Why isn’t Highland Park reaching out????

Ahh…I am so much more patient when I hear from him. This is sick and pathetic.

I hope I never hear from him again. Cold turkey. It’s the only way.
Let the healing begin.

I started reading the ACT book this morning- Acceptance and Commitment Therapy book.

It is all about accepting everything about myself and then committing taking action based on my values.

MY values???

What the fuck are my values? That is a good question. I better find out fast.

It just hit me today, this afternoon, after meditation: WHAT THE FUCK AM I THINKING???

I am mainly waiting for Highland Park to reach out to me. Desperately waiting, I might add. With bated breath.

And he never does.

I always preempt his move by reaching out first.

I don’t have to do that. I never have to do that.

I am a fabulous intelligent magnetic woman with a lot to offer.

I play so small. So fucking small.

I see a fierceness in my daughter’s eyes. She is only four but she has a fighter in her. A warrior.

She will need it.

I applaud it.

I need to find my inner warrior.

I lost her along the way.

Give up

Let it go



I feel like I should write something even though, at this point, I have no idea what to write. I appreciate that you miss communicating with me and hope we have a good chance to soon. I think I have made it abundantly clear how I feel and what I miss. Maybe I feel too much. That could be the problem.

Anyway, I wish you and your family only the best of everything always.

And I am happy to communicate with you in whatever way feels right at the time.

You have my number, and you know where I am.



Dear Highland Park,

I am way too emotional and vulnerable to be waiting and wondering so much. I knew this day would come and I have dreaded it for all the right reasons. It sucks.

Sex with you was one of the most intimate, comfortable, sensual, and erotic experiences of my life. I will never forget it. You not only reminded me that I was a powerfully sexual woman but that I deserved to enjoy that part of myself, exalt in it, and that it could be super fun and playful.

You set the bar high and I am so incredibly grateful for that because I don’t want to settle for anything less ever again.

I wish you and your beautiful family only the best.

My love, always.



This could be a keeper, although, I keep wanting to add that I am here to talk anytime he wants to and then I keep realizing how pathetic that sounds but afraid to send it because it feels so final, and like a crack addict wanting one more hit, think, just one. More. Time. Then I will be okay.

Dear You,

I wish I was cooler than I am. I wish I could sit and wait and wonder with ease. But I can’t. I am way too emotional and vulnerable to handle this with the level of detachment required for this situation, at least on my end, to be successful.

I hate, so much, to admit that I may not be cut out for this job.

I wanted to be. I really did. I tried so hard to be calm cool and collected as you slowly moved away from me and the intensity of the beginning.

It’s all inevitable, I know. This relationship only had one outcome, and this is it.

I wanted more though. I wanted to experience so much more with you before it got to this point. I had so many ideas, dreams, and plans.

But they have all fallen to the wayside as I realize, I feel too much for you, and that is a problem for me.

Nobody has ever made me feel the way you do or fucked me the way you did. You raised the bar and I am eternally grateful for that because I never want to settle for anything less again.

Unfortunately, if having sex with the tattoo artist is any indication, it could be hard finding someone like you.

But alas, I persevere.


It all sounds so stupid.

I was with my husband today. His body looks really good. It made me hurt so bad to look at him, feel an attraction, and realize he feels none of that for me. Turning away it was hard not to cry. I have been holding back tears all day. I want to sob. But I am mothering a four year old right now and that is not an option.

My heart aches. I wanted my marriage to work so badly.

Acceptance and commitment therapy.

Is engaging with Highland Park moving me closer to my values?

Hell no.

I will have to send something.

Just not tonight.

I will send it tomorrow.

I will sleep on it, and the right words will come.

I just wish I could say them to his face.

After we had sex.

One. Last. Time.

All I can think before I go to bed right now is THANK GOD I HAVEN’T SENT ANYTHING YET.

God .I am so pathetic.

I am supposed to love my patheticness, embrace her. It’s hard, when she is so needy, I am afraid that if I give her any attention she will never go away. Better to kick her to the curb like a mangy lost dog.

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4 thoughts on “MANGY LOST DOG

  1. The waiting was the worst. I had some semblance of a communication schedule at least.. Writer’s break and lunch hour.. But only texting (then he could have multiple conversations with God only knows how many women). He never could give me a concrete schedule for me to plan around.. And yet he pushed me to date others.. How the hell was I supposed to do that, make a guy feel like second rate leftover crumbs because I had to wait for Writer to say Boo? That experience greatly contributed to my desire to leave active poly behind.


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