Dashing my hopes and dreams...

Wow.
I'm working...Late...Day 4 into the three weeks with no days off stint. I love my job. Not because of my employees, though I have two that make it kind of worthwhile. Not because I can yell at people and write people up for random shit because I don't like thier attitudes. I like my job because of the people! I love hearing thier stories. I like it when they are happy and I like it when they are complete assholes.

I was talking to a guest earlier. She's 61. A nice looking woman for 61. She had come into Tulsa because she was meeting up with her high school sweetheart. He was flying to Tulsa from Pheonix to come stay with her for Christmas. She hadn't seen him in 38 years and she was nervous. She told me that they had been together for almost 7 years and she finally married someone else...She told him, "Well, you wouldn't marry me!!!" She said he's the only one who's given her butterflies all this time.

I had high hopes for her meeting. I wanted him to be like Jake Lalane...All old and buff and rich! The story was so romantic and it seemed that a story like that meant that maybe Marcus and I had some hope afterall...

Well, when she meets the guy for the first time after all those years, he's old. Much older than his sixty years. He has a cane and seemed to be in the early stages of Parkinson's. (This isn't to say he's not still a great guy, but I am superficial and shallow.) Poor thing. She said, "He needs a lot of work and he's sick.."

Damnit. Does this mean that when Marcus finally comes to his senses, he'll be old and shaky? Living on SSI? I don't think I can wait that damn long and if I did, I don't think I would want to deal with that!

We're arguing right now...More like, I am pissed and he finds it comical. He always laughs when I am pissed. I curse like a sailor and say things that are completely irrational. I have a habit of saying things I don't mean, too. But, damnit...I'm tired of it! I'm tired of waiting on him to make up his mind. I'm tired of only being able to talk to him between 5 and 5:40 every night...Or only being able to talk to him on his way home from work. I'm hot, damnit. I've got a great ass and great boobs and I'm pretty! I'm my own person. I pay my bills and handle my "bidness" like a woman. Why the fuck am I chasing my damn tail waiting on this asshole? I keep trying to convince myself that I hate him and I never want to see him again, but who am I kidding? I can't go longer than 24 hours without hearing his voice, so how am I expected to cut him off completely? Everyone who knows him and knows me seems to think that he does love me and that he is protecting me from himself, but why does it all feel like a sick, sad excuse?

I keep telling myself that if I do this or that, then eventually, he'll see that I love him beyond reason. I know that if he did come back, he would cheat on me and lie...He knows that and that is his excuse. So why am I feeling like I would be content with that?

Ugh...Done for now. Just bitching.