I was just instant messaging with The German:
Caterpillar: I think [name deleted] might be pregnant!
Caterpillar: she said she's not drinking alcohol right now
Caterpillar: and I sent back an email asking if she was pregnant and in her response she didn't deny it!
Caterpillar: I'll be so excited for her if she is! But at the same time feel bad because it's never going to happen for me. I'm going to have to end up getting artifically inseminated
The German: What the hell are you talking about???
Caterpillar: I'm 29 and have no prospects! And I don't want to have a baby when I'm 40!
The German: Well, if all else fails Captain Schwein [I call him the schwein or kampfschwein] will help out (but not to raise the brats)
The German: He'll be far away
Caterpillar: of course, I've already thought of that. You would be my first choice of sperm donor
The German: [face with hearts coming out of it]
Caterpillar: since you have brains and the dark skin and are good looking
The German: But, seriously, don't be silly. You will find somebody, or somebody will find you
Caterpillar: well I hope so, but he better get his ass in gear finding me. All my friends are starting to have babies and it's making me feel bad
The German: Well, your friends just settled for whoever they were with. You have higher standards. And you should!
Caterpillar: I know. But actually, all of them are really happy and are all completely in love, and have great marriages that I'd like to emulate
The German: Thanks by the way about you thinking of the schwein as donor. Of course, I know your first choices will be the Meat and Queen, together. So their mixed [deleted] juice is double potent
Caterpillar: oh you are so nasty!
The German: Moi???
The German: [innocent face]
Caterpillar: yes, toi! I can just see it now, if I used your sperm, my little boy or girl would be trying to watch porn at age 2!
Caterpillar: By the way, I definitely didn't get the [job I wanted]. The lawyer who is a regular here and who called and recommended me because he knew [name deleted] just stopped in to deliver a courtesy copy and he didn't make eye contact with me. Before he'd always stop by and ask if I'd heard anything.
Caterpillar: he must not know what to say
The German: ohhh. I'm sorry tigress! But you have some better prospects already!
Caterpillar: like what?
Rocco?
Caterpillar: I don't think so
The German: [silly face]
The German: You knew it!
Caterpillar: yes, I know your mind
The German: Well, don't make assumptions yet. Wait what [Tivo] says
Caterpillar: I will, but I'm pretty certain. It's Friday, and last week she was told that someone would most likely be hired this week
The German: Well call her if you want and see what she says. Tell her that you prefer to know anything, even if it's bad
The German: Maybe they still didn't hire anybody. And the lawyer just doesn't know anything...
The German: I must go. Maybe we speak later, Tigress
The German: [Kissy face and a hugging face]
Caterpillar: [Kissy face]
The German: bye until later, silly one
The end. I swear, he is the guy I will never completely get over. Notice that while he tells me he wouldn't help raise the child, he still sends kissy faces and makes me feel so special.
On Tuesday, instead of going to the Wiener Circle, we went to Chili Mac's for hot dogs and the best margaritas ever. We chatted the whole way and were having a great time. When we were almost there, in the context of another story, he mentioned a friend (girl) who came to his place a few months ago and a guy who worked there asked about her later. Me: "Who was she?" He: "Just a friend." Me: "Are you dating her? Did you hook up with her? Do you see her regularly?" (can you hear the jealousy in my voice?). He: "Tigress, she's just a friend, I don't even think I've seen her since then, and she hasn't come over since, and only that one time. You have nothing to worry about."
We had a very fun little dinner and margarita-drinking session. This place makes huge margaritas that are just perfect in every way! He's not a big drinker, so we just have one margarita each every time we go. I told him I didn't think I was going to get the job I want, and he said I have a backup in Rocco - the director, writer, and star of his own porn films. He does make some of the best porn I've seen! And he always uses random girls, never porn stars. So our joke has always been that I can get nasty with Rocco on film if all else fails. Hence, my comment about it in our instant messaging above.
