<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545</id><updated>2011-06-07T23:32:09.627-07:00</updated><category term='relationships'/><category term='shirtless guy'/><category term='HNT'/><title type='text'>Where Is My Happy Ending?</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-6891414531132198831</id><published>2007-10-21T20:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T21:01:38.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Listening to Sappy Songs...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...Really doesn't help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally heard from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt; last week. I was too crushed to write about it when it happened and I guess I felt like if I didn't blog about it, maybe it wasn't really happening. When he called I went cold and felt sick to my stomach. How could he call me after 6 days, and a ruined vacation? What would he actually have to say? I thought for sure I would never hear from him again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He claimed his phone had gotten lost and a bunch of other excuses that I don't believe. I now know the truth just from talking to him. He started off telling me that he was going back to his ex because she had built her life around him, and he hadn't really given 100% and that wasn't fair. That my reader(s) is total bullshit. He's scared she's going to pull out of the house, and leave him stuck with a proverbial &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;albatross&lt;/span&gt;. I told him exactly what I believed and he didn't deny it. It said he feels like he is in prison, and it's not fair to me. He's right. I knew that we couldn't be together right now, but I had hoped that some miracle would happen and we could be together sooner rather than later. Instead he chose to push me away. I know in his heart he didn't mean to hurt me, he was just scared and overwhelmed and thought he was doing what was best for me. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. It's not for me to say. I know he doesn't want to see me run off into the sunset with someone else, and I know that I have to give him the distance he needs, but I miss him so very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't back down though. I told him just how much he had hurt me, and how he made me look like a fool. He said he understood why I would hate him. However, I don't hate him. I love him. I still love him. I didn't love the one before... I just fell in love with the idea of him, because when the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Brit&lt;/span&gt; left, I wasn't crushed. This time... I am. I ache for my friend, and the person I grew to love so quickly. I feel like there is a huge hole in my heart and I am angry. I am angry that he chose to stay with her... not because he went back to her... but because I know in his heart he wants me.. and he will hurt her. I actually feel more sorry for her than I do myself. She thinks he is back in her life, and they are going to live happily ever after in this nice big house, with their dog... He won't stay. He will always be looking for "something else". If it's not me, then it will be someone else. You can't build a life on a lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry. I'm sorry for getting involved with him, I am sorry for letting my guard down. I am sorry for letting myself get so unabashedly hurt that I can't get through a day without crying, and listening to "All By Myself" over and over. I'm sorry I didn't run to his door when he lived here and throw my arms around him and tell him I thought he was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sad thing is I met someone, local, and available just a day ago. We went out and had a real date. We had a great date actually. We spent the day together at The Colony Days parade, lunch, and then we met up later to go out because he wanted to hear me sing. He seems nice and REALLY interested. He wanted to see me again tonight so I invited him to church, and he came along. We had a nice time, and I know that he wanted to do something after, but I turned him down. As much as I wanted to I couldn't get the idea out of my head that I would hurt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt; if I went out with someone else. I know that it's crazy. I know I need to get out there and get over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt;... but I don't want to. I don't want to get OVER him. I don't want him to get over me. I want to open my door and see him living in #4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I really want... is a magic wand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-6891414531132198831?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/6891414531132198831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=6891414531132198831' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/6891414531132198831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/6891414531132198831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/10/listening-to-sappy-songs.html' title='Listening to Sappy Songs...'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-1263296590550916310</id><published>2007-10-12T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T20:07:18.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Should Have Known Better</title><content type='html'>Once Again a fool...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so insanely depressed right now. You know I haven't been this depressed in a long time. I'm not sure what's worse... feeling like the person you love doesn't even care about you anymore, or having to face everyone of your friends and family, and telling them that yet again you made a mistake when it came to a man. I really believed he was a chance at a happy ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took off a week from work at the promise he would be spending his vacation in October with me. Here I am on the second day of my vacation, and I haven't heard from him in over 48 hours. When he called me last time he told me he would come down here on Friday. It's Friday, and here I sit all alone with a clean house, candles lit, and I am blogging all alone. I understand if he doesn't want to be with me, or see me anymore. I understand if he justs wants to give up on this. I even understand if he wants to just come down and not see me... but fucking man up and tell me that. Yes, I will be pissed. Yes, I will be hurt, and yes I will even think you are a piece of shit for many reasons... but at least I wouldn't waste my vacation time sitting around waiting for you to come visit me for five fucking minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I planned this wonderful trip to Monterey. I even got a romantic suite with a fireplace. I had to cancel that. I sent my kids packing for 4 days, I told all of my co-workers, friends and family what the plan was... how do I face these people? How do I say to all of these people that I got stood up... again? How do I go back out there and get back on that horse? How do I ever learn to trust another man again? It's not going to happen now. It's never going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to end up alone. I don't want to be alone for the rest of my life. One of my children has already grown up, and the second one is rapidly approaching adulthood. Then what? I sit and talk to my hamster?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-1263296590550916310?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/1263296590550916310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=1263296590550916310' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/1263296590550916310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/1263296590550916310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-should-have-known-better.html' title='I Should Have Known Better'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-5834044529845112300</id><published>2007-09-09T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-09T16:25:22.390-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Waiting...</title><content type='html'>I had a really good week last week with SG. We had good conversations, he told me how beautiful I was and even how much he missed me. It was almost like he was "Normal" again. Things were good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blurted out the L word on his voice mail the other day. He hadn't said anything about it until a couple of days ago. It didn't worry me much, since things were better, and I know he is crazy about me. For the first time in a long time I don't need to hear it. I think either I am evolving or he let's me know how much he cares in other ways and that's ok now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really feel like I am in limbo anymore. It's more just a feeling of waiting. There are still days when I question if I should be waiting, and then I breathe, remember that we are still getting to know one another and this is really a good thing, and remember that I am one day closer to being with the man I adore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figure if we can make it through all of this, then we are destined to be together. Life is still good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-5834044529845112300?