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  • The tepid relationship that is Kat and Duke

    October 15, 2008

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    I sat on the couch nursing my knee which was the latest victim of Scout’s jumping-on-mommy game that almost popped some stitches. After a series of cuss words and angry gesticulations, my dog still looked at me like “oh come on Ma, you can never be mad at me“.

    When Duke came back from work, I was still fuming and bleeding with band aids, tape, and gauze strewn around me.

    “Did the dog hurt you?” he asked.

    I nodded helplessly. Scout ran up to him stood on her hind legs in greeting. He furrowed his brow and his lips curled back into a snarl. “Bad dog!” he growled. Scout whimpered off into the corner, ears down, tail between her legs.

    Duke took a seat on the floor. He pulled off the band aids, peeled off the dressings and ran a disinfecting wipe around my knee. I stared at him, his tall frame bent over my swollen knee. I reached out and stroked his hair and a smile inched onto his lips. He tightly wrapped the ace bandage around my leg before going to the refrigerator to get the ice pack which he placed over my stitches. Next, he placed a blanket over me, knowing that ice pack always gave me the shivers.

    He brought me a cup of warm tea before sitting beside me and letting me use his shoulder as a pillow. He placed a gentle kiss on my head and smiled “Bandage changing unicorn came to the rescue, huh?

    If I do not love him now, I think that I will definitely love him later, but I still cast a cynical eye on any man I commit myself to. I should not fear that whatever I have with Duke will go the same way things went with my X-husband but for some reason, I still carry baggage with X-husband’s name written all over it. It’s filled with distrust, anger, betrayal all tied together with the bitterness of being taken for granted with the lingering aroma of Regret (by Calvin Klein). 

    I think I love Duke. I would love to hold his hand, to kiss his lips, to share his bed. But no matter where I go or who I’m with, the baggage follows close behind me. I trust Duke completely because he is my friend, but would I trust him as a lover? Am I even capable of trusting any lover at all? I know it’s unfair to make him pay for my X-husband’s folly, but I am still hurt, still raw, still bruised. 

    I’m not ready.

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    Categories: Uncategorized | | 5 Comments »
  • Why I hate men- a Cowboy/X-husband escapade

    July 24, 2008

    Cowboy is half Irish-half German mutt. What does that mean? The guy likes to knock back his whiskey. The pride of his collection happens to be an imported bottle of Vat 69. It is only broken out for special occasions and only shared with a select group of people… it’s so select that not even I have taken a sip of it (not being a whiskey girl, I wasn’t too offended. I’m more a Tequila kind of chick).

    However, Cowboy’s discrimination when it comes to the sharing of his holy Vat 69 has suddenly become a problem for me, not only because of how close I consider the two of us to be, but because that x-husband of mine who Cowboy has met a grand total of twice (both times were when things were really bad between us and Divorce first loomed on the horizon) has partook of precious Vat 69.

    Vat 69 is probably most known to Americans as the favorite drink of Lewis Nixon from the book and mini-series Band of Brothers- a World War II Epic about the 101st Airborne’s E Company (or “Easy” Company). Having that historic reference, an affinity for strong burning liquor, no wonder it’s Cowboy’s favorite.

    The other night, during a BBQ (Beer-BQ), Cowboy excitedly made a comment about how in November, all his buddies from Iraq were coming home; He named off two buddies from his childhood, another friend from his unit and (you’ve probably guessed it…) my x-husband. My X-husband is apparently held so dear to Cowboy’s heart that when the X comes home, he will be asking me for his cell number so that the two of them can go out drinking. Yup, he wants the two of them to go polish of that bottle of Vat 69.

    My closest friend in Kansas wants to go out drinking with the guy I am trying erase from my life. Great! I can be adult about this (I think) and I’m certainly not the type of girl who will get jealous, or feel the need to get all my friends to rally into the X-husband Hating Club.

    … but damnit! This is a step too far! I am ridiculously pissed! I don’t want these two men drinking together! I especially don’t want them talking about me. Lord knows what the hell Cowboy knows about me that I’d rather my X not know.

    This would never have happened if Cowboy was a female friend instead of a male friend… I need more girlfriends, because apparently the solidarity of the dumb stick (penis) is too strong too strong for a girl to penetrate (what is that phrase… “Bro’s before Ho’s”?) Is this fucking ridiculous or what?

    I hate men.
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    Categories: Women | | 12 Comments »