The Rumours Are True...

Things have been going good with Damon; he stayed over the last two nights and will probably turn up tomorrow again, as well, if he caught my subtle little hint that I would be home alone.

Pubtown is rife with rumours...

Golden Shower Boy, Twink and Fido have all been giving Damon death stares. I suppose as hubby's mates they are entitled to think I've wronged hubby in some way. I know it's been killing him and eating him up inside; the Wondering.

Of Just Who it is I'm fucking.

So we sit on different sides of the Pub and let them all think what they want.

Because it's no one's business but ours who we are rooting.

Hubby came up to my house on Thursday; just so we could fix up a problem with our mobile phone provider. I cancelled the plan we had been on and got his old number released so that he could go back to Vodaphone. He left and went to the Pub with Twink. Mac is moving out of the house he's shared with Twink for five years and hubby is moving into Mac's old room. He seems relieved he'll be out of his mother's.

An hour later I was sitting out the back with a glass of wine (smiling at the thought of watching Damon eating a piece of caramel slice) when hubby appeared around the corner of the house again. I asked him what he'd forgotten. He said Nothing and then sat down; telling me as he did that he wasn't here to start an argument.

(NB We have only started talking again over little things; like getting the phone's sorted or when he's going to mind Little Son).

But that he Had to know who I was sleeping with.

Me: (trying to stall) What?

Hubby: It's all over the Pub. Everyone's talking. Everybody's disgusted with you.

Me: Who said what?

Hubby: Just tell me. Is it Brendo?

(NB Brendo scared the fuck out of me in the park one night. I had been arguing with hubby at Twink's and had left the party and was calling a cab from the park. Brendo followed, asked if I was okay, then when I told him I was fighting with hubby and going home he asked me if he could lick my pussy. I told him to get fucked and started walking away, fast, through the park; so he sent his Pit bull after me. I would Definitely Not fuck Brendo).

Me: Brendo? No!

Hubby: So it's Fluff, then.

(NB Fluff is Brendo's twin brother; and only Just a little less scary).

Me: No! As if I'd fuck Fluff.

Hubby: So it's Damon; isn't it?

Me: Damon is my friend.

Hubby: (Triumphant) You didn't say No.

This went on for a while; I kept telling him it was none of his business and I didn't have to tell him shit. Then he started picking on me for drinking so much. It was what had ruined our relationship.

Me: So it had nothing to do with years of being called a mental slut? It had nothing to do with getting bashed? Maybe, just maybe, being told things like you are 'Shit Fuck' and that you hope I 'Die Alone' were a part of it, too.

Hubby: You liked it when I hit you. You encouraged it, even. Even CC and Shaz (my good friends) think that you did.

(NB I know that isn't true; when I rang CC today she said she did have a conversation with hubby about it a few weeks ago. She told me that she had said was that maybe I liked it when he was being nice to me again, after the beatings, when he was sorry and being kind because he had fucked up. When he would bring me yogurt or soup because I was too sore to even chew. He was nice to me, afterwards. I see the point CC made, but he misconstrued her words.)

He left; but half an hour later the phone rang.

Hubby: Just tell me Who. It's doing my head in. If you ever cared you would tell me. I'm not going to cause shit. I'd tell you. I'd be up front.

Me: I'm not asking anything about what you've done.

Hubby: I know you don't have to say but I just want to know Who's been hiding the truth from me. I know it's someone from the Pub. Why haven't they come up and fronted me about it?

Me: I guess because he doesn't think it's any of Your business who he is sleeping with, either.

Hubby: I know it's Damon.

Me: I'm not telling you.

Hubby: If you ever cared, you'd tell me. Please. Can you just tell me? I won't go up to him and say anything. I don't care who it is. I just need to know.

(NB At this point I could tell he was getting upset. Not angry. Upset.)

Me: Okay.It is Damon.

Hubby:( Very relieved) Thanks. I just needed to know. I won't front him.

Me: I shouldn't have even told you. You didn't need to know.