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/5834044529845112300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=5834044529845112300' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5834044529845112300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5834044529845112300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/09/waiting.html' title='Waiting...'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-3563383856710465202</id><published>2007-09-02T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T20:27:38.770-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Just Breathe</title><content type='html'>I have this friend, who amazes me on a daily basis. I think the world of her. Why? Because she always knows what to say at all the right times, and never sugar coats it. If I am being a dumb ass, she tells me. She knows I am most likely not going to listen, but that's ok because she will be there to pick up the pieces when I fall apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When this weekend started I was really poopy. It would have been really easy to get down and feel lonely and eat pints of ice cream and sleep all day. However, on my way home from work I heard a song that reminded me that no matter what happens everything would be ok. "Breathe" by Anna Nalick was my soundtrack this weekend. I listened to it over and over and over and over on Friday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it hit me Friday night on the 40th play... why not do something different? Why not work out every time I feel lonely, or sad. Why not do something that feels better, inside and out? Well here it is, day three of this new attitude and I feel pretty good. I have lost 4 pounds, I have more energy, and eventually I will look better. Why didn't I do this sooner? Every time I feel like I can't do one more sit up... I hear my friend saying "just breathe" and I can always do one more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SG even called me three times today. We talked and talked, and laughed... I mean I really laughed. I felt like it was a wonderful conversation, and I was reminded again why I have fallen for him. I told him about my plan to lose weight, and he was supportive without making me feel like if I didn't lose weight he wouldn't like me as much. He sure has moments of greatness. I'm happy just taking one day at a time learning everything there is to know about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Tonight, life is good...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-3563383856710465202?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/3563383856710465202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=3563383856710465202' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/3563383856710465202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/3563383856710465202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/09/just-breathe.html' title='Just Breathe'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-1115038304140032580</id><published>2007-09-02T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T07:59:27.160-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Reflections</title><content type='html'>As I look back over the last six weeks I smile a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 weeks ago I was just recently out of a really bad relationship that ended even worse. I was feeling pretty crappy about myself and the world in general. I had been out on a couple of dates that were nice, but they didn't have the qualities I was looking for in a partner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt; came along I found someone who had all those qualities. He's handsome of course, but it's so much more than that. The compassion this man has for children, and animals is amazing. He would make a great role model for my kids, and any future children. That's an important trait in a man, compassion. I think women overlook that when they seek out a partner. They want cute and funny. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt; is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; funny in a silly way (which I adore), but it's so much more than that. He knows how to make me laugh, even when I want to cry. He knows how to make other people laugh all the time, and that's another good quality. I think the thing that draws me to him the most is the fact that he takes his job seriously and is a hard worker. It shows me that no matter what job he was doing he would do his best, and he would be able to take care of his family. He's a good boy with a wild side. I like that... a nice happy balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I have to hang on to that. I have to remember what the last 6 weeks have been like for us. I have to remember that we are really good for one another. I have to remember that all things are possible, and I am on God's time table.  Would I like everything to be working on our happily ever after now? Of course I would, but I think taking this one day at a time is better for both of us right now. Nothing good comes easy... this is going to take some work to get to the point where we can be together, but as a team we can do that! I believe in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-1115038304140032580?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/1115038304140032580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=1115038304140032580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/1115038304140032580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/1115038304140032580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/09/reflections.html' title='Reflections'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-7459378007682634729</id><published>2007-09-01T13:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T13:50:44.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>As Insanity Creeps in...</title><content type='html'>A Three day weekend with NOTHING to do. I made sure I was free all weekend to spend time with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt;. Then when he said he wasn't coming it was too late to plan anything. All of my friends are coupled up, and doing couples things, and the other friends are out of town. This sucks! I'm sure he's having a grand time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;barbecuing&lt;/span&gt; for the neighbors or riding his little ass off. He's obviously too busy to call me since he hasn't called all day. I broke down and called him but he didn't answer, and he hasn't called back. I knew he had to chill out around the ex but I feel like he's over me and that breaks my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked out this morning for the first time in a long time. I really overdid it. I'll probably do it again tonight, and I have hardly eaten in the past week. Yesterday my diet consisted of half a coffee, and a banana. Today I have had a slice of vegetable Pizza, a rice cake, and some water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He claims he is going to come see me in 6 weeks.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; If he does&lt;/span&gt; I want to have lost a ton of weight. I am tired of being overweight. I feel like that's the reason I still don't have my happy ending. I am not getting any younger and I am certainly not getting any prettier. SG has even stopped calling me beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been this damn depressed since I moved here... I just sometimes wonder if I will ever be happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-7459378007682634729?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/7459378007682634729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=7459378007682634729' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/7459378007682634729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/7459378007682634729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/09/as-insanity-creeps-in.html' title='As Insanity Creeps in...'