Taking over me (voices in my head)

 Mischief has disappeared again, which is completely expected because he's at home and not travelling.

The whatsapp chat lays empty (because he's a psychopath obsessed by confidentiality and has set the option that deleted messages older than 7 days). I am trying (and succeeding so far you may say) not to reach out. But what do I get from my succeeding in not reaching out?

Not much honestly

Do I think less about him? I probably do, like 5% less. Not materially lee I would say. Meaning I still think about him a lot.

I am not proud of this and I do not think this is smart. To quote Evanescence, "but who can decide what they dream, and dream I do".

 

I think part of the problem is I now feel again I have "a right to win". Again, I'm not proud of myself, but let me explain.

Over the past few years I never felt beautiful or sexy or anything and would never have imagined a man to be interested in me. Men simply did not see me, and it's funny how sometimes the bigger you become, the more invisible you get.

 

However, I should probably mention that at some point in my late teenage years, I realized I could (at the time) step in any room and if I decided I wanted a specific man, there was a 95% probability I could have him. (Not something I am proud of, unsurprisingly, but this is the honest truth, based on statistical evidence). Unsurprisingly that revelation changed my life because I previously had been invisible (ugly duckling anyone?).

 

Now let's not dwell on my young years, but the reality is that now men see me again. I'm not claiming I could have anyone I wanted (I also do not want anyone really!) but now men SEE me again. I get a lot of compliments both from people I see daily and from people who do not know me, and I have found again self confidence, which in turns generates attention. Which is funny really because hey, I'm still the same person, I still dress every day in jeans, a button down shirt (and a leather jacket now the Indian summer we've had is over) and sneakers. Every single day.

 

And the part of myself I despise most keeps telling me that things would be different if I had had the current looks back in Mountain View and in San Francisco.

 

Which is probably not true because in the (according to the rationale part of me) the reason Mischief does not want to meet me is he is a good man who has a family and does not want to cheat on his wife. But the voices in my head say that no, I was ugly and fat, I'm still ugly and fat, and they would only be sedated by him drooling on me I guess. At least they would be sedated for five minutes.

 

The worst thing in this messy thoughts is that on a lot of awkward situations I am able to understand if my neurodivergence is spiking or if I'm reacting like a "normal" person, but when it comes to anything that is sexual or romantic I really don't know.

 

I just know I should stop obsessing but I cannot seem to move forward. If I let the communications die, I may just start idolizing him into someone that doesn't even exist. Chasing a man is somewhat below my dignity.

 

Song for this post: "Taking over me", Evanescence

San Francisco part II

 "What? no! I mean, it's not that I don't like you, but I didn't have a plan or anything"

I stayed quiet and looked at him

"Why would you ask something like that?"

"Because I don't know your intentions"

"I don't - I - ..." (I am so mean that I smiled, it was good that for once he was the one stammering in a conversation) "I haven't thought about it this way, I just wanted to see you, I think about 24/7.." and then he quieted.

I stood up, took his hand and said "Let's go and walk. I didn't want to make you unease, I was genuinely curios of your motives and am too neurodivergent to figure". He smiled, held my hand and off we went walking. At this point of course he started making fun of me, and we were laughing all the way to the waterside. We got to one of the piers, close to the San Francisco - Oakland bay bridge, that was all alight in the dark, and suddenly we went quiet. I may have shivered (it was getting colder), he got his arm around me and leaned in to kiss me.

I whispered "Mischief you said.." and he backed off, saying "You are right. Let's go back". We walked back to our hotel and went to the bar and got a bottle of white wine and talked until after the bar closed, I think little after midnight. It was surprisingly not awkward, we talked about our spouses, his family, lots of things really. Then he said "I need some sleep ahead of tomorrow meeting" and we went to the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed, he kissed me and this time I could not back-off. He took me to his room and went on kissing me softly. Then suddenly he was backing off, and i said fine but walk me upstairs to my room. Of course he came in and we must have gone on kissing for another hour based on the watch although it seemed like 5 minutes

I have replayed this scene endlessly in my mind and the only way I have come to describe how I felt is: I felt I was sixteen years old again, minus the anxiety.

