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Booking It!

The Exit 4A book is finished and is now in its first round of edits with my publisher. It’s an exciting time! Exit 4A is a thinly fictionalized account of my 26-year (off-and-on) affair with a rich narcissist. I say “thinly fictionalized” because I know B., his ex-wife, his nutty children, […]

Unfathomable.

Two years past our break-up, I still don’t get it. Who sends a steak back to a restaurant’s kitchen hoping it returns overdone? Who kicks Charlize Theron out of bed? Who sells a Picasso because it didn’t quite match the living room sofa? You’d have to be insane, really. So B. […]

How Does Your Garden Grow?

The summer of 2012 was the third-hottest summer and one of the driest on record in the US. Probably not the best time to plan or plant a new garden, especially one that wouldn’t be tended much. B. occasionally visited his SW Michigan cabin, but wouldn’t move in full-time until […]

Our Bitchin’ Beach Bench

Gillson Park Dog Beach I’m sure Ms. Goldblatt would blush if she knew what B. and I did on “her” bench. One autumn night several years ago I drove the 30-odd miles from my home to a beach less than a half-mile from B.’s. “I need to decompress,” he told […]

He Loves Me. He Loves Me…Not?

An affair that spanned 26 years (off-and-on). And when it was on, he just could never bring himself to say those three little words.  Instead, it was couched in words like these…on Valentine’s Day, seven years ago: Is this just bad boyfriend behavior? Or someone who really, truly had no love […]

Love In Bloom

Blehart

B. loves daffodils and knew I did, too. In spring he’d occasionally surprise me with a bouquet of daffs, or perhaps a single, cheery bloom. The gesture always thrilled me, endeared me to him.  I made and sent him this electronic Valentine’s Day card not long ago. At least I […]

Erotic Email: Truth Or Dare?

  B.’s email to me dated 12/16/2009, 5:46 am: “In the early morning, I would pull you close, cup your breasts into my hands, slowly run the tips of my fingers across your nipples, nestle my head into your neck, press my cock tight against your ass and blissfully go […]

Divorce á Deux

“One of these things is not like the others/Which of these things just doesn’t belong?” My ex-lover was married in August 1975. B. and spouse had four children together. In August 2009 he moved out, began a lengthy separation. The wife filed the divorce papers last February, effectively ending 38 […]

Toxic Triggers, Pt 8: Su-Su-Subaru

Note: This is Part 8 of an 11-part series of short posts on what triggers memories of ex-lover B., culminating on October 11, 2014, the First Anniversary of when he kissed me goodbye. Literally. His kiss was a kiss-off. I have not seen him since. TRIGGER #8: Subaru Outback White […]

Toxic Triggers, Pt 4: Doggy Style

Note: This is Part 4 of an 11-part series of short posts on what triggers memories of ex-lover B., culminating on October 11, 2014, the First Anniversary of when he kissed me goodbye. Literally. His kiss was a kiss-off. I have not seen him since. TRIGGER #4: Setters B. has […]

Orange Ya Glad It’s Over?

Amazing, the things you remember lovers by… B. had some interesting, even endearing, habits. One was how he’d meticulously peel an orange and eat it. He has done this ever since we first knew each other, back in 1987, at our workplace. We’d eat lunch together (usually amongst co-workers so as […]

Cunt! Bitch! Motherfucker! Prick!

Harsh words, indeed. Words I quite honestly never say, especially that ugly “C” word. It’s so coarse. But on that May morning, in a tiny donut shop in Sawyer, MI, those words spewed from my mouth with vengeance and anger. They seemed apropos. I came face-to-face with B. and his new […]

Classless and Clueless

Straight up now: How would you prefer to end your relationship? Could you handle a face-to-face meeting to break up, or via another method? Anyone remember that “Sex and the City” episode where Berger breaks up with Carrie via a Post-it® note? He sticks the familiar yellow square on her […]

Our Bitchin’ Beach Bench

Gillson Park Dog Beach I’m sure Ms. Goldblatt would blush if she knew what B. and I did on “her” bench. One autumn night several years ago I drove the 30-odd miles from my home to a beach less than a half-mile from B.’s. “I need to decompress,” he told […]