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-107312472444744111</id><published>2007-08-31T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T21:20:11.020-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Disappointment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morning thinking that in a few hours &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; would be here with me and I would feel so much better about us. Then of course, he called me and told me that he would not be coming down. He just couldn't afford it. My immediate thought was... "well maybe if you didn't blow a shit load of money on a bike last week you could have". Instead I just sat there in complete disbelief. The tears came once more, and I was silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly went into my "He is man therefore he is evil like all the others" mood... It made me slightly crazy. I wanted to call him and scream at him. I believed he just didn't want to come see me. I have too many books that say if a man wants to be with you he will move Heaven &amp; Earth to get to you. I feel so foolish. I wanted to believe that it was only about the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;money&lt;/span&gt; but after talking to him I can't help but wonder if it's not more than that. I want to trust him, but I have such huge walls built from all the pain over the years, that I am not sure if I can let my guard down 100% in this complicated situation. Especially when he tells me he realizes the gravity of his situation, and is now thinking how this isn't fair to me. Well... no shit Sherlock... however... It's too late to go back. I don't do second chances. It's either we move forward or nothing again, ever! I know what I want... and it doesn't include &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ex's&lt;/span&gt; for the next 2 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He claims the distance is only due to the fact that when he is at home he needs to keep the peace. I do understand that. I mean I don't want his ex to think I am the reason he broke up with her, and I certainly don't want her to think he cheated, because he didn't. Then there is the fact that neither of us want to flaunt this in front of her. I hate drama, and that would create drama... for him. However, there is still a part of me that wants ALL of him... not just part of the time, and I hate feeling like I am sneaking around. I think this would all be so much better if he lived on his own. Right now that's impossible so I have to deal with this as long as I can. Although the thought of doing this for years makes me want to throw myself in front of a bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then when I think about him not being in my life I can't hold back the tears. I feel like a part of me would just be so lost. I feel like I found someone who really does make my life better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always said I would make a change in my living situation for the right person... Is that the answer? Do I make the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sacrifice&lt;/span&gt;? Is the reward really worth it? I guess that's what I have to decide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The good news is being unable to eat all the time is great for my figure!&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-107312472444744111?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/107312472444744111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=107312472444744111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/107312472444744111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/107312472444744111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/dissapointment.html' title='Disappointment'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-4337208464338762922</id><published>2007-08-29T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T21:00:16.410-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT - 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RtZAt78uG0I/AAAAAAAAAA0/6qpZP9pOR-A/s1600-h/look.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RtZAt78uG0I/AAAAAAAAAA0/6qpZP9pOR-A/s320/look.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104338385601698626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Do you see yourself in my eyes?&lt;br /&gt;Happy HNT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-4337208464338762922?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/4337208464338762922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=4337208464338762922' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/4337208464338762922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/4337208464338762922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/hnt-4.html' title='HNT - 4'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RtZAt78uG0I/AAAAAAAAAA0/6qpZP9pOR-A/s72-c/look.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-3855793266025499277</id><published>2007-08-26T17:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T17:15:33.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...You Just Have To Fight For What You Know Is Right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I have felt the slightest bit of doubt I run. I run like the wind. I run so fast and so far away, so that *I* don't even feel pain anymore. I just get over it. Nothing effects me anymore. I am immune to break-ups and heartaches. I am immune to love. I am immune to feelings. I am numb to everything around me... until SG walked back into my life... and then I felt everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colors, smells, flavors, love, laughter, sadness...everything... I haven't FELT in a long time. It's been years. So I am not going to walk, or run away from someone who can make me laugh till my stomach hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is right. We Are right. What we feel for each other is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bigger&lt;/span&gt; than both of us. What we are is meant to be. I feel it with every fiber of my being, and I am not going to let this slip away over a motorcycle, or a dog, or a house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to go out tonight and look at that star... and when I do I am going to make sure &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt; knows he is the one I want. If I have to wait,  I will. If I have to get a new place that takes puppies, I will. If I have to get a motorcycle helmet and learn how to ride, I will. If I have to move out of state and pay half that mortgage myself I will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-3855793266025499277?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/3855793266025499277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=3855793266025499277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/3855793266025499277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/3855793266025499277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/sometimes.html' title='Sometimes...'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-6136423293947767077</id><published>2007-08-26T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T09:57:17.915-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>This Is Where It All Goes Bad...</title><content type='html'>For a month I knew what it was like to feel like a princess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I don't know what to do, or say, or think. I am sitting here wondering why SG didn't call me all day yesterday. I called him and he was really sweet, but he didn't call me back like he said he would. I know the 17 times a day phone calls would not continue forever but to go from 17 to nothing is a huge jump that leaves me panicky. It's taking every ounce of willpower I have not to call him right now. I want to hear his voice. I want to know everything is ok. I miss him. I miss the laughter, and I miss feeling special. I miss hearing him laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says he is still coming next weekend. I am so scared that I will get the house all nice, clear my calendar to be with him, get all excited and then he is going to say he's not coming. I am so afraid of that happening that I can't hardly get excited about the visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says he is still crazy about me and wants to be with me, so why do I feel like when I am looking at our star each night, I am looking at it alone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-6136423293947767077?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/6136423293947767077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=6136423293947767077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/6136423293947767077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/6136423293947767077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/this-is-where-it-all-goes-bad.html' title='This Is Where It All Goes Bad...'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-5613474122044084113</id><published>2007-08-22T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T21:31:06.256-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Distance...