A strange kind of life

A strange kind of life

Things got really settled for me quite quickly.

Even though never in a million years would I think that I would have been standing next to a man like the one that chose me.

He was a hard worker and self motivated. But with a more quiet kind of confidence about him. An amusing, quick wittedness about him and a retort/quip/comeback to everything.

He was a smart man who had his own set of confidence issues which were more to do with his sport and competing instead of toward his daily life. He was a top level competitor. One of the best in his field.

And in his work life he was talented beyond belief. I got to watch him work a lot as more and more I found myself accommodating his work time and our hang out time as being the same thing. Particularly in the evenings when he would have to drop everything for a work call. I would go with him just to squeeze a few more hours out of our together day.

And after a few months I resigned from my job. It wasn’t the job that had been advertised to me. I was supposed to be store manager but the assistant manager who thought he would have been moving up to that role so at the dummy. So to placate him they made us both managers of a tiny store. And life was getting more and more awkward as he hated having to report to someone. Toxic workplaces are always shitty so I got our while the going was good.

And I got out thinking I’d find another job really quickly. I was highly skilled and motivated as well as attractive and qualified in IT. Networking engineering and solutions. Web design, infrastructure. Even physical machine builds. And I was excellent at customer service. But even then I was struggling for the first time and I was struggling to pay my rent on time. So I debated moving back to Mums and he invited me instead to come and live with him. We had been going out three months. It was as good a time as ever right?

I moved in. Packed everything I had. Sold my bed and some bits and pieces and scaled right back on life as his place. I couldn’t call much more than a shack…. over a garage. With wonky floors and windows. Two rooms. An outdoor shower – in our cold winters I can tell you that was an adventure!!! The kitchen and lounge were one room. Bedroom another. The lounge was also his work office that he shared with his Dad.

Oh boy. I don’t even know how to describe it but it became home for about a decade.

We went through some (more for me really) rough moments there. With a few of the women he has been dangling carrots for and never following through with. Some of these women wouldn’t leave him alone and I put my door down after a few months. No more visits unless these girls were prepared to come to our house and meet me. Which went down like a lead balloon. But I was firm on this one. And I wasn’t going to give in. So most of them slowly drifted away, thankfully. The odd one would call from time to time to catch up and they would vanish again quickly when he would tell them we were still together.

All but one. I shall call her J. An early childhood teacher who was besotted and acted entirely pathetic when it came to D. Or Mr Longterm.

She would bring her car into work to be worked on and I would be asked to find somewhere else to be those days and I would fume. Until one day I said nope. Not happening. This is my house too and if she ever wants to bring her car back then she needs to show me some respect. Or she could go elsewhere. And whoooooooooo boy didn’t that open up a can of worms. Because of course she refused to come up and meet me and swiftly left saying she would come back and pick it up when it was done.

So pickup time rolled around and again I told my partner if he ever wanted to work on her car again he’s best being her up to meet me. Otherwise she was going to have to go elsewhere. And she again left a few minutes later. By which time I was furious. But she drove to the end of the street. Called my partner on the phone and desperately begged him to meet her down there and this man actually walked away from his upset and hurt partner to talk to someone he called ‘just a fuck buddy bub’

I packed my bags that day. And when he came back I wasn’t interested in speaking to him while I collected my things, no matter what he had to say and it was when I went leave he physically stopped me by blocking my exit and begged me not to leave as he had done what I’d suggested and told her she had offended me so much and been trying to be so sneaky that I wasn’t going to have anything to do with her and that if he had any respect for me, or us, then he would cut her loose.
A little mean, but I felt so solidly that if she truly cared for him as a friend (like I do with my male friends) then she wouldn’t have a problem coming to meet me. She wouldn’t have any issue with coming round for coffee. Hanging out with us. Being a part of both our lives.
But this whole, refusing to set foot in the house if I was there? Asking him to only see her when I wasn’t around? Nope.
That’s not how I roll.
It’s either all out in the open, and honest. Or it’s not happening. And I felt that it was his place to decide whether he really wanted her as a friend, and to ask her to be involved in our lives, or he could choose to go and be with her. Either way wasn’t a fun decision for the poor guy, but I don’t like secrets. And I don’t trust people who want couples to keep secrets from each other. It builds distrust, and I already had enough of that going on!
He was adamant he didn’t want me to leave though. So I guess at least that was a priority for him….

She, like the others, disappeared after that. I think once he realised I was serious about his ‘girls’ either accepting me and learning to enjoy both of our company, then they needed to be history.
We had so many friends, as I said to him one night when we were talking about them, that he could pick and choose who he wanted in his life, so he needed to make the hard decisions about which people were important and weren’t. Which he could live without and which he couldn’t. And most importantly, which were going to be the ones he could trust to support his relationship goals, and which were just going to work to tear them down.
I know my preference is for friends who will support you, even through your dumb decisions. Who will help you climb out of your mistakes and learn and grow from them. Not the friends who would drag you deeper into the mire and lose you in the darkness.
And he made a lot of dumb decisions over the years.
So it was easy to see who was really there for him and who stuck it out through all the rubbish and was still there to see all the good.

I know now, looking back, he’s glad he made the choice he did, even if it was a choice he didn’t want to make. Because he didn’t want to hurt any of them.
He has a good heart through it all.
And a cute ass.