On the walk home, he mentioned that when his lease expires this October, he's going to move. He'll have been living in the Hancock for two years, on the 61st floor, looking north all along Lake Shore Drive, Lincoln Park, the beach, and Lake Michigan. It's a fabulous view, but not a great area. It's all tourists along Michigan Ave or big shoppers, and the majority of the residents in the area are over age 60. He said he'd like to live somewhere different and unique, like Lincoln Square, St. Ben's area, or maybe even Logan Square. I was immediately feeling hurt. The whole subject just raised bad feelings for me. I said, "whereever you move, you better make sure I can get there easily!"
A little background. Okay, the whole story. We were living in the same apartment building, on the same floor. It was how we met. We'd both moved in almost four years prior, but only met that final year, in March 2003. We were both leaving in the morning a couple times, and we walked together to the bus stop (we each went opposite ways after that). I thought he was weird. He walked too fast, he talked too fast, he seemed just odd. Sometime after that, I heard a knock on my door and I peeked through the peekhole and saw him standing there, with a bottle of wine. My place was disgusting and I hadn't showered nor dressed the whole day, and was just nasty. So I didn't answer. However, a few days later I was quite drunk and knocked on his door. He invited me right in and got me a beer, and we talked, and he put a movie on. All this is foggy for me. He told me later that I suddenly attacked him, and we hooked up nicely. The next morning I woke up completely groggy and we hooked up again. And then he cooked me breakfast and we talked more and he told me how interesting I was and how unlike the normal American. (Have I mentioned that he's German!)
I still thought he was very odd. A couple days later, he put a postcard under my door on which he said he'd like to see me and he'd be at the coffee house for the next couple hours, if I wanted to meet him. I didn't. I wasn't sure about this very weird man. But I did leave a message on his machine to tell him why I didn't go there. I think it was that afternoon that he called me and said he had something for me. I again hadn't showered and was all greasy and gross, and I told him so. He said he'd gotten me flowers and he'd leave them outside my door, and promised not to be peeking when I opened my door. I called him after that and thanked him, and we chatted a little.
I think it was at this time that I was given two free tickets to a Bulls game, and great seats. I invited him, because I couldn't think of anyone else to invite. He accepted (which is a heartwarming thing for me, because I now know that he despises sports and never watches sports, goes to games, or has any interest, and is quite stubborn about keeping it that way). He brought his camera and was taking pictures all over the place. And he bought us beer and hot dogs. He was just very odd, but I couldn't place my finger on what was odd about him. He was very, I don't know, quick or something. He'd suddenly say, "shall we go buy beer?" and we'd go. Or "I'll make (yes, he's from Germany) a picture of that," and then try forever to get a perfect picture of it. But we had fun, even though I was still very much not sure of him.
After that he called me after work each day for a few days and had me come over for dinner. He'd whip up something wonderful, while we listened to some cool and very different music - nothing even remotely popular. And we'd watch some very good movies. And mostly talk about things. About the world, about politics, about American politicians, about travel...he was so knowledgeable about so many things, and I was becoming so intrigued by that.
Oh yes, the first Friday night dinner, when he made plans with me and cooked a really nice meal and served wine and all that. This was before I was becoming intrigued, and was still unsure, but leaning toward not having a relationship with him. Before I went over, I had decided that I wouldn't hook up with him, and I'd nicely say at the end that I enjoyed the night but I "had to go home now." We ate, and drank some wine, and talked, and talked, and drank some wine, and talked. And then after dinner and after dessert, he put on different music and pulled me up to dance. I was thinking very consciously at the time, "I need to leave now, how do I extricate myself now?" And then we were dancing, and he pressed me close to him, and I felt the little bolt run down my spine to my, how do you say, nether regions. And then he kissed me, and the bolt ran even stronger. And then he laid me down on the futon (he's German, and his place, still, is furnished very, very sparsely!) and went down on me, with mouth, and with fingers in both pussy and ass. I was in heaven and wild. And hot for him.