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There is more than just miles between &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt; and I tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that confrontation I had been dreading, came about 4pm this afternoon. I sat there in my office when he told me the words that cut me so deep I thought I was going to faint. "I don't think I can ever live in that town again". I could feel the burning in my eyes as the tears welled up, and started to stream down my cheeks and on to the desk. I could literally feel my Happily ever After slipping right out of my hands. The ache I felt hurt so bad I couldn't hold back the sobbing. I tried. I really did try. I didn't want him to know that he had hurt me. I sat there stunned and grieving for a relationship that never got a start. He back peddled but the words were out. They were said, and as long as he was living in another state, with his ex, I would always have that doubt that he meant what he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said the grief he feels over losing his mother is too much while he is here. I understand that. I truly do, but I was angry that he didn't tell me this sooner. Maybe he didn't even know, and I can't hate him for being a man with feelings and emotions. The one thing women want is a man with a heart, so how come when I get one, it's used against me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have dealt with all of that... but it got worse. He mentioned his dog, and how he couldn't bring him here, and he couldn't do that. So... now I am dumped for a dog? Another woman, grief, I am a shrew, I am too fat... all of those things I can handle. I can grieve and move on from just about anything... but not this dog thing again. I dated a man who put his dog before me all the time, he even let the beast sleep in the bed BETWEEN us... and now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt; can't be with "The Woman He Is Crazy About" Because of a D O G? Do you know how badly that made me feel? The shred of self esteem I had left at that point went scampering off tied to his dog's collar. I wanted to die right there. How could I even tell all of my friends and family that the reason we aren't together is because he chose a dog over me? How can I ever get over that? I will always have this horrible taste in my mouth now when I think of even trying to date a man with a dog. I mean, I understand that's NOT the only reason... but it's just another ridiculous roadblock on the path to our happy ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation went from horrible to me being catty and making comments I should never have made. I was hurting. I was so very upset. I wanted to smash everything on my desk. Not because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt; hurt me, but because *I* let him. I believed it when he said he was crazy about me. I believed it when he said he thought I was beautiful. I believed him when he said he wanted to move here and be with me. I really thought that we were meant to be together, and this was finally the one guy who wouldn't trample all over my heart, like the others before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't hit me like some of the others but I wish he had. At least when they do that, you can hate them, and move on and get out of the depression. With a wonderful guy, you never really get over them I don't think. It's almost September and I haven't had one decent relationship this year... I give up. I guess I am never gonna have that happy ending. How can I ever trust anyone again? I can't even trust my own judgement at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do I do? play pretend girlfriend for the next two years and wait until the market gets better... and HOPE he actually sells his house? Then HOPE he can move here (and stand it) so we can be together? Then what about the dog... in two years I imagine the attachment would be even worse... I just hope that he gets over all of his roadblocks? Then what if he doesn't? I have wasted another two years... I've never been a gambler. I don't think I can roll those dice with those odds. I think I have a better chance of finding a man who will be a nice companion, that I don't hate, that would actually be proud to be with me, than wait around for a man who would rather live with his dog and ex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I type this all out it sounds good in my head... but my heart says something entirely different.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-5613474122044084113?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/5613474122044084113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=5613474122044084113' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5613474122044084113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5613474122044084113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/distance.html' title='Distance...'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-2729843367336236376</id><published>2007-08-19T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T19:52:07.773-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Lost</title><content type='html'>Today I feel lost. This weekend has been emotionally hard for me. I lost my grandfather, and all at the same time realized that the paternal side of my family wants nothing to do with me... and I don't know why. I feel rejected by people I always felt close to growing up, and that hurts in a big way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt; started my Sunday off rather cryptic. He told me that he and his ex fought all night they came to the conclusion they are going to sell the house. In reality this should make me happy, but sadly I know this is not going to happen anytime soon. He was quiet and distant on the phone. I asked him what was wrong and he just said that he missed me. THAT was 7 hours ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said he was going to work in the yard and do some laundry and call me after while. He never goes this long without calling me. I tried to call him but he doesn't answer. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been here before. The waiting for a call that doesn't come. The waiting for a happy ending that doesn't come. I can't take any more rejection this week. I am going to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-2729843367336236376?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/2729843367336236376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=2729843367336236376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/2729843367336236376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/2729843367336236376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/lost.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-5288793748570678093</id><published>2007-08-16T12:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T12:02:07.729-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Up &amp; Down</title><content type='html'>I feel like I am on the roller coaster from hell. I go from feeling happy, and giddy to emotional and cranky all in the same day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually look forward to the morning call from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt;, I am on my way to Starbucks, and he is on his way to work, and we chat about how we slept, how our days are going to go, and then maybe we flirt a bit. Today I didn't want him to call me. Maybe he sensed it since he hasn't called me all day since our morning talk. I woke up feeling depressed, and frustrated. When we had our last phone call of the night last night, he told me he was going to go have "a big talk" with his ex. They haven't talked about living arrangements. They haven't talked about what they are going to do with the house, the furniture, and the dog. They both just keep avoiding that. I know how she feels, she is feeling like if she doesn't have the talk, it won't really happen. However, I try to understand his hesitation, but I don't. I want him to WANT to move back home so we can start our life together. I want him to WANT to make arrangements to get out of this situation, but I feel like there is some reason he hasn't done it. As usual, the conversation did not take place between he and the ex... and this forces me back into "limbo-land". This is a dark place for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate "limbo-land". I can't really think about our future, because at this point I don't feel like "our future" is his priority. This makes me feel anxious. I am caught at a point where my heart tells me he is amazing, he won't hurt me, he is serious about me, and he REALLY wants to be with me. However my head tells me that if he were serious, he would have done &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; about it. He would want to make a change in order to be with me... and since he hasn't, maybe he isn't as serious as I thought. I can't really move on with him, and it makes me feel anxious and angry. I have always said I won't make a man my entire world ever again, because when you get hurt it shatters you for a really long time, and you lose a piece of yourself to that shattered depression and anger. I don't want to feel like that. I don't want to resent him or his actions, but I do. I feel like I am wasting my time. Why should he make a change? He has his house, and dog, and he has my heart, and he doesn't even have to make a commitment. That was my fault. I said I would take things one day at a time... and I am still willing to do that, but each day that goes by that I see him not getting out of his situation makes me ache deep down inside. That little twinge of doubt grows with each passing day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there is the fact that we can't be "official" we can't really be out in the open with this until he makes some changes because I choose not to have drama, and make people think that we were having some big affair, when we weren't. I hate that, it makes me feel like his dirty little secret. It makes me feel like I am doing something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't live like this. I cry myself to sleep every night knowing that tomorrow will be another day without the man I so desperately want.