Hubby: But I did.

We hung up. Ten minutes later the phone rang again...

Hubby: I'm sorry I pressured you into telling me. I don't expect anything from you but I want, I hope, that you get your shit in a pile. Quit the wine and get another job soon. And spend more time with Little Son. He's all you've got left now and all you seem to want to do is palm him off to Grandma. Would you even consider staying home from the Pub on Friday night and I'll take you and him out to dinner and the movies?

(NB Did I forget to tell you I got the sack on Tuesday? For leaving a half-empty bottle of milk and a container of Vindaloo in a fridge? That's another story which will have to wait. Meanwhile I'm job searching hard. I want to send a Happy Fucking Christmas card to my ex boss. Jan; if you weren't already blocked from my blog I'd tell you right now to Go and Get Fucked.)

Me: I don't think we should. We'll end up fighting about something like we always do. I'm not ready for Anything like that.

Hubby: Then just for dinner. Little Son would like to. Please. Will you do this for him? Will you do this for me? For yourself? Will you just stay out of the Pub for one Friday night?

Me: I wasn't even planning on going Friday. I just lost my job. Remember?

He sounded so unhappy; and even though I don't want to let him think I will still do anything he asks of me I relented anyway.

Me: For little Son then. Dinner. But no movie.

Hubby: Thanks. I'll call you tomorrow.

Damon turned up after he had finished playing in a dart competition. Over a few wines I told him what had happened. He wasn't too fazed; let him 'think what he wants to think' was his attitude. It's no one else business. He was fine when I told him I was going out for a Family Dinner.

Damon: It's two o'clock in the morning. Feel like a bit of a Cuddle?

Me: (Smilingly) Mmmm....

To Be Continued...

Pub Town...

Hey T

Sorry it's been so long Babe; I missed your birthday and everything! Hope you had a great day on the 7th!

See; I moved out on my birthday; me and the kids are in our own little house now. It was pissing down rain but I still managed to move house and be at the Pub before midday. Then I had 20 pints on the bar for me from my drinking buddies- it pays to be a local. I was drinking beer until the next Friday! Hope you had a happy one too, Old Girl. Happy 35th Sister!

My new address is Pub Town. Delete 19 Fucked Up Parade from your little black book forever. The place is being knocked down!

So; me and hubby are over. Completely. He's back at his Mum's and paying me maintenance for the kids.

It's a Big Big Secret; but I'm already seeing somebody else. His name is Damon (But he's known as Tazz; as in a Tasmanian. I've known him for about six months from down the pub but have only just hooked up with him in the last four weeks.) He is 44 ; a Leo and I really like him. He makes me laugh. He's been my mate at the pub since he moved down here; we're keeping it quiet but hubby already knows. It's kinda hard to keep it from him after hubby's mother turned up and Tazz was in my bed...

Hehe.

I'm, a bad girl! The kid's have met him and all is good in the world. Except with hubby; he is very angry and hopes that I die alone. He told me (after he found out I was fucking Tazz) that I was scraping the bottom of the barrel. I told him it's None of his business who I fuck anymore; Tazz is playing darts tonight ( he's an A grade Lover: I mean Player) but he's been here the last three nights and is even fixing my car. I like him a lot T. Keep your legs crossed for me...because mine are OPEN for business!

Hope you are going well; miss you (and your letters) heaps. So what's been going on? Hope all is well in T-Land!

Talk Soon.

Miss Constrewed x

(Ps Tazz always calls me Ruthie)

(PPS Do you think it's too soon to be moving on?)

(PPS I'm drunk and have had half a pill; on a Thursday nightl Is that bad?)

(PPPS Love ya!)

Damon...

I couldn't get a babysitter for Little Son while he has the chicken pox. Everyone that I know who is at home has little kids and I wouldn't expect them to take on a Poxy child.

So I was whining at the Pub. That I would have to miss out on a shift at work because there was No One to fill in.

Damon: I'll mind him for you while you work if you like.