So anyway, he grew on me slowly. I was seeing him every day, either for dinner or just for a beer later, while watching a movie, or just watching him play his video games (I'm a very giving and good girlfriend! And I actually do enjoy watching guys play video games - of course, the more interesting kinds, like Vice City). Things just grew from there. I bought rollerblades, something so unlike me, and we went to the parking lot so I could learn. He took pictures of me learning and videoed me rollerblading, and put them on the internet for my parents to see. He taught me about digital cameras and putting pictures in online albums for everyone to see. He taught me about downloading music. We saw each other every day. He'd make me breakfast, and make me dinner, and I'd try to help him with dinner. He taught me a lot about cooking. We also watched a lot of great movies together. I've always been a fan of independent and foreign films. We watched some that I'd never seen. And he also introduced me to some other movies, two that I can think of are
Koyaanisqatsi and
Nagoygatsi, and also to the movies of
Leni Riefenstahl, from her film on the 1936 Olympics in Berlin (I think that was the year) to the gorgeous underwater she films she made while in her 80's and 90's.
Soon we were spending almost every night together, and definitely seeing each other every day. I told him I was thinking of getting two kittens and asked whether he liked kittens. He said he had no problem with them, but I should do as I liked. A couple days later, I adopted my little James and Emma, then just 8 weeks old! He came over that night and took tons of pictures of them, and was generally so good with them. I was so happy! It was summertime and we'd spend each weekend at the pool at the top of our building. We'd take pictures together, swim together, sit next to each other and read books or the paper. We'd go walking to the zoo and look at the tigers and lions (my favorites) and the pigs (his favorites). We'd walk along the lake. We'd walk around the city. He got me out, he went places with me, he loved being with me, he loved my kittens. I was so happy.
I had hardly any real dating experience, as in boyfriend-girlfriend experience, prior to this. In high school, I had a boyfriend for seven months in my junior year. And then in senior year of high school, all through college, and first year of law school, I dated one guy. I broke up with him finally, it was so hard, because although he was my best friend, I just didn't have the loving, romantic feelings any longer. I'd grown away from him. After that I went through a long hard time, looking to guys for affirmation, using sex to feel wanted and needed. I had issues. I liked a couple of guys during this time, but they never were as into me, at least not enough to be boyfriend-girlfriend. In 2002 I met a guy in a bar and he called me. We went out for a date, my first real date. He was an almost politican - he had won the primary (in the burbs) so was guaranteed to win the election because of his party. He just had to wait until November for the elections. He's a state representative now. He also had been a pilot formerly, and was at the time working for his very rich father and a couple other very rich friends, investing their money. I was kind of blown away and loved learning from him. I saw a little, but completely ignored, his shallowness. Looking back, he wasn't the smartest guy. And he liked the idea of power. But he took me to great and expensive restaurants and places I hadn't been before. So it was fun and interesting. And I learned from it. During our seven-month whatever-you'd-call-it, I found out that he wasn't actually divorced like he'd told me on our first date. He was in the process of getting a divorce, but the details weren't all ironed out yet. I found this out by meeting his wife.
I had told The Politician that I wanted to volunteer, and he was the one who pointed me towards my current volunteer organization. I called, and they were having a wine party fundraiser in November, so I signed up and paid to go. The Politician couldn't make it that night. It was fun, and I drank a lot of wine. After the party ended, a bunch of the younger people went to a nearby bar. I was walking with a girl and guy and chatting. When we got there, we kept talking, and I asked where they lived. They said [certain suburb] and I said "my boyfriend lives there!" And they asked his name and I said [The Politician], and the girl said, "That's my husband!" And I said "Holy fucking shit!" - that was my actual direct quote! Then I decided to make sure and quizzed her as to her name and the names of her kids. All matched. Holy fucking shit indeed! She walked away soon after that and her boyfriend was very nice and helped relax me. I called The Politician then, drunk, first in amazement at who I'd met. And then I called again (all of these were messages left) to express my anger that he had lied to me about being divorced! Anyway, things continued lightly, with me seeing him once or twice a week, and thinking that I was his girlfriend and I'd eventually meet his kids and maybe be a step-mom. I even bought a stupid book on being a step-mother. Sometimes I'm amazed by my stupidity. We broke up right before he took office. I realized that I was just his little fling in the city. And he didn't have time anymore, since he had become so cool and was going to Springfield all the time. I was devastated. I can't believe how stupid that was!