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-5288793748570678093?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/5288793748570678093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=5288793748570678093' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5288793748570678093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5288793748570678093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/up-down.html' title='Up &amp; Down'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-5647051945543992872</id><published>2007-08-16T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T19:05:59.547-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT - 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RsOvmb8uGzI/AAAAAAAAAAs/HSs0VehbiXs/s1600-h/HNT.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RsOvmb8uGzI/AAAAAAAAAAs/HSs0VehbiXs/s320/HNT.3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099112277985860402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Connect The Dots"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's HNT was taken in the shower. You want to know where I am ticklish? Connect the dots, and follow the freckles down my back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy HNT!&lt;br /&gt;~xoxo~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-5647051945543992872?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/5647051945543992872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=5647051945543992872' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5647051945543992872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5647051945543992872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/hnt-3.html' title='HNT - 3'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RsOvmb8uGzI/AAAAAAAAAAs/HSs0VehbiXs/s72-c/HNT.3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-5338767014661356458</id><published>2007-08-15T14:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T16:16:50.874-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>The Most Beautiful Things...</title><content type='html'>...Are simple moments that stay with you forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like I was 12 years old again. I was nervous and giggly, and I couldn't stop playing with my hair. SG was so nervous he was trembling like a wet kitten when we hugged for the first time. After that first kiss it all went away and I knew I was with the man I was soposed to be with. I felt that tingle and that passion that you only read about it books, or see in the movies. It was the kiss I waited for all of my life. It was the kiss I want for the rest of my life. It was THE kiss to end all kisses. It's the kind of kiss that makes you forget every man before. That kiss, was made right in Heaven just for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laying together, snuggling, giggling, tickling, and just looking into each other's eyes. How could my weekend have been any better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he left me on Sunday he took my heart with him back home. I cried. I cried because he was leaving. I cried because we didn't want to let go of each other. I cried because he made me feel beautiful every time I looked into his eyes. I cried because I wasted so much time kissing frogs when my prince charming was across the courtyard all that time.  I cried because for the first time in my life I have someone who has the same dreams, morals and values as I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no ETA of when we can be together. That makes me crazy. I need something to look forward to. I need something to hang on to. I need to know that things are moving forward. I need to know I am not wasting my time. I need to know that when we say "soon" to each other it's really SOONer and not later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day I fall a little bit harder for this man because he makes me feel like no other man ever has, he makes me feel beautiful. He makes me feel like a princess, and even though he has never said it, he makes me feel loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is a beautiful person, inside and out. I am so very very blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-5338767014661356458?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/5338767014661356458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=5338767014661356458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5338767014661356458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5338767014661356458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/most-beautiful-things.html' title='The Most Beautiful Things...'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-7886488981352223416</id><published>2007-08-09T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T08:15:31.601-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT - 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RrsuEIuqs3I/AAAAAAAAAAk/NM8a165Ibh8/s1600-h/sexyshoe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RrsuEIuqs3I/AAAAAAAAAAk/NM8a165Ibh8/s320/sexyshoe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096718051897422706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I hate the way my feet look, but I LOVE these shoes!&lt;br /&gt;Happy Half Naked Thursday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-7886488981352223416?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/7886488981352223416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=7886488981352223416' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/7886488981352223416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/7886488981352223416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/hnt-2.html' title='HNT - 2'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RrsuEIuqs3I/AAAAAAAAAAk/NM8a165Ibh8/s72-c/sexyshoe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-4186065067312224949</id><published>2007-08-09T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T15:55:16.801-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>I Need A Rock...</title><content type='html'>...To Crawl Under.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My self doubt, my relationship sabotage and my defenses have me feeling like I need to find a rock to crawl under and hide. I don't have any idea what I am doing anymore. I want to see SG I really really do. I want all those things I said in the last two entries. However, I also feel like it's going to ruin everything. *I* am going to ruin everything. I always do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am literally flipping out. I want everything to be as perfect as it has been but I have this horrible feeling that I have made a huge mistake. I should have stayed away from him. Now his entire life is turned upside down. He's got all kinds of things to deal with and everyone knows I am not the easiest woman to date. (Wait, are we dating? I guess we haven't had a date so I guess we aren't dating. Geez I don't even know what we are. I am a mess.) I have no patience. I am spoiled. I am picky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I am just writing words on a page today, they aren't helping me like they used to. I am not feeling better as I spill all of my thoughts forth. I feel worse. I feel like I am going to throw up. I want to go back to bed and wake up in about 4 days. I don't want to go to work and sit there all day freaking out about SG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's gone too far. I have fallen for him. There is no turning back. I have to take the chance that he will fall for me in spite of myself... otherwise I will never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have been a nun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-4186065067312224949?