jim was still in my heart and on my mind.

Yes, of course. I am here to be strong. And we gonna start right now.

crazy, health, life, love, mind, psychology, relationships

Falling for an Addict

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 – Wrong guys are after me, they keep breaking my heart, I do not know what to do.

 – No honey, you fall for messed up people.

 – You can’t say that, Vixen. You are my friend. – My girlfriend had that enticingly-vulnerable look; huge deer eyes, pale skin, and alluring gestures.

 – You love suffering my dear. Attracting alcoholics, drug addicts, liars, and other mentally sick dudes and losers is your passion. – I had no time for her tearful helplessness that morning. I was busy and ready to go.

 – What shall I do?

 – Go back to work, unless you want to get fired and share the misery of your unemployed dates.

 – I was hoping for your support

 – I love you dear. But I am not supporting your love for freaks and losers.

 – You are cruel, Vixen.

 – Go back to work, honey.

Her mannerism was hypnotic, her appearance was anorexically sex-appealing. She was the magnet for troubled guys, and she enjoyed them. Her classically messed up boyfriends knew how to hug, how to kiss, how to fuck, and how to empathize. Each relationship started with expensive presents, mind-blowing sex, and endless horrid stories of their heart-breaking childhood experiences. Her each date had a perfect excuse for being miserable, misunderstood, discriminated against, unaccepted by the society, and exceptionally vulnerable. She kept being dragged into the bullshit of her boyfriends’ uniqueness, swamped by myriads of reasons for losing money and for their inability to stop mixing anti-depressants with liquor and get their lazy asses back to work.

She loved the feeling of euphoria coming home and seeing her partner sober on the couch watching old French movies or analyzing stock markets. All her dates were intelligent and highly educated. Adding lofty attitudes, alcohol, and psych medications to their ivy-league diplomas and family possessions was very charming to her. She felt mesmerized and ready to fall in love ardently defending the guys’ instability and furiously denying any attempts to get her to common sense.

Her pain of discovering her dates passed out due to overdosing on benzos or alcohol blackouts was very real. She would call 911 and spend sleepless nights in a local emergency room blaming herself for everything. Deep in her heart she would crave for the moment of their hospital discharge. She knew they would come back with buckets of roses, diamond necklaces, and heart-warming words of gratitude: “you are exceptional honey, I feel so lucky I have you, I would have died without you, you have saved my life again”. She loved that, enabling their addiction and the unwillingness to seek professional help.

She suffered a lot blaming them for being unable to keep the job, to maintain sobriety, and to stabilize their manic and depressive episodes. But the pleasures from the “I neither do drugs nor drink, I am way too spiritual/educated/intelligent, blah-blah-blah” lies were much more gratifying than the reality check. Their pretended empathy and awesome sex kept her around adding spice to the toxicity of the relationships.

Once one dude passed away, the other one would show up with a big cock, fake promises, claimed bankruptcies, and fancy gifts.

Being up and down was her way of living. I did not have much patience or compassion for it.

 – Have a good day, honey, – I gave her a hug and left the diner feeling the sadness of her almond-shaped eyes on my back.

 

crazy, happiness, health, life, love, mind, psychology, relationships, sex

Power of Physical Attraction

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I never liked the way he looked, he talked, he acted. His smiles were fake, his demeanor was offensive. I simply tolerated his condescending attitude and lack of compassion since the physical aspect was awesome.

Don’t you like anything about me at all?  –  I felt irritation in his voice when he confronted me with this question and did not respond. Sex with him was magical, he was hot and cold, strong and weak, passionate and negligently cruel all at the same time. Outside the bedroom there was no connection, no mutual interests, nothing. He seemed to hate everything about me. I was too skinny, too hysterical, too talkative, too worldly, too emotional.

Why are you with me? – I was really curious what kept him near me; he had no answer.

I made the decision to stop the relationship and texted him “bye now” and immediately received “You are trash, you do not deserve me”. He seemed to be pissed, I was tired and ready to go to bed.

My withdrawal started a week after. The desire to be close grew from strong to mind-blowing. The pain was very real and very physical. Our relations were purely sexual. I allowed him to crawl into my body, to germinate, to root. Breaking the connection felt worse than extracting wisdom teeth without anesthesia.

Three weeks after he gave me a call and asked to meet.

I entered a cheap Asian diner and saw him immediately; cold eyes, expensive suit, and pragmatic mercilessness. Our eyes met, the wave of pain and desire literally blinded me for a moment.

He gestured to sit down and moved to me his bowl of rice. – You are too thin. You gotta eat.

I smiled reaching out for chopsticks. I felt hungry and slightly dizzy. – How are you?  

I am good, luv. I worry about you.

 – Ok, – the rice was yummy

I can’t be with you.

 – Ok

I can’t. You know who I am, right? – He held a senior executive position in an oil and gas company, worked almost 24 hours a day and drove a luxury vehicle.

Yes, I know who you are

Honey, my friends, family, my business partners, everyone will make fun of me if we are together.

Can you order more rice, please? – I had not eaten for days, after we broke up depression hit me really hard.

Please, look in the mirror. You are drab and mousy. Did you see women I dated before?

 – Yes, – I finally looked up, tired of talking to the rice bowl and the dirty table.  

 – They are classy, well-maintained. It would take time and money to turn you into someone I could officially take out to dinner. Boob job, Botox, professional stylist, hear-dresser, everything.  It makes sense to find someone ready-made than to invest in you. You do not know how to behave, you are too short, and you are so … so anorexic.

 – I want more rice

 – I want you

– I know, buy me more rice – I was hungry and happy to see him again

–  Yes, yes, sure, – he hurried to the self-serve kiosk to place another order. Athletic, perfectly-ironed, smelling like money, almost an alien in that crappy place. He returned with a platter of veggies and water.  – I really hate this place, hon.

 – Why did you choose it?

 – Close to my office, plus none of my work team or friends come here

 – Why did you want to meet?

 – To tell you it is over

– It was over 3 weeks ago, – I was calm and curious. I knew my pain would hit me later. Days felt ok; neediness and cravings usually returned in the evening. – Bye

We met the next day, and the next day, and the next day. I loved his place, top-grade, water view, Zen style. It was absurd and stupid. We had nothing in common, we were entire strangers. I knew I needed to block his phone number and move on, but I could not. Sex was the only thing that seemed to connect us, but that connection was too tight, too strong, too painful to break. I finally gave up thinking and started laughing every time he texted the usual “how was your day luv? I will be waiting for you in that crappy diner”.