Anyway, that was my dating experience prior to The German. So, he was wonderful, he was interesting, he was different, he was foreign, he was so good looking and tall and just naturally muscular, even though he never worked out. And he cuddled with me, and held me, and was so sweet.
I have never been good at the talks, or the confrontations, or anything relating to conflict. So I never talked to him about the future or anything at all. I just went with the happy flow of Us. I should have seen it earlier. First, his previous relationship. He had dated her for four years. Why did they break up? Because he didn't want to move in together and move the relationship forward. He told me, at the beginning, that "he didn't know if he wanted to get married and/or have children." I saw this all as: he didn't want to move in WITH HER, and he didn't want to get married to or have children WITH HER. Now, someone from the outside or with more experience would probably have known early on that there was no real chance for The German and I - me idealistic and in love, him, well, just him. But even as he'd say certain things, like his questioning ever getting married, he'd also be so loving and so affectionate, and a couple times he'd even say little things about "our kids" - yes, so I wasn't completely insane and reading things that weren't there. However, there was one time, in September 2003, when I came back from a weekend at my parent's place, when I told him on my bed, "I love you," and he said "Thank you," and hugged me so close and tight. Oh how I wish I could go back and slap myself!!! Slap myself awake to the truth!!!
So, on the night of December 7, 2003, after we'd spent the day together and decided that I'd meet him in Costa Rica for a week in January, and I'd called my mom and she'd made the plane reservations for me, The German came back over, and buzzed up. I was happy and confused as to why he'd come back. He hugged me and then said, and I will never forget these words, "I come not with good news." My whole world was about to fall apart. He broke my heart that night. He told me that he didn't love me the way that I loved him. That he did love me, but more like a sister. And that I was so important to him. And the best person he'd ever known. And so special to him. But he didn't want to lead me on, or make me waste years of my life on him. My heart was, I'm serious, cracked in half. I hurt all over. I couldn't stop crying, and my whole body just hurt. He held me, and he cried, too. He said he felt the worst he'd ever felt, like a monster, hurting someone like me. He held me for forever. And then he left. I took two days off work. It was awful, I can't even begin to explain. My whole self just hurt, I was lost, I was dying, I was in physical pain. He came over every day after work to hold me and answer more of my hurt questions, and just be there for me. He actually helped me so much, because I only wanted to be with him, even though he was the one who had broken my heart. For a week we spent a lot of time together, much with me crying and with him being so good to me. He bought me a wonderful pair of work pants that weekend for my Christmas present. And the next day he left for his four week vacation in Nicaragua and Panama.
On his vacation, he emailed me regularly, usually every other day. He was so sweet. I have all his emails. I have a [The German] file in my file cabinet with those emails and the emails he sent me in the days just after breaking up with me. I also have a few of our instant message conversations saved; most recently, the conversation today. Anyway, he was very good to me, with emailing me. And he had promised me that he wouldn't hook up with anyone on vacation. Which I know he kept. By the way, his main reason with breaking up with me was that he is just not someone who ever wants to get married or have children. He wants to just be alone and sort of float through life. And he really is weird. He's one of those few people who somehow just don't have normal human emotions. He doesn't develop the normal human feelings, deep feelings, with anyone. And doesn't need anyone. He's perfectly happy doing everything by himself. He dreams of getting a sailboat in a few years and just sailing by himself all over. And occasionally doing charters where he takes a few people. This doesn't sound lonely to him. He's odd.