It took me about six seconds to decide. And so that was how he came to be at my house at eight o'clock this morning.

Little Son was all over him like a rash...though they have met before.

Damon: He's his Mother's son, isn't he?

Mmm...

I went to work and bought home two Long-necks of beer after I'd finished.

He stayed and drank his beer; a Thankyou for minding Litttle Son.

We flirted. I eventually kissed him. He told Me to stop but I knew he didn't want me to. I could feel his hard on beneath my hand. When he said he had to go I thanked him again for coming up and helping out. He told me it was no worries- Any Time; I told him my plans for tommorrow included him. He smiled and told me I owed him a blow job. And then he walked home.

I really like him...

Hubby told me, in a text, that I'm really scraping the bottom of the barrel, now.

But that was how it Was.

Before.

Just A Boy...

If I were a boy
Even just for a day
I’d roll outta bed in the morning
And throw on what I wanted then go
Drink beer with the guys
And chase after girls
I’d kick it with who I wanted
And I’d never get confronted for it.
Cause they’d stick up for me.

[Chorus]
If I were a boy
I think I could understand
How it feels to love a girl
I swear I’d be a better man.
I’d listen to her
Cause I know how it hurts
When you lose the one you wanted
Cause he’s taken you for granted
And everything you had got destroyed


[Verse]
If I were a boy
I would turn off my phone
Tell everyone it’s broken
So they’d think that I was sleepin’ alone
I’d put myself first
And make the rules as I go
Cause I know that she’d be faithful
Waitin’ for me to come home (to come home)

If I were a boy
I think I could understand
How it feels to love a girl
I swear I’d be a better man.
I’d listen to her
Cause I know how it hurts
When you lose the one you wanted (wanted)
Cause he’s taken you for granted (granted)
And everything you had got destroyed

It’s a little too late for you to come back
Say its just a mistake
Think I’d forgive you like that
If you thought I would wait for you
You thought wrong

You know when you act like that
I don't think you realize how it makes me look
or feel

Act like what
Why are you so jealous
It's not like I'm sleeping with the guy

What

What

I said yo
Why are you so jealous
It aint like I'm sleepin with the girl

But you’re just a boy
You don’t understand
Yeah you don’t understand
How it feels to love a girl someday
You wish you were a better man
You don’t listen to her
You don’t care how it hurts
Until you lose the one you wanted
Cause you’ve taken her for granted
And everything you have got destroyed
But you’re just a boy

Lyrics by Beyonce Knowles

Just Quietly...

Little Son has Chicken Pox and couldn't go to his Custody Date to the park with Dad...

I would have told Hubby that; had he not hung up on Me twelve seconds into the conversation.

He eventually rang back about the dog's medicine...

Me: I need Worming tablets. And something for the fleas. And dog food would be nice.

(NB He has only been providing two cans of dog food and a small bag of dog biscuits per fortnight but is happily ensconcing it at home with his Mother's tit in his mouth. As it always has been.)

He shouted at me that I should be able to provide for the dog ("Look after it Yourself you Dumb Bitch) and hung up; before I had the chance to tell him Little Son had stayed home from school for the day with a fever.

It spiked about seven last night. Little Son told me he was Drifting; even though he'd been asleep half of the day at Grandma's while I had been at work. I got him a flannel and told him to watch out for angry red rashes. Just in case it's Menningoccal disease.

In the morning he complained of a Rice Bubble. The Pox. I called the school.

I saw Damon at he Pub in the afternoon; he was playing darts with FiFi and Matty. Kicking their collective arses. They were playing 301 but he was playing down from 501 and still beating them easily; and they are both fair Players.

I was meant to go back for FiFi's birthday tonight. She's 34 today; a year younger than me. And she knows what's going on. We're going to see Pink in June. I paid for the ticket on my credit card last week...

So Hubby and I had a fight again; about the dog; about how little time he has spent with Little Son; about his fishing trip away last weekend. He has the hide to tell me that I've been fucking up. I tell him what I do is None of His business. He glares at me. I give him the Bird. He fucks off.