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/4186065067312224949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=4186065067312224949' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/4186065067312224949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/4186065067312224949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-need-rock.html' title='I Need A Rock...'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-4303856050871669519</id><published>2007-08-08T15:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T21:51:05.563-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Dreams...</title><content type='html'>For the last three nights I have had nightmares. The kind of nightmares where you wake up in the middle of the night scared and in tears. I'm not sure why. They all have a common theme of being kidnapped, or taken hostage. Maybe the fear of losing my heart to SG has got me sleeping less than soundly. I don't understand why. I don't think I have ever been happier in my entire life. Maybe it's my inner Devil's advocate. I wish it would go away. I have more baggage under my eyes right now than an airport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not all bad though. Last night I also had a nice dream too. In my dream SG called me and told me to look out my bedroom window, and when I did there he was standing in the moonlight on the front lawn, with flowers in his hand. I ran out the door and into his arms. It was one of those amazing dreams that you wake up from and think, OH NO! Go back to sleep I want to stay there forever! One of those uber romantic moments that just never happens in real life. It was a nice thought though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have major moments of frustration. Mainly because I just feel like any minute all this amazing wonderfulness is going to come crashing in on me. I feel like it's too perfect. I feel like I don't deserve this, and someone "upstairs" made a mistake, and when they figure it all out they are going to take it all away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I feel like this about another person that I didn't pop out of me? Is this what it's like to be "in love" and all the other times I was just in infatuation or lust? Will this feeling last, or is it just some weird phase of the moon? Whatever it is, it's amazing. It's better than ice cream! It's tha cat's meow. It's the best thing since cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news SG told me he is going to come see me this weekend. I get butterflies just thinking about that. I want to see him so badly, but what if I don't live up to all his "dreams and fantasies" about me? What if he gets here and thinks "Oh my gawd she gained weight!" Or worse... This is when that self assured, self confident woman turns into the scared little girl that has been hurt so very many times. I guess I will just have to cross my fingers and toes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-4303856050871669519?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/4303856050871669519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=4303856050871669519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/4303856050871669519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/4303856050871669519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/dreams.html' title='Dreams...'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-1686185213968100919</id><published>2007-08-07T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T16:29:38.792-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Frustration Is Setting In...</title><content type='html'>Someone told me yesterday that I write well. I don't think that I am a great writer, and I don't write for fame or fortune. I just write what's in my heart. Sometimes I feel like I am just going to burst with emotions, and writing it helps get it all out. I feel calmer, and more settled after I journal. Perhaps that's why I do it. Or perhaps I want something to read when I am 60 so I can have a good laugh at how crazy I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The frustration of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt; situation has started setting in for both of us. I knew it would, but I had no idea that it would hit this soon. Long distance is hard. It's even harder when you had what you wanted so close and couldn't have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what is wrong with me. I don't think I have ever felt like this about another human being. I feel like I couldn't stand it if we had to go a day without talking. I have an ache deep down in the pit of my stomach just to be held by him, to be kissed by him to be loved by him. It's become an obsession. I daydream all day about what our kids would look like (if we had kids). I imagine what it would be like to wake up in his arms every day. I imagine how he looks sleeping. I imagine how his hands will feel on my skin, and in my hair. I get weak in the knees thinking about his lips on mine. My desire to be his has consumed my every waking thought. It scares the hell out of me, that I let a man get into my world, and make me feel like this. I want so very much to tell him just leave and come be with me. I don't care about anything but being with him anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I need to step back. I need to stop wishing on stars and planning our wedding. I need to focus. I am going to drive myself mad if I don't take a huge step away from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SG&lt;/span&gt;. I can't do this to myself again. I am so afraid he will break my heart into a million little non-repairable pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to run away...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-1686185213968100919?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/1686185213968100919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=1686185213968100919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/1686185213968100919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/1686185213968100919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/frustration-is-setting-in.html' title='Frustration Is Setting In...'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-897346772088541116</id><published>2007-08-05T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T20:40:18.922-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>I Want A Sunday Kind Of Love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...It's Not Just the Name of A Song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's what I want. I want an easy, fun, happy kind of love. I used to think the kind of man I would fall in love with had to have a "cool factor". Every guy I have ever dated long term has had that. There were DJ's, and guys in bands. There were uber geeky guild leaders, and guys with great accents. However there was always something missing. I was always looking for that kismet, that fire, that passion, that feeling you get Christmas morning when you are 7.  I want someone who makes me feel loved, secure, and cared for. I want someone who I can't live without. I want to be with a man who makes me feel like I am the only woman on the planet he could ever love. I want someone who makes me want to be a better person. It seems like I want a lot, but isn't that what everyone wants? They should. Everyone should go after that amazing love that comes along once in a life time and when you find it you just can't imagine how you ever lived without it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last month, I had just spent another birthday alone, and each year it gets a little harder. I told a friend that I would settle for a man in my life that I didn't want to choke. I was feeling defeated.  I was ready to settle.  I was ready to take what I could get, even though I wanted so much more.&lt;br /&gt;When SG wrote to me a few weeks ago in E-mail, I had no intention of starting something with him. He didn't have the "cool factor" he wasn't the type of guy I usually dated, and he lived so far away. So imagine my surprise when one day I woke up looking forward to his next phone call. I can still remember where I was when I realized I really liked this guy. I was standing in the parking lot of the apartment complex. It was a warm night and I had gone out to my car to get something, and he called. When I heard his voice say "Hello Beautiful" I got butterflies, and I caught my heart skip a beat. I knew right there, I was in trouble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's only been two weeks since that night, but I feel like that was a lifetime ago. I find myself smiling, and laughing more than I have in years. Everything tastes better, everything smells better, and even the flowers in my back yard look better. I have been a giddy ball of giggles for weeks now. I can't wait to hear his voice on the phone, each time he calls it just gets better and better. I am amazed daily by how perfect this all is. It's scary and wonderful and exciting all at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself daydreaming about the simplest things like coming home from work and cooking dinner for SG, then laying in the living room floor and watching a movie together. I can see him hanging Christmas lights while I stand outside below him telling him to move them more to the left. It's crazy, I haven't seen him in almost three years, we haven't even had a real date and I am planning our Goldfish's names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago I was ready to settle for "someone I can stand", and now I feel like I have met someone I can't stand to be without. I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;am&lt;/span&gt; settling... for perfect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-897346772088541116?