However, I can't seem to ever get really over him. First, I have to talk about the hookups. I am weak. I'm one of those girls who dreams about being controlled (only sexually!) and wanted and pushed against a wall with the words "I have to have you!" So I can't tell you the number of times after we broke up that he would do the oral and double fingering all at once to get me off. And I'd give him what he calls "the seriously best blow in the world." It wouldn't happen all the time, just maybe every month at first, and once every two months, and then longer in between. I started being able to tell when he was horny. Oh yes, and he'd always lift my shirt and grab my boobs and give one his great nipple sucks, with just a little bit of a bite at the end, so the nips would be so standing at attention. That was all the time. We also started the very exciting fun of taking public naked boob pictures! First, at a restaurant - The Bagel - we were in the last booth and he was all ready, and when I didn't think someone would come out of the bathroom, I did a fun lift of the shirt and smile! We did it three times and got fabulous pictures! After that, we've had pictures in the park and many more. I get off on the risk and the excitement!!!!
The last time we had sex was my birthday a year ago, on July 31, 2004. We had made our own margaritas, which are lethal, and sat by the pool upstairs. And then came downstairs, and he was giving me birthday pleasure, and I then pulled his bathing suit off and mounted him. It was so amazing. We went to a hungover dinner that night and it was so nice. Only I didn't feel so good when he dropped me off at home afterward and went to his own home. But it was always that way. I usually felt sad when he left. At that time.
Slowly, he began hooking up with me less and less. He always felt bad in a way, I could tell. Sometimes I felt bad because I felt lost and like he had lost interest and become distant. I asked him a couple of times, and he said I needed to get over him, and I couldn't when I was hooking up with him. But he still would hook up with me every once in awhile. No sex. Just fingering and oral.
Eventually, late last year, whenever he'd orally and manually put me in heaven, he'd not let me afterward give him a blow. It was always that way. He'd say, "this is just about you." It was very odd. He'd get me off - licking and sucking my clit while fingering me on my g-spot and also eventually in my ass. But he'd not let me do a thing to him. I talked to two of my friends about it many times, and they thought it was equally as odd.
Then he stopped everything. Mostly. I can tell when he's extraordinarily horny and not going to be able to stop. I should have been happy about him not doing stuff to me all the time, so I could get over him a little. And honestly, it has been good. We've moved to mostly being friends, in a way. For the longest time, there was nothing sexual going on. Although every time we see each other, he always lays down on the couch so I can lay with him and we can cuddle. Why does he do this??? If he likes it so much, why doesn't he want to be with me? Or have the desire to someday be with someone? Although that would kill me. He still always says that I'm the perfect girl, and he is so lucky to have me in his life, and there could never be anyone more perfect than me. Of course, as I've said, the big part of the reason that he broke up with me is that he never saw us getting married - and he never saw himself ever getting married. Or ever having children. So, one reason why I'm so jealous whenever he mentions another girl is that if he ever did start dating another girl, his whole reasoning to me would go out the window, and it wouldn't be just him anymore who was odd, but it would be that he was just wasn't that into me. And it would kill me.
For a long time now, we hadn't hooked up at all. And in the past few months, we haven't seen each other regularly once a weekend, as we had before. I am both hurt, and also knowing that it's for the best. We still instant message regularly, but mostly it's just silly stuff with him telling me my kittens are ridiculous so I get worked up. He now calls James "Karl Rick Rumsbolton" - yes, for Karl Rove, Rick
Santorum, Rumsfeld, and of course, the ultimate UN lover, Bolton. And he calls Emma "Jessica Void Robertson" - the 'Jessica void' after Jessica Simpson and how uneducated and, to be blunt, stupid, she sounds most of the time. And of course the Robertson after the Supreme Court nominee. He is a very silly person.
I have to admit now that on my birthday we hooked up. He called me the day before to see when I wanted to go out, but I didn't talk to him until that morning. He took me to brunch at my favorite breakfast place - Tweet - and then we walked for a bit to digest and then got a bus. Then we came back here. He went and laid in my bed, and 'because of all the cat hair' he took off his shirt and pants and got under the covers. I laid down on top of the covers, and we cuddled. Then he tickled me and I reared up, trying to get him to stop. He unzipped my little jacket and grabbed one of my nipples with his mouth. He sucked amazingly as he always does, softly and yet with force, and slowly let it slide out of his mouth while sucking harder as it left, so I end with a fully erect nipple. He then grabbed the other nipple in his mouth and gave it the same royal treatment. He went back and forth between my two breasts, and by this time we had discarded the zip-up top. And I was so turned on having him suck my nipples that way. And then he grabbed my ass while I leaned over him. I was so wet. And the little bolts were going down my spine to my wetness. I wanted him so badly to touch me, but I thought I would never feel that, because he hadn't touched me in so long.
