|Blogs > TattooedWolf > Just the dog in me.|
The ex-files...1987 to 1989.
The ex-files...1987 to 1989.
“When you're talking to yourself and nobody's home.
You can fool yourself, but you’re in this world alone…alone!”
I knew my ex-wife from the neighborhood. There was a group of us that hung out together and we all did that junior high school dating thing, which consisted of talking on the phone and going to the mall. I moved out of the neighborhood because my parents got divorced. I didn’t see her again for a few years.
I remember the day we met up again very well. I had just turned 18 and she was about to turn 17. I was at the mall with some friends and she was working at a jewelry kiosk. It was pure timing. I happened to look over and she looked up. I was blown away. She was simply stunning. We recognized each other and I walked over to say hi. The conversation was brief and I walked away. At the encouragement of my friends, on the way back out of the mall I stopped again to ask for her number. She wrote it down on a scrap of paper about the size of a dime. This should have been clue number one that things were doomed, but I was smitten.
A little TW fashion and music history -
In 1987, I had hair down to the middle of my back. At the time I was playing in two different bands. One was a Metallica cover band named Battered Faith, where I sang and played guitar. The other, Blitz, was a hair band, with influences like Poison, Ratt and Tesla. How did I arrive here? I was a huge Ratt fan in high school. There was nothing more that I wanted than to be like the guitar player Robin Crosby. Robin was 6’11” with blonde hair. I was so bummed when I stopped growing that I had only reached 5’10” that I wore boots with two inch heels to try and make up the difference. Prior to discovering Ratt, a friend had turned me onto Metallica. The first time I heard “Ride The Lightning” my head came off. My parents were in the middle of their divorce and I was angry. Here was music that was angry. Angry teen + angry music = survival through some of the roughest years. My friend and I immediately set out to learn these songs note for note. Being a blond and he a brunette, our roles were easily decided. I learned to play rhythm and sing, he learned to play lead and we went from there. A lot of fun and a lot of good times.
Back to the story.
I think I called her the next day. Not very cool I know, but I just couldn’t wait. We set a date and when her parents found out they immediately grounded her. She was the only daughter of a cop and her mother was a complete lunatic in the truest sense of the word. We talked on the phone until she was free to go out and set another date. You could have cut the hatred with a knife when I met her parents. I was fucked from the get go and that hatred continued until the day we divorced. I had done nothing to earn this hatred and nothing I would ever do would help alleviate it. I don’t recall many details of our dating life. I know it was spent in typical high school dating fashion…hanging out at some fast food place or park with friends until the cops rousted us and then finding some place to park for an hour or so before having to take her home. I do remember she had me wait three months before we had sex.
Now a good friend of mine claimed to have dated and slept with her a few years before me. Now I was all about “bros before ho’s” at that time and had no reason to doubt his word. When I finally wore her down and she agreed to have sex, I thought she had been there and done that. On the night of the blessed event, I left the basement door of my grandparent’s house open and we snuck in long after they were asleep. I had hidden candles and a blanket in the basement earlier. That first time was alright. The earth definitely did not move. It wasn’t until a few days later that she told me that I had been her first. My jaw hit the floor. I told her about my friend’s claim to fame and she got angry that he had lied. Looking back, I regret that night. Her first time should not have been on the basement floor of my grandparent’s house. I really was a shit about it and had I known, I would have handled the whole thing differently. I don’t know how, but just differently.
After I few mores times, she just went fuck crazy. Anywhere, anytime. Unfortunately she gave terrible head and got squeamish whenever I went down on her. Not that she had any worries, she had a beautiful pussy. She was also ticklish just about everywhere. Foreplay was incredibly difficult because no matter where I kissed or caressed, she’d start squirming and get annoyed. During the summer we’d sneak out on the 11th green of a local golf course and have sex under the stars. I remember one night we were a little too close to one of the sprinklers and it caught us by surprise. Looking back I’d say or sex life was healthy but one-sided. The frequency was there but the quality was lacking. She was the type of person who had decided what she liked and disliked before ever trying it. Getting her to explore and experiment was an exercise in futility. It was obvious that I got more out of it than she did. Clue number two that we were doomed.
In 1990 she left for college. I remember suggesting that we see other people. My feeling was that she was going off to college and in my mind she was going to fuck other people anyway, so why not get the green light for myself as well. She on the otherhand burst into tears and asked me why I was doing this to us and pleaded for us to stay monogamous. She adamantly swore that I was the only person she wanted. Maybe on a subconscious level I knew that things were not good and I was looking for an easy was out. Whatever the case, we stayed together.
Cool things my ex-wife did for during these years -
- Bought me a guitar one year for my birthday.
- Kept me on the straight and narrow during my probation.
Wild/erotic things my ex-wife did during these years -
-Got naked while I was driving and promised sex as soon as we got home.
-Gave me head with another couple on the sofa right next to us.
Shitty things my ex-wife did during these years -
- Admitted that she wrote her number on a piece that small hoping I would lose it.
- Slowly but surely started to separate me from my friends.