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/897346772088541116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=897346772088541116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/897346772088541116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/897346772088541116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-want-sunday-kind-of-love.html' title='I Want A Sunday Kind Of Love...'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-5262394930651318108</id><published>2007-08-04T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T10:15:37.688-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>The Talk...</title><content type='html'>Yesterday started as any other day. I had my Starbucks, and went to work just like every other day. However, it wasn't just like every other day. It was different, and amazing, and by the end of the night I was so insanely happy I thought I was going to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I E-Mailed S. and told her that things were going really great with SG and I over the phone but I was worried, and I had doubts that he had really broken up with his girlfriend. I told her I was worried That I was going to be running around picking out wedding dresses while he was still playing house with his ex. This is why I e-mail S. I know she will always bring me back down to earth when I go fluttering off to La La land chasing butterflies and picking daisies. She told me what I already knew. I needed to really make sure that he was making some kind of move forward. I needed him to get his situation handled before I ended up hurt. I knew I HAD to talk to him about all of this before I drove myself mad with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SG called several times during the day, but it never seemed like the right time. I was scared that he would feel pressured or maybe he didn't really feel like he wanted to sell his house and throw everything away that he has worked for, for ME. Even typing that it sounds crazy. How could I even ask him to think about something like that? I agonized all day, and finally while he was on his way home from work we had a little chat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him that I had really come to care for him, and I knew that he cared about me, but we really had to figure out what we are doing. If he is really really sure that he wants to try to start something with me then he had to get out of the situation he is in. I know that selling his house right now would be a huge mistake as the market is really bad for sellers. I wouldn't ask him to take a hit on his credit like that. So I told him let's just take this one day at a time, and let's just start with a real date.  I told him you come and visit me, and we will spend some time together and see how it goes. Then if after that we feel like this is really what we want, we will take it from there. He agreed, and was relieved. He was so worried that I was going to dump him if he didn't handle things in a certain time frame. I assured him I would do everything in my power to be there for him through this, and we would get through it together. It's not like I am going to sit around waiting for years or anything like that. I just feel like he deserves a reasonable amount of time to make some choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just as frustrated as he is that we missed our first chance to be together. We both believe that there is a reason that we didn't get together then, and we have this chance now. There are so many things that had to happen and fall into place just for us to meet. We both feel like this is bigger than just us. Sure, I would love for him to be here with me now so we can just spend time together, and start thinking about OUR future. However, I know I have to wait. It's hard but I just pray every day that I will learn to be more patient, and remember that I am on God's time table not mine. I know that the reward will be worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the night we were both outside looking up at the stars and picking one that we could both look at every night before bed and think of each other. When I realized that we had both been looking at the same star as he described the one he was looking at, I felt this tear stream down my cheek, and I knew. It's going to be hard. It's going to be frustrating. It's going to be a true trial of my strength. I have to take this chance. He could be my happy ending.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-5262394930651318108?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/5262394930651318108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=5262394930651318108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5262394930651318108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5262394930651318108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/talk.html' title='The Talk...'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-3614620378997766181</id><published>2007-08-03T14:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T14:39:15.583-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>It's All My Fault</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;My timing sucks. Just sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Here is this really great guy, that I could have had with no effort at all. Living within feet of my front door. Now here I sit, regretting so much that wasted chance. How could I have even known that he would be so fabulous? There HAS to be a reason that we are into each other 2 years later, and not then. I just wish I knew what it was. It would make what I am going through now so much easier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Last night I went to the fair with one of my girlfriends, and went and saw Rascal Flatts in concert. They were great, but after a few drinks every time I heard a sappy song, I wanted to call SG, and tell him how fabulous I think he is. I would see couples walking all lovey dove all over the fair, and I was angry. I was angry that I wasn't one of those couples. I was angry that I had the chance years ago to HAVE that... and screwed it up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;I am so torn. I am happy and giggly and excited when he calls me. I love hearing his voice. I love talking to him, and I love that he loves talking to me. However, when ever we hang up I can't help but feel that frustration that I feel because of his situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;I want to know where this is going. I want to know what his plans are. I want to know that I am not wasting my time, and starting to really care about someone, who has no intentions of becoming more than buddies that flirt on the phone. I want to know that when he goes to bed each night *I* am the one in his heart. How can I even ask this of him now? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;When I already had my chance...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-3614620378997766181?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/3614620378997766181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=3614620378997766181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/3614620378997766181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/3614620378997766181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/its-all-my-fault.html' title='It&apos;s All My Fault'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-5368278759272956238</id><published>2007-08-02T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T10:21:25.890-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RrIHDouqs1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/P9YoRKBSGWQ/s1600-h/11515340.4887sat2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RrIHDouqs1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/P9YoRKBSGWQ/s320/11515340.4887sat2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094141887563608914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Half Naked Thursday Entry ~ Sheer Panties&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Picture for SG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RrIHf4uqs2I/AAAAAAAAAAc/eRNxQzg_byM/s1600-h/11515340.2911sat3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RrIHf4uqs2I/AAAAAAAAAAc/eRNxQzg_byM/s320/11515340.2911sat3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094142372894913378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some women wear their heart on their sleeve. I wear mine on my G-String!