I said I was going to write the truth, so: at some point I peeled his hands off my ass and placed them on my boobs (braless, like 95% of the times these days - and to be honest, my boobs are my best asset after my hair) and I guess this was crossing an unseen line because he moaned and say "I must go now - call me for breakfast" and left. He texted me a minute later Goodnight (this is how I know it was almost 2 AM).

I think I just stood by the window in the same spot we were together, breathed and watch the bridge for a long moment. Eventually I washed my face, changed into my PJ, drank some water, set the alarm at 5h45AM and went to bed.

I got up that early as I had a videocall for a project at 7AM with an European client, so I did a bit of yoga, showered, washed my hair, braided it, got dressed, started the call, went through it like a champion (allow me this much guys), talked some more to my team in Europe, packed my stuff to be ready to leave later for my flights, and called Mischief who was clearly sleeping. 

I went downstair for breakfast and to my utter horror some of my colleagues were still there. At least I had told one of them that I was staying and meeting a friend! I got a table for two and then went to sit a bit with them while waiting for Mischief, who arrived ten minutes later and then we sat at our table. At least we did not arrive together!!

I was a bit shaky. I ordered yoghurt and granola and almost spit the first spoonful. My inner lower lip was throbbing, and later I realize it looked like a nightmare. I was puzzled, but did not really think much of it, except I was unable to eat anything. We went for a long walk and talked a bit, we even saw a coyote (America is full of wonders). There was a bit of an awkward moment when I slipped my arm in Mischief's and he stepped back saying sorry, I cannot be seen around holding arms, but I shrugged and we went on; Mischief was switching between how we were going to see each other again in the future for sure, and work topics, and then maybe we'll see each other in a year or so (my heart sank). Eventually we went back to the hotel, I got my stuff and started to wonder if he was going to say bye like this as if nothing happened. He walked to to the corner where my Uber was waiting and then hugged me super tight for like three minutes and then kissed me in the middle of the street. Eventually I got into my uber and off to the airport. This was on Thursday early afternoon west coast (night in Europe)

My lip was killing me...

I was dazed and shaky. he kept texting me until I was home in Milan (so basically non stop over the following 20 hours (my connection in Paris was delayed), although I slept a lot on the plane). I could not eat anything until Saturday morning, when luckily I had already scheduled a dentist appointment for a normal check up (I'm doing aligners these days), and then my dentist went on nailing me. She said "This is an allergic reaction, how come you ate something that gave you this and did not end up in ER?"

It suddenly dawned on me that Mischief had had shrimps (I end up into ER if I eat shellfish). I think I blushed a lot and made up some unconvincing story. She gave me a cortisone cream and cut off some tissue and made things better.

And this is it my friends. Mischief texts me and sometimes calls, I have been travelling to Lisbon and Madrid, and am finally back home. He should have called on Sunday night but I was home with husband and asked him not to, as last time I spoke to him my legs were shaking so bad I had to sit for 5 minutes after the call and this even my husband would notice.

Short weight update: I ate too much in Madrid and am now at 66kg (145lbs, or BMI 22.8). 

I'm sorry this post was so long, but I really wanted to spill everything and be done with telling the full story. I do not know where this leaves me, except that I am still fighting for my marriage to work. Mischief is a dream that I will never forget, but such dream lives 10 thousand miles away, and while I'd like to keep dreaming a little longer, I know I'll likely never see him again.

Song for this post: "Don't be so shy" by Imany. Check it out if you don't know it

San Francisco part I

 While I know this is debatable, I need to tell the whole Mischief story, and trust me, I'm doing this for me as it helps me getting in touch with reality. So, here's another portion.

