I wonder if he ever loved me. It will be six years, come March of this year. He has a little boy, about 3.

I did not want any more children and thought, he was too handsome and too young, for me. I should have fought for him, but I could not trust him. Well, she would give him babies, so he thought. It turned out, she was not able to give him babies and that is why, they had to adopt.

She had endometriosis, which, I was diagnosed as having, when I was 36. Well, she took the Lupron injections, to try to get rid of the endometriosis, to see if it would help her get pregnant. They tried expensive fertility drugs and procedures, but did not produce a baby.

My lover, actually tried to talk me into being a surrogate mother, for her. We were going to use my eggs and his sperm, so biologically, it would have been his and mine. I almost agreed to it, but then, I backed out. It was painful enough, watching him marry her and listen to the details of their lives together, every time he came to fuck me.

It was hard, seeing them out together. It was hard, him spending time with me and going home to her. I always felt, he wanted me more, but who knows. I know, if I would not answer his calls, he would flip out. He actually would get jealous of my other men. I had to have them. He wasn't around all the time, but he was pretty consistant. I have no idea, if she ever knew. How could she not, know.

Oh, there is so much to tell, but not enough time to talk about it.

I loved him. I admired his Cary Grant looks and loved the way, he fucked me. I never gave myself to him, 100%. I always loved him and I always hated him.

I think of him, because, I miss him. I miss the way, we could so easily talk to each other, about anything. Yet. Didn't he do that, with every woman? I will never know. I just know, he would ask me, "You will never leave me Pam, will you?" I would always tell him, "NO." Only, because I believed some day, she would leave him. But, she didn't. I did not think for a second, he would ever leave her, because he had me and her. He had his cake and he ate it, too. Lucky him, but, not for me. He said he would never marry her, but he did. He always complained and bitched about her fat thighs, her lack of interest in sex. He loved my body. He loved my ass. He loved fucking me. I got a thrill from that, because I knew, how much he loved it. It made me feel powerful. He needed me. He did not want to lose me.

I was always there. She was always there. I never really accepted it, but I endured it. I had him, pretty much, when I wanted him. I did not want him all the time. I could never picture us together, on a daily basis. Our lives, were so different. I was physically active. He wasn't. Well, not like me.

I had him, but, I also, had others. I had my freedom, as much as you can have, being a single mother. I made sure, my lust, did not affect my son. I made sure of that.

Now. I have Mike. I love Mike. I have been with Mike for 4 years. I gave up all my men, for Mike. I figured, I had to settle down, sometime.

I was in love with the man. He was not married, when I met him. I met him, when I was 29 and he was 22. I did not start having sex, with him, until I divorced at 31. He had absolutely, nothing to do with my divorce. Seriously. My ex-husband was violent and abusive. I was going to divorce my husband years, before I met MY LOVE. I stayed with my ex-husband, because I got pregnant and did not want to have my child raised in a broken home. What a mistake. My little son, witnessed his mother being punched in the face and other such dramas. I divorced my husband, out of fear, for my son.

The first time we had sex, it was like my first time. I had only been with two men, in twelve years and that was my two husbands. I was with my first husband 6 years and 6 with my last. I was a nervous wreck, the first time. Once I relaxed, I was able to show him my skills. He became obsessed with me. Why? Who knows. I am not some great beauty. Don't get me wrong, I have my looks, but I am not or ever have been a striking model type.

The post before, is a practice shot, at writing a lewd sexual romance piece. WARNING: FILTHY LANGUAGE BELOW.



I loved having sex with him. He turned me on, beyond belief, but of course, I would never have told him that. Never once, did we utter the word love. We just fucked. A couple of hours, twice a week or more. Hooking up, just to fuck and talk, fuck and talk, fuck and talk. We had more than just a fucking relationship. I am sure, there was some sort of love going on, just cannot figure out, what kind. Thirteen years. Now it is over. Wish it would have turned out differently. Had to end. How long can one go on, having an affair with a married man? I was always there. He had just been dating her 6 months. I was always there, through their entire relationship. I had to end it, when they adopted their baby. That was it. He was such a liar. He lied to me, all the time. What could you expect, from a man who lied to his wife. Cheated on his wife. He would have married me, but I did not want, anymore children and he could not be trusted. I do not cheat. I was single, when I carried on with him. Well, I carried on, period. I had a blast and why not. I kept my men, separate from my son. He never knew. Not once. Just because, I was alone, doesn't mean, I was always alone. I have had a hard life, but I have lived. I have made sure to enjoy the fruits of my womanhood.

