The Dickhead Post

Firstly, a disclaimer. I am not lilly white in this. Equally, I am not the devil incarnate. This is my side of the story, and as always with all things, there are TWO sides. I will put in some of his, as he has explained it to me. No he doesnt have a blog. No you cant go check out HIS version. No I dont believe he will come back and read this, let alone post a comment. Seeing as its my side of things, its sure to be somewhat biased. I try to be fair. But at the same time, this is MY blog. Its all about ME. And why am I airing our dirty linen? Because keeping it bottled up inside me is destroying me. I have serious issues right now, as we all know. And RL friends/longtime readers know, I blog to clear my head and my heart. Its therapy. I dont need anyone to “be on my side”. I just need to say some things. However, i will categorically state for the record, that SOME THINGS HAVE BEEN LEFT OUT. Both favourable to me and not. This will be long. Feel free to skip it.


You know, I just typed a whole heap of stuff. Stuff that explained stuff. And it was wearing me out. Im so tired of the fighting. Fighting that has been going on since about January. Im exhausted.

It comes down to the fact that he and I have trust issues. And we are both stubborn.

I have given him reason to think that I have repeatedly lied to him and led him on about buying into his business. As is the case with me on everything, something always seems to pop up at the last minute making things not go the way I want. I’ll admit, it doesnt look good. But its also not as if its the only thing that repeatedly fucks up at the last minute in my life. Everything does.

He has given me reason to doubt whether he really cares for me how he says he does. He has done this by repeatedly not being there for me, not giving me the affection i crave, repeatedly behaving in a manner contrary to his assertions, and constantly requiring proof of my actions and motivations.

It all came to a head just recently.

DHs truck shit itself. He has overextended himself financially in order to expand on his own, without my capital injection. Unluckily for him, the 2nd hand truck he bought from a friend was fucked. $22K in repairs later, he has been off the road for about three weeks. You can imagine the strain. Poor bastard. I have helped by lining him up with a brilliant mechanic whos work can be trusted, and who will charge him a more than reasonable price. I hooked him up with a method that would get him on the road faster, and cheaper too (also a much simpler job for the mechanic). I even lined him up with a way to recoup some money by selling the broken bits. I also had a plan to reduce the initial outlay of cash, meaning that the immediate amount he needed to find would have been approx $6K instead of $18K or so (although this was just a cash flow thing, he’d still need to find the full price eventually, but this bought him the time he needed to manage that).

He has borrowed the money from someone, with a promise to pay it back in 7-10 days. He is stressing to the max. He has also been knocked back on a bridging loan that he was sure of getting.

He asked to borrow it from me. He knows I hate being asked to lend money. I hate owing it, I hate being owed, and i hate it even more between friends as someone always ends up feeling dirty on the other.

I reluctantly agreed. Under some conditions. That he make me feel better about it by paying me back at least SOMETHING every week/fortnight/month/whatever. But regular repayments, regardless of if it was $20 or $2000 at a time. And that he stop yelling at me and making me feel like crap. I do not take out my frustrations on him, so I dont deserve him doing it to me. Also, I asked him to please put in the extra effort to sort out his shit so he could support me through this.

My suggestion was for him to come up last night after bugalugs was asleep. My favourite thing of late has been to cuddle up with my son and hold him while he goes to sleep. I refuse to miss out on a single night of this. DH knows and respects this. I suggested he come up after Bugalugs was aleep and collect the cash. And that afterwards, when he knew I had kept my promise, he could stay the night. Something he has never done.

Him staying was in the top 5 of my wishlist. I wasnt after sex (not that Id have said no to some getting freaky). I wanted him to stay, to hold me, to run his hand through my hair till i fell asleep. To be there beside me to comfort me when I woke in the middle of the night, crying, frightened and feeling alone. To be there in the morning, for me to open my eyes and see him being there for me. Being my rock. Giving me the strength I need to do what I need to do.

I fell asleep along with bugalugs. Not surprising considering the day Id had, and the fact that not getting enough oxygen in my lungs makes me feel exhausted 24/7. All I do is yawn. Yawn and yawn and yawn. He didnt come. He didnt call. He texted, yes. Asking, begging me to give him the  money.

This morning I called him to apologise for falling asleep. We argued. He called me a liar. He said I had been leading him on. He lashed out. He abused. He hit below the belt. He hurt. He put all the blame on me.

I admitted I felt unimpoortant to him. That I was hurting. That I didnt understand why if he loved me, why he wasnt there for me. He said he needed proof I wasnt playing him. I said I needed proof I wasnt being played for a fool.

I needed to know why, if the conditions of him getting this money out of me is for him to be there for me, why he wont do it.

DH lives with his Aunt at the moment (temporarily and for various acceptable reasons, hes not a 36yr old who lives with mummy, ok?). She is a practising Muslim. She does not think it acceptable for DH to spend the night with a woman he is not married to. Out of respect for her and her beliefs, DH does not stay over. He goes home at 2-3am, but wont stay all night.He lives under her roof, and as such, honours her in that.

I dont care.

Im gunna be dead soon (dont mind the crass bluntness, i just dont have time to feck around, mkay?) I dont give a flying shit about your aunt, babe. I dont care if she dinnae like me. Tough shit. I want my man to hold me. Deal.

And as for you babe, if the last year of us being together, and the whole entire friendship/fuckbuddy thing before that meant anything, then regardless of any possible conceieved dishonour on my part, in honour of THAT WHOLE FUCKING YEAR+ OF OUR LIVES you frikken comfort me this one time. Just once. Maybe it would make up for all the times you let me down when i needed you, that you PROMISED youd make up for. Like my birthday, and when my ouma died, and when my closest friends died. Remember that?

I know, Im a bitch. But DH asked me to be brave. He asked me not to be brave. He asked me to forget my inhibitions, forget appearances, and tell him what I really wanted. I did. I told him what I really wanted was him. I wanted him to stay. To comfort me. To be with me. To support me. To love me. To DO all the things he SAID.

So despite me knowing how wrong it was to ask, I asked. Despite knowing that if I asked and was rejected (again) that it would hurt 1,000,000 times worse than just not asking and not receiving. Despite knowing the enormity of asking someone who loves you to stand by and hold your hand and watch you die, I wanted him with me. So I asked.


I still want him here. I dont know what Im going to do without him. I dont know how to handle a break up right now. I feel guilty for spending valuable time on a broken heart. But it hurts. It occupies my mind. I feel guilty for asking him to subject himself to the hurt he would surely have felt had he remained my partner. Im sorry that I asked him to do that. But at the same time, im glad I asked. That I tried. Im angry at him for letting me down, for making me feel like this, for making me love him, for making myself vulnerable, and having him do exactly what I was afraid of. Im angry at myself for letting this happen. For letting this be such a big deal. For letting him melt my heart.

Before Dickhead, I had my friends, and I had my shags. They were seperate. The guys I fucked I had no intention of getting emotionally involved with. My heart was safe. Dickhead changed all that.

I decided after Bugalugs’ dad (a whole other blog post, if i get the time, but im over that) that i wouldnt let myself care. Dickhead got under my skin. He put it best himself. We both expected our initial meeting to be a one night bit of fun. That night just went on for ages.

Babe, you melted my heart. My heart that I so carefully froze and packed away. Damn you. Damn you for making me feel like this again. Damn you for making me care. I hate you. I hate you for making me love you. I hate you for making me not be able to hate you.


Dickhead: Why do you still want me around?

Honey: Because Im in love with you you fuckwit


Dickhead: *abuse* *hurtful comments* *arguments*

Honey: I cant cope with this right now


Dickhead: You lied to me