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-5368278759272956238?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/5368278759272956238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=5368278759272956238' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5368278759272956238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/5368278759272956238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/hnt.html' title='HNT'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mXwxHyNtdYA/RrIHDouqs1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/P9YoRKBSGWQ/s72-c/11515340.4887sat2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2944251400683903545.post-336263227829999055</id><published>2007-08-01T14:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T10:35:30.419-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shirtless guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>This Could Be The Start Of Something..</title><content type='html'>Two weeks ago I got an e-mail that changed my life. I knew when I saw the name and the picture who was e-mailing me. I knew the chance I was taking when I replied... but I did anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two years ago I had a neighbor who lived &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;across&lt;/span&gt; from me. The only thing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;separating&lt;/span&gt; our apartments was a patch of grass and a big beautiful fruitless mulberry tree that had been there for years and years. When he moved in I didn't really notice him. I had a boyfriend at the time, and I was blissfully unaware that the man across the courtyard was admiring me. He lived there for a little over a year before he moved. In that time we hardly spoke to one another. He spoke to me one time in the laundry room, but I thought he was just being friendly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he did move out he gave me one of his plants claiming he didn't have room to take it, so I agreed to adopt "Phil". I named the plant Phil because it was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;philodendron&lt;/span&gt;, and was half dead. I hoped by giving him a name he would come back to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never really thought about the neighbor again much after that even though I had a living reminder in my kitchen. Then one day he ran into my best friend in a store, and asked about me. Had he just asked about me I probably wouldn't have thought he was interested, but he called her later in the day to ask me if I was seeing anyone. By that time I wasn't really. However,  I had just met someone and was hoping that he was my happy ending. It turned out not to be, but it took me 10 months and a lot of tears to find that out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the year that followed I would sometimes think about that neighbor, and wondered why he never asked her for my number, or came by my apartment, since he knew where I lived. I always wondered what if...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it happened. He found me on my high school alumni page on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt;, and dropped me an e-mail. I noticed his profile said he was in a relationship, and for a moment I actually felt a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt;. I was hoping he was contacting me to proclaim his massive crush on me. I honestly didn't know a thing about him, except that he had a crush on me when he lived there. I took the high road a replied with a very nice e-mail. I let him know it was good to hear from him, and I was hoping he was very happy in his relationship. I secretly wanted him to say he wasn't happy, so imagine my surprise when he actually did say those exact words. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt; they were followed by the words "...WE own a house together...". I told him I hoped he could work things out, and went on with my day. After all, I had just gotten out of a 4 month love affair with a man a third of the way around the world, and was slightly reeling from that mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A day went by and the next e-mail I got included his phone number with the excuse he didn't like to type. I felt bad about calling a man with a girlfriend, a house and a dog... so I gave him mine and just kind of let the whole thing go. I should have known he would call me right away. To be honest when I picked up the phone I had already seen the caller ID, so I knew it was him. I felt butterflies. I haven't felt those in a long time, so I was a bit hyper. I tried to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;kewl&lt;/span&gt;, and act like I wasn't excited that he called, but I had to wonder if after all these years he didn't still have a crush on me. How romantic that some guy would pine away for me for THAT long? Was I hoping? NO! I couldn't have been hoping... that would make me a home wrecker!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked occasionally for the next 4 days, and we found out we have a lot in common and our personalities are very similar. We both have family, and roots here where I live, and we both love the small town atmosphere of our community. He started telling me how beautiful I still am, and then he told me all about the time he would look at me while he was doing dishes, or out at his car. I was shocked. I had no idea that while he lived here he found me attractive at all. I was flattered, excited that he was still attracted to me, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt; that he had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;girlfriend&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't go on like that, I would end up getting hurt. I told him 5 days after we started talking, that I didn't know what was going on between us, but I was not going to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; other woman, and we couldn't continue talking like this if he was going to stay with his girlfriend and he had to take care of business at home first. The next day he told me he told his girlfriend that he was done and wanted out. I felt a little ping of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;excitement&lt;/span&gt;, but at the same time I felt sad for her, and then guilty. I didn't want to be the reason he left her. I have been on the receiving end of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;cheating&lt;/span&gt; boyfriend, and would never do that to another woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We haven't seen each other in about 2 years, but I feel like I have known him all my life. He talks about being settled and having a house, and a white picket fence. He is ALWAYS telling me how beautiful, and cute, and funny I am. He says all the right things all the time. That scares me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can this man, possibly "the man of my dreams", own a house in another state with another woman? How is that part of my happy ending? If we aren't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;suppose&lt;/span&gt; to be together than why do I feel like we are? Why do I get excited and smile like a school girl when I see his name on my cell phone? Why do I feel so insanely happy and giggly every time we talk? Why do I feel sad when he has to get off the phone and go back to work? Why do I have this overwhelming desire for him to kiss me and hold me each night when I fall asleep?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2944251400683903545-336263227829999055?l=russiangoldfish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/feeds/336263227829999055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2944251400683903545&amp;postID=336263227829999055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/336263227829999055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2944251400683903545/posts/default/336263227829999055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://russiangoldfish.blogspot.com/2007/08/this-could-be-start-of-something.html' title='This Could Be The Start Of Something..'/><author><name>Indigo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16265072863461222362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v709/amiragotk/114536kwrx7cqdx2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