Half an hour later I walk down the street to buy Little Son and me our dinner. Hubby's at the Pub; with Twink. I haven't been able to go to the bank this morning because Twink hadn't sent in a form to Social Security informing them of mine and Hubby's separation. They have suspended my payments until Friday; it's sorted now but still a massive pain in the arse. All of my Direct Debits that aren't honoured in the next few days will incur me bank fees. This. I do Not need.

But anyway...

I get home with my groceries, wine, child and illegitimate dog. I call my friend Chrissy to discuss the weekend. In the meanwhile I get a text.

Hubby: I hate you. You are a liar and a mental slut.

Me: Does that mean I Think...as well as fuck?

(NB This appealed to my inner Descartes...he, however, missed the Proverbial Boat when it comes to Innuendo or Suggestion of Thoghut; YES; I mean to write Thoghut. Apparently I'm as fucked up as the word is.)

Hubby: You are as ugly on the inside as you are on the outside. You don't think and you are a shit fuck. I hope you die alone.

Me: I'm Cerebral. Not Palsied. Tell that to all your Pre-school buddies.

(NB I know this last dig would have hurt...his Mother is a Speech pathologist with DOCS and used to work at a preschool where Hubby was the only child enrolled who wasn't (supposedly) mentally or physically handicapped. Me referring to that Should have shut him up).

Hubby: You're the biggest Fuck-up I ever met.

I turned off my phone after this.

I hate him. It's done.

And just Quietly ???

I can't wait to see my One-Night-Stand.

For the Fifth time.

One Miserable Sad Fuck...

I could stir my Vodka with a fucking pen.

Write. Now...

Up your arse, Vinegar Cum. You're angry. At last.

Because it was Me who finally Ended it. Again. For fucking Good.

Dumbfuck. Who do think you are?

You hope I'll "Die Alone?"

My guess is that it'll be You who is the Sad-neurotic-hospital-fearing-arsehole who dies alone.

Like the Miserable Sad Fuck. That you are.

Not me.

Keep the Fuck out of My yard.

You scare me, Cunt.

Here's To Repugnance (And One Last Memory)...

So...

I'm no longer wearing his shirt to bed.

But...

I may as well have forgiven him for defiling me on My lounge room floor. I fucked him one more time so that the last memory I had of eighteen years together wasn't one of Repugnance. Having sex with him that night made me vomit on more then one occasion.

Two days later he told me he had only stayed the night because I was sad and sick.

So The next night I fucked Damon.

Yes; I was. Sad and Sick. Am. But I know in my heart I only went through with it so I could have One Last Memory without being fucked up by him. Up the arse. With pain. As close to love as he can come.

It's Gone, People.

We are still apart. It's been almost a month since We've spoken. Except where it concerns Little Son. Or the Dog and his worm tablets. A Gas bill.

I don't miss him. Except at night.

And of late I've had Someone Else to take away his thoughts...

I'll call him Damon; because that's his Real Name. Not that anyone calls him that. Except maybe his Wife (they are divorced). And six kids. He is 44. That's 9 years older than Me, People. For those of You playing along at home. Not that is so much of concern. My major issue is that I like him too much already. I've drunk him up like a Mai-Thai. And it's not enough. I'm scared of scaring this one away. So quick. He likes me for now; but for how long will that last until he discovers I'm a Nut-Job?

Hubby (Ex) has been giving him (Damon) Filthy Looks at the Pub. It's not common knowledge we are fucking but the hickey on my neck gave it away a few weeks ago. Both Bowesy and Jazz saw it. And Hubby knows, too. I had Damon stay over on a school night last week and both the kids have met him now. It didn't impress the Ex-Mother-in-Law when she found out I had another Man in her son's bed. Only five weeks after he'd gone.

Shit happens.

My Mother told me yesterday to give Myself six months to get over Hubby before I started fucking somebody else...

I'm ready.

Now.