HBM's Bitchin' Bitchfest

This weekend, there's a whole lotta bitchin' goin' on around the Interwebs. Her Bad Mother has organized some safe space for us to let it all hang out. In honor of this unique event, I've opened up my blog for another blogger to fly her bitch-flag. While I'm hosting another blogger on my blog, there are blogs all over the Interwebs doing the same. Check out the comments section at HBM to find out where the rest of the ranting, bitching, and heart-pouring posts are going down. Without further ado, I bring you my guest bitch. We'll call her Bitchin' Betty. Give her a big califmom kind of welcome, and show her some love in the comment section. I think she may need it. We love you, Bitchin' Betty.

it's just another sad, sad song on the radio
i don't know if you've heard this one before
i'm just another sad, sad girl behind a closed window
and you know i've got one eye on the door
if my heart hadn't known better

i might have loved you more
if i finally find the motivation to consider it
i might not walk back through your door

and if another night falls without the recognition
well it might be all that it takes for me to leave
if true love is such a simple decision

it just might not exist for me
give me one good reason why i should stay
i don't want to spend another season wasting away
it's true thats it's more than the two of us

so if i gotta do what i gotta do then i'll do it because
she's gonna know there's more to life

there's more out there than this
she's gonna know there's more to love
than just a simple kiss
i want her to see the world for what lies just beyond those pretty blue, blue eyes

you seem to be confused
let me bring it down to size
if my heart hadn't known better
i might have loved you more
if i finally find the motivation to consider it
i might not walk back through your door

and if another night falls without the recognition
well it might be all that it takes for me to leave
and if true love is such a simple decision then it just might not exist for me

while that pretty much sums it up, i don't feel finished.  i feel like throwing things or bawling like a tired infant or both maybe because i'm 28 years old and i have two beautiful healthy kids, great family and friends.  and a reliable car and a new house in a great neighborhood and i live in a beautiful place surrounded by oceans and gardens and everything that anybody could ever want. and i have a husband that i am adding as an afterthought because really i am the loneliest person on earth i think.

three months after we met i was on my second pregnancy. four years later and there are two kids and a two year marriage and a life i made for myself despite knowing that the universe was trying its damndest to prevent me from making.

i knew from the first kiss that there was no sexual chemistry whatsoever.  so i just stopped kissing him.  when my wedding proposal consisted of him holding a ring in my general direction as i struggled to tie my shoe over my swollen pregnant belly, and the only words uttered were "you know the drill", i knew it was a mistake.  when two days later i had to have the jeweler cut the ring from my swollen finger it was further proof. and on our wedding day, in our fine dining clothing in my mom's backyard, accompanied by 12 people and the justice of the peace when he stumbled repeatedly over the word "forever" i knew it all over again.

but, see, i'm not an easy person to love. and i need to take what i can get. and my husband is a good hard working man, and a great friend, and a decent human being.  he doesn't drink himself into a violent oblivion or do drugs.  he's not abusive in any way.  he is loyal.

but he's not for me.  we have nothing in common.  i don't care how his day at work was or at least i have no desire to hear about it in graphic detail in terminology i don't understand.  i have zero interest in NASCAR or football or loud 80's heavy metal bands that sound to me like pots and pans being thrown down the basement stairs. i like nora jones and fiona apple and ani difranco.  i like art and pottery and the beach. and intelligent conversation and good sex--neither of which i have had in some years. i have a six month old son and the last time i had sex was the day he was conceived.  and before that it was 8 months without. and so on and so on. 

so if you ever meet my husband and he tells you i am a total bitch, that's why. but he would never tell you that because he is a good man. and he is lying to himself.

i wish i could say i love him. but i don't and i never have. and i'm with him for the sake of the kids.  and though we rarely fight when we do, it is with venom.  i have told him i wish the kids weren't his.  i have told him that i am convinced he is gay. i have told him that the loneliest i have ever been in my life are the years i have been with him.  i said those things on purpose to harm him, and although i know it was out of anger and i was being vicious, i meant every word.  and he sat there with his arms folded across his chest and said nothing, but for the mumbles under his breath as i was walking away. meant for me to hear, but not really because he doesn't have the balls. because he knows that when it comes to a war on words, i would chew him up and spit him out and never look back.

as i said, i am not an easy person to love.  and he is not an easy person to receive love or show it, because he bases his masculinity on things that are totally irrelevant to what love is, and what it means to be a man, and it's all because his mother is a crazy douchebag, and i would love to tell her that someday and mean it.

and that is what this vent was supposed to be about originally, but evidently the fingers will type what the brain tells them to, when the brain is given a chance to be the boss. 

but now my fingers must go back to the mundane tasks of changing diapers, and cooking dinner, and maintaining a household because somebody has to do it.

thanks for this opportunity to show my ugly side, as it was starting to leak into my pretty side.