Got to go to bed.

Okay, here is another font. Let us see, what it looks like.

Father, sexually abused me, from ages 4-9. Brutally beat my leg, when I tried to stop it, one day. Well, it did stop, but my leg suffered for it. He tried one more time when I was thirteen. I just got off the bed and said, " If you ever touch me again, buster, you will be in jail." He looked back at me and said, "You do not have anything to touch, anyway." Now. There is a good father for you.

I guess, I do not have to put the date on. That is good. I am practicing different fonts. This is courier.

I have to get this house together. It is such a mess. I have to start working with my arm, again. I am probably going to have plastic surgery in March. I cannot wait. I am scared, but, I cannot wait to have my breast look, like it use to. My right breast alone, looks fine, it just is a third smaller than my left breast. You can tell. I know, they cannot make it perfect. My breast really came out fine. My only complaint, is it is higher, firmer (like that part) and smaller than my left breast.

I am rambling. My whole life has changed, since the breast cancer. I want to feel normal again, but do not know, if that is possible. I cannot see, how I can ever be the same, again. The only way I can see that happening, is if they find an absolute, for sure, cure for metastasized triple negative breast cancer.

My whole world would morph so totally, for the best, if they would just find a cure. Please Jesus, let them find a cure for metastasized triple negative breast cancer. Never, never, let me ever, have to go through that hell, again. Please, Jesus, hear my voice. Hear my plea. I was suppose to start living. I was suppose to start making up for all the bad, that had happened to me. I was suppose to give to myself, the things, the world stole from me.

Jesus, my sister spirits, hear me. Cure me. Let there not be one single cancer cell, anywhere, in my body. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, HEAR ME, PLEASE!

I need my life back.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

My birthday is in 2 days. It sucks. I will be 49 years old. 49!!!!!!

Dustin was ill today, but went to work, any way. He is 21. I am worried about him. He is all over the place. Quitting college. Going back to college. Moving to one city. Moving back. Now, he says he is going to join the Air National Guard. I think it would do him good. Of course, I hate to see him go to basic training. It would be tough. Especially, the first week, but in the end, it would be good for him. It will help him get focused. I would not say, he has my bi-polar, but he has something. I hope it is just, being immature and him still being young.

He is living with his friends. The Air National Guard would not be hard on him, because of him, being away from me. He has been his own person, since he turned 10. The moment we moved over on Duke, he was off on his bike to see the world. He was always going somewhere, within the neigborhood. I made sure, where he was going and checked up on him, but he still had a lot of freedom. Lots of freedom. Maybe I gave him too much freedom. Oh well. Cannot take it back. He is a man, now. I did a great job.

It is hard, being a parent. I thought it would get easier, once he was grown, but I still worry just as much. I wish he was three, again. Really. He was such a cute little boy. Now, he is a handsome man, but I worry about his weight. He has lost weight. He is going to be like me and his father. Thin. That is good, but not when, you lose too much weight. I think he is stressed.

My son. He is all I have.

I bought another gun. It fits easily in my hand. I will practice shooting this weekend. The automatic is not my cup of tea. This 38 Smith @ Wesson is perfect. The revolver is so simple. Flip it out. Put the bullets in and shoot. I am going to take the courses to carry. I see, real bad times coming. It is true. Bad times are coming. Hope for the best. Prepare for the worst.

The American people are so angry and our rich elite traitors, are so out of touch with the reality of what we go through. I know they do not care. They are idiots.

I cannot understand, why the American people allow themselves to be led, by such evil brainless dumbfucks.

The only thing, I can say about Obama being elected, is: It is going to be interesting to watch. We are on the brink of total collapse. Obama will do find, if he stays to the middle, but I do not think he will. Time will tell.

January 11, 2009 Sunday

I am still worried about my cancer coming back. It will be 2 years and 5 months, since my original diagnosis. I am so afraid sometimes. I feel as if, I have a death sentence hanging over my head. Most of the time, I just go through the motions of a day. I pray for an absolute cure every day. It has not happened yet.

Jesus, my brother, my father. Never let my breast cancer come back. Never let me have cancer, ever again. Never let me have to go through chemo, again. Jesus, cure my body of all the damage, the Taxol and radiation did to my body. Let my body kill every single cancer cell, that might not want to die. Let them find an absolute cure for metastasized triple negative breast cancer, long before any cancer cells, could even think of growing in my body. Let them find a cure for all cancers. Today.

I have to live to see my son have children.

I HAVE TO LIVE!!!!!!!