Once I got the news that I did not need to have a massive surgery, I decided that it was time to get some help on the weight loss journey, beyond ChatGPT which is very dear t me, but has its limitations. I went to see a doctor who is very well known, in the hope that he would maybe give me a GLP1. Although he did not, he gave me a diet that I'm actually enjoying, making sure to include lots of things I love and that I find satisfying.

I got there in late March, and I was 71kg (BMI 24.6), and I'll have to go again next Tuesday. 

Work was a bit peculiar in April, I had few projects, all more complex than they were worth, so a bit unsatisfying. I knew I was thinking too much about Mischief but told myself to just drop it, as I was never going to see him again in my life. I was (and still am) training a lot, I have upgraded my routine to include some weights on top of the elliptical machine, and on Thursdays I do HIIT at the park outside my place with a personal trainer and a small group of 4-5 people.

In early April I found out that I was going to San Francisco in the first week of May, and in the chat that Mischief had set up with me and Carlos we had promised to update each other on travels, so I did mention this. Mischief replied immediately "I can arrange plans to meet there". Then he disappeared for a couple weeks which admittedly kind of lowed my spirits. I remember biking to work one morning and telling myself that I had been dreaming, that he certainly had not been giving me the eye, and to move on with my life. I even kind of managed to do so.

I was on the verge of buying my plane tickets without further considerations, when he resurfaced and started texting me outside the chat. As my agenda was super packed from breakfast to dinner from Monday to Wednesday, and I wanted to set up a couple extra meetings on Wednesday afternoon when my main purpose of travel would be over (and my other European colleagues were flying back), he suggested to meet for dinner on Wednesday and I thought this was a good plan allowing me to meet the bankers I wanted to see while there, as there were no convenient flights back on Wed night, I would fly back on Tuesday afternoon. Mischief being Mischief he also set up a few meetings on Thursday (read: he went to see Nvidia guys) and thus the plan was settled.

I had never been to San Francisco, and travelled there with French colleagues, which I love because French is much easier than English for me and they are really two fun guys. Once landed on Monday, we had a couple hours to spare and walked to Pier39 to see the sea lions (that I had never seen in my life and man I loved them!!!!), and the long walk really helped me start the week on the right foot with almost no jet lag. The days flew by and in an eyeblink it was Wednesday afternoon. I wrapped up my meetings, and walked back to the hotel - it was a lovely warm day, and Mischief was texting me about dinner plans, and I wrote him "I've literally spent the last two days seating - can we just walk around a bit and grab something casually? I swear that if you told me let's skip dinner and grab something from a food truck I would be delighted" and he said that sounded great. I showered, looked at the classy, feminine and expensive top I had brought with me for the occasion, and instead I wore a man button down shirt, the usual kind I wear at work these days, with some white linen trousers and my black leather jacket. I literally had no idea on Mischief's motives to be there, and I thought it made more sense to just show him the same exact version of me he'd seen in Mountain View. Well, at least I was 67kg (148lbs), so roughly 15lbs less than I was at such time.

At 5PM I was in the lobby when he came - he saw me, smiled and hugged me tight - and at that point I thought "All is good, he really wants to be friend with me". 

We stepped out and started walking randomly and picked up the conversation as if Mountain View had finished 2 hours earlier instead of 2 months earlier. At some point we stopped at a nice place, sat at the bar drinking Sancerre for a while and we were having a blast. We got a table and a beef tartare and Mischief got some shrimps and I was teasing him endlessly on his eating non kosher food. All was good but I started having mixed feelings about what was going on, not in a bad way, but I was unable to read the situation. Once food was finished and we were finishing our wine and that is when the neurodivergent me straightly said: "Let me ask you a question: did you come here to fuck me?"

Song for this post: "Supergirl" in the Della Chaos version

one step too far?

No posts.
I'm fat.

I would really really like the best manager I have that works for me to hit on me.

I really really hope that does not happen - I know it will not happen.

I still love my husband, but I am freaking out due to work

workworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkwork

fuck