Tag Archives: married

Send Me Some Christmas Cheer?

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I’m in need of a bit of Christmas cheer, a good carol, or some Christmas fairy lights.

I feel like I’m living in Scrooge’s house. As I have mentioned before, I don’t own the house. And whilst I’m going home for Christmas, someone else is staying in my room, so I can’t decorate it either. This also means I have to hide everything, and leave it in a nice state. Easier said than done.

I’m at home for Christmas, so this means moping about in the middle of no where, on my own. The worst thing about Christmas is being single? It’s not. The worst thing about Christmas is having someone I love, and knowing Mr Married Man is playing happy families whilst I’m on my own telling everyone I’m single.

Then there’s my sister. She has never liked me, I took some of the attention from her when I was a baby and she has never forgiven me for this. So now she’s engaged with her own baby. She has never liked children. The baby was an ‘accident’. She loves the attention from having a baby, and her wedding. But puts little effort into either. She is already on about a second child, and this drives me crazy.

I know I sound jealous, I’m not, I’m happy for her. Does she have everything I want? Yes. But she went to Uni, and has her career as well. I never wanted that. I want to be a SAHM, and one day I shall be.

So to survive the Christmas holidays, I better find a lot of Christmas cheer, and soon. Luckily for me, I have great friends back home who will certainly cheer me up. For now, I need to finish my xmas shopping and get the presents wrapped. If you find any magical christmas dust, send it my way please!

To Pill, or Not To Pill

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As I mentioned before, I am not actually a mummy (yet). But one day, I’ll get there. At the moment, I’m known as an ‘honorary mummy’ in regards to my work.

Some people start their blog when their children are a few years old, some when they’re just born, and others when they’re pregnant. I thought I’d be different, as they say, the preconception is important too!

So this is my story, from scratch.

We have now been dating 53 days, So nearly two months. And after a few weeks of joking about, we’re onto the subject of having a baby. Now I know how crazy this sounds, I do. I am not some completely insane woman out to get pregnant by any man. Most of the time, he just likes winding me up, so I’ll wind him up back about it.

During sex last, he said ‘promise me you’ll stop taking the pill’. I of course said no. He said he just gets caught up in the whole manly instinct of wanting to impregnate women – only me, I might add. His manly instincts are to start a family, and he’s decided I’m the one he wants to with and he has never felt like this about anyone before.

Do you not think it would be amazing to be lying in bed, with me up against you, hands on our bump feeling our baby grow? You see, I’m in a difficult situation here because he’s right, that would be amazing. But I can’t just say ‘lets go for it’, because although my heart says yes, that would make The Fairytale come true, I think with my head not cock testosterone.

So for now, he has a private blog post to read explaining the reason why, for now, I can’t say yes. No matter how much I really wish I could.

He hasn’t read it yet, he’s busy at the moment. Honestly, I am actually scared about him reading it. I’m scared he’ll hate me for it. But we shall see.

I do believe in fate, and destiny, and all that mambo jambo though. So I said if we were to have an ‘accident’ (and I mean a real one, I would never mess up my pills on purpose or deceive him), then it’s meant to be and we will both be very happy it’s happened, if not, then we were meant to wait.

So the decision is now down to fate, lets see what it brings

Never Fall for a Married Man

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It’s obvious right, never fall for a married man

I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t. I had built up quite a good dating barrier. Men use women for no strings attached sex. I was fine with that. I understood that, and had my fun with it. If it meant having a fun time in clubs, going out for dinner, free rooms in posh hotels and unlimited bar tabs I was all up for it. They showed me a good time, and I repaid them by giving them what they wanted. If I didn’t like a guy, I wouldn’t accept anything off them. We could go for dinner, but I would always pay my half, return the favour with buying drinks and so on. I felt like I would owe them otherwise. I have too much respect to sleep with someone I didn’t want to, although I’m not saying there are any I don’t regret slightly. I even once got a cab with a guy, and got out half way as I realised I didn’t want to sleep with him. Good thing I was drunk, or perhaps I wouldn’t have had dared do it.

I explained my ‘owing’ theory to Mr Married Man, he thought I was a bit crazy. I just want to spoil you like you deserve, you don’t owe me anything. I couldn’t compete with the prices of the places we were going, after all he does earn a lot more than me, and was clearly trying to splash his cash to show off. I paid for myself to get into a club, only £20, but I felt like I had a bit of my dignity back.

I slept with him on the grounds that I didn’t owe him anything. That, looking back, is where I probably went wrong.

After three dates, I was already looking forward to the fourth. He had gotten into my little head, and was now stuck there. Bollocks.

As the saying goes all the good ones are either gay, or taken. Seems as the gay ones are off the market for the long run, just the taken ones left.

My Story

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If you think mistress’s are horrible, man stealing, whorish bitches who are so disgusting they can’t find their own men, then yes, I would have to say at some point I would have to agree with you. I absolutely hate the idea. And part of me hates myself for getting in this situation. Okay, a big part.

I have friends who have stolen others boyfriends, and I’ve hated them for it. Of all the fish in the sea, why steal someone elses? This has also lead to other friends trying to commit suicide and a whole big mess. It’s horrible, heart breaking, and unfortunately to some worth trying to take your life.

Now I have a bit of a habit for dating complete dicks who treat me like shit and force all their insecurities on me. I don’t date them on purpose, you just don’t realise how much of a mess you’re in til afterwards.

This is pretty much what happened again in this case, although the guy isn’t a complete dick, as of yet.

I knew he was married. He was open about this from the start. We chatted online for months, nothing serious, just a bit of flirting. There was absolutely no intention of ‘stealing’ this guy at all. We got on quite well and he invited me out for drinks one night. As I was new to the city, I had joined a site which meant I was meeting new random people off the internet each week just to be friends and meet new people in the same boat as me. It wasn’t some shady kind of dating, just going out for drinks, seeing the city and then onto a club, nothing more. So meeting one more wasn’t going to hurt.

We met at a bar in the city. I had never been in the actual business part of the city before so felt completely out of place in my short dress and heels with everyone else in suits. Needless to say I stood out slighty. I just did not belong. After a few cocktails we went to a champagne bar. It was dead. Completely.

You know those scenes in the cheesy movie where the guy stretches and puts his arm around the girl? Yeah, he did that. I thought ‘he’s married, he’s married, he’s married… what the hell is he doing’. I sat further forwards and sipped the champagne wondering how on earth I ended up here.

The bar shut early, after he paid the ridiculously expensive bill, we grabbed a taxi and headed to my favourite club in the west end. Much more in my comfort zone. We seated at a discrete table where no one could see us to continue our drinks, and this is where it all went wrong. We were sat in a corner, with my legs crossed away from him and I had kept my jacket on as I was warming up from the minute walk from the taxi to inside the club. His hands started to wander up my legs. I glared at him as they did so. ‘You’re married, stop it’.He looked back disappointed, ‘Alright, if you don’t want me to’. A few minutes later his hands were wondering again, up my legs, under my jacket and he was getting closer to me. I moved my head away, he tried again. ‘No’ I said, getting quite annoyed. ‘Sorry, I just can’t resist, you look amazing’. I reminded him again ‘You’re married’. He looked at me, a little embarrassed. ‘We’re not together, I told her it was over months ago’. That was all it took for me to kiss him back. That’s how this little story all began.

Welcome to my life.