He then lifted me up and I laid down on my back. He grabbed my boobs with both hands and got handfuls, and squeezed. I reared a little. He then unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down, and the same with my panties. Once they were off, his finger went directly to my clit. I was so turned on, I don't think you could have any idea. Every movement on my clit was like heaven. He worked me and then stopped, and then worked me and stopped, and then again, and then worked me while fingering me. He's so good. And so turns me on. I don't much like kissing him, unfortunately, because his lips are so dry that's it's nasty. But everything else. He just seems to know what turns me on, and where to rub and where to touch.
The surprising thing during all this was that while he pleasured me, he actually let me grab him while he was working, and let me masturbate him, and after he got me off, he let me blow him, and oh my gosh did he come good! I can't remember exactly how long it's been since he's let me blow him. He was almost yelling during it. I was given excellent instruction when I was very young. And the funny thing is that when I watch the porn stars, I do exactly as they do! I was trained in the technique one night when I was 16 or 17. The guy told me exactly what to do with my tongue, exactly how to move my hands and where to press, and exactly what to do with my mouth. His teaching has proved to be right on! Okay, I digress
With regard to The German moving - as you know, he lived in my building, and I was in love. He had always been unhappy with the management of our building. In August of 2003, he went looking at apartments in the Hancock. Although I think part of it is just so he can say he lived there. Anyway, he hadn't really talked to me straight about it, but one day just emailed me that he'd be home late cause he was looking at apartments. He was moving away from me! And he did. However, before he did, my parents were coming to town. He was happy to meet them and spent almost the entire weekend with us. We were a couple throughout. And I was so happy. The last night, I told them that The German had signed a lease to move into the Hancock. My mom said she knew from then that it was over. I still didn't know, even though I cried plenty over him being not on the same hall as me. He tried to make me feel all better and said this move wouldn't affect anything. It didn't for awhile, but it wasn't like I could go home and be with my babies and then walk down the hall to eat dinner with him.
So, I come back to my original story. The German, on our walk home from Chili Mac's, told me he'd be moving after October. And he mentioned a few areas. After I had signed my lease for my current apartment, he told me that he'd hoped I would have moved somewhere more unique and different that we could explore. Just with him talking about moving it hurts, because it reminds me that it's all about him. There is nothing of me in there. And I should realize and accept it.
I'm going to clarify things a little. I'm not always crazy for him. Sometimes I even get really annoyed with him and the way he is and his stubbornness while we're talking about various things. And I'm no longer sad when leaves after visiting, although the way he hugs me and gives me a kiss feels so nice. I don't regularly think of him, and I know, in the 100% kind of way, that we will never be together. I am fully able to get excited about other guys, as I have written about here, and with no thought as to him. And I don't even compare other guys to him anymore. But I just get so jealous at even the mention of another girl and the idea that he might have a relationship. Because then the reason that he left me wouldn't be about a problem with HIM, but that he just wasn't into ME as a future.
However, in the year and a half, going on two years, since he broke my heart, I have gotten better and better and better, just slowly. So, there's still hope! That eventually I'll be completely over him! Then again, maybe I am 95% over him right now, but it's just the jealousy that hangs on. And that will probably never leave. I mean, I have issues with jealousy. So, I think I'll always be jealous, no matter what. And with that said, I do think that I'm 95% over him! And the extra 5% is just a little hang-on. Because of how sweet he can be and how he still tells me I'm the best and sweetest girl in the world.
Well anyway, that's the end. Of the LONG story of The German! I'll still want him to be the sperm donor though, just in case I never find a guy and have to have a baby on my own!
