No Boobday post for me this week. Awwwwww, I know. You’re sad that you can’t see my boobs.
Normally that makes me sad, too. But as I’m writing this, boob shots don’t seem that important to me. Not today at least. If you came for boobs, here, click here, and go look at some. You’re welcome.
I’ve been emotionally bleeding this week. All internally – well, unless you work with me. They’ve seen my misery. My officemate doesn’t know better. She should have left me alone. Instead, I bit her head off over stupid stuff. I felt horrible, and I apologized. But it still happened.
I’ve emotionally eaten my way through the week. My dinner last night was toast with butter and jam. And a bottle of water. That doesn’t sound bad unless you consider that I’ve also eaten sandwiches that no 34 year old woman should eat unless she wants heart disease. I’ve eaten too much chocolate. I’ve eaten when I wasn’t hungry. I’ve just been eating.
Trying to fill a hole, a void.
I’ve barely slept. I’m tired all the time, but I can’t make myself lay down in bed. When I do, I can’t fall asleep.
I think I made myself sick.
I can’t blame all of that on missing him. I’m working on my writing, and I’m building a business, from the ground up. I do it all after work, after dinner, after the boys are in bed. And I’m energized while I work on those projects. I don’t feel the exhaustion. I can feel myself moving forward on my goals and dreams, so sleep seems unnecessary. When I do finally go to bed, my mind won’t shut off. It may be a coping mechanism.
But then there are moments like last night. He fell asleep early and we couldn’t talk. He needed the sleep. I’m not upset with him. He’s just as exhausted as I am, for the same reason – no sleep. But I missed him terribly. I felt like my insides were coming apart at the seams.
Every sweet little saying on Tumblr. Every erotic picture. Every erotic word. They make my heart hurt right now. Every one of them. Silly, huh?
All is not lost. I know that. We have plans. A possible Valentine’s visit. The ultimate goal is to be together by June. Six months away. In the grand scheme of things, it’s the blink of an eye. But right now, when I’m bleeding on the inside, it feels like forever.
I hate that I’m bleeding all over the place. I wish I could give you something sassy, sexy, and erotic. Maybe tomorrow. And if you’re new here, it’s not normally like this. Just ask them. I’m a kinky girl who can describe masturbation in a hundred ways. Right y’all? Maybe tomorrow.