Big boys do cry… A lot

Why hello my Lovely Lovertons!

And as usual, happy hump day! Get those booties bouncing! 😉 I don’t know about you guys, but where I am right now is frigging freezing! I’m sending out countless SOS’s to my ‘special’ friends for some bed warming action but it’s so cold most of them won’t even venture outside their house! Yes Lovers, it’s a sad state of affairs when a guy can’t stir his stumps for a good scouring of the pipes!

So with all this spare time on my hands I’ve gotten very wistful, very reminiscent of ye old times and ye oldier boyfriends. And so it’s time to revisit and hopefully finish off Rick. (For those of you newcomers, read back a few posts and you’ll see exactly who Rick the scoundrel is. Oh and welcome of course!) I know I know we all love hearing about my hilarious stories like when I shit my pants or bounce off the bed whilst attempting a particularly daring move in the boudoir, but occasionally there are times where we can discuss the serious stuff. (Don’t worry I’ll try to do this quick like a band-aid and then we’ll be right back to me accidentally licking someone’s snot up while they kiss me. Urgh)

So, bear with me and we’ll get through this together Lovers!

Alrightey, we left off right after my disastrous birthday party. We’d made up, but his outburst certainly wasn’t forgotten…

After the birthday debacle, Rick was on his best behavior, at least for a while. A pattern started to develop. A pattern I was anything but pleased with. We would go out. We would have fun. And then something of no consequence would happen and Rick would burst into tears. There is nothing more pathetic than seeing a grown man weeping because he can’t find a taxi on a Saturday night.

Suck it up princess

I could never say anything or he’d cry even more. I ended up packing a fifty pack of tissues in my purse every time we went out!  Things were falling apart, and fast. I begged him to stop with the drugs, to try to slow down even, but every time something stressful hit him he was straight back to it. He started to become withdrawn, then angry for no reason and then of course more tears. I could never work out what mood he was in. He would come over for dinner and after a single comment from me about possibly getting a hair cut soon, ( seriously, the dude was starting to look homeless) he would be out the door. I had to chase him down busy highways several times, hanging out my window in the emergency lane like a psyched up golden retriever, pleading him to get in the car, to be sensible. I always got him in the car eventually, (usually by tempting him with pizza) but not before he had broken me down just that little bit more, convinced me once again that I was too harsh, too mean, too judgmental.

I tried to bring back the old times, organizing a fantastic night out for us, only to arrive at his house to find him passed out on the couch, completely comatose. When I tried to wake him up with Macdonald’s and nearly choked him with a french fry I gave up. When I arrived at Bec’s house, mascara running from my sobbing and my beautiful dress, bought just for the occasion, creased and unkempt, I knew I had to do something.

I told him I was unhappy, desperately unhappy and things couldn’t go on as they had been. He told me he would swear off all drugs then and there, and I stupidly believed him. A week later he lost his job after being caught smoking weed in the company truck. I went insane. I screamed and shouted at him. You work with chainsaws for god’s sake! I screeched. He sat, impassive and unmoving as if none of it was really happening. He truly didn’t grasp the enormity of the situation. And at the end of it all, when he did deign to speak, it turned out to be my fault. I had put too much pressure on him, his life had been motoring along fine without me and I had come along and fucked it all up. He had done so much for me and what had I done for him? Nothing apparently. That was it. I couldn’t take it any more. I couldn’t be his excuse for anything else. Summoning strength from a place I didn’t know existed, I got right up in his face and announced it was over.

We were done.

I would not be screwing up his pathetic life for another minute. Something flashed across his face and for a moment I felt truly afraid. He was angry. No, he was furious. He took a step towards me and I hurriedly stepped back. He frowned, his forehead wrinkling and took another step towards me. I stepped back again, and then I was running. I flew through the fly-screen door, my heart pounding, not sure why I was running but knowing I had to get away. I sprinted towards my car, hearing his labored breathing behind me. Fear jolted through me with each step I took. I reached my car and slung my bag around to find my keys, my hand fumbling through the pockets. I slammed into the car door as he smashed into me from behind. He grabbed my arm and ripped me around, pinning me to the car. I will never forget the look in his eyes.

For just that moment I had no idea what he was going to do. Everything was happening in slow motion, and as he raised his hand back I screamed, long and loud. The sound seemed to bring him back to the present and his arm dropped abruptly. His eyes searched mine, and it was as if he had just woken from a dream.

“You’re afraid of me?” he whispered

“Of course I am.”

He took a step backwards, repulsed by me or by his actions, I wasn’t sure which. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing pulse.

“I’m going home.” I said after some time.

He just looked at me, not speaking or moving. I knew I had cut him to the core with what had just happened, but he truly had terrified me and I wanted him to know it. I got in my car slowly, not wanting to bring back that scary Rick I had just seen. Driving away, I saw him sink to his knees in the dirt. I cried all the way home.

Oooh can you feel the emotion Lovers! 😉 I’ll wrap it up for you asap and hopefully by then my cold cold bed will have seen some action.

Claire xx

Pickup line of the week: You have eyes like spanners. When I look at them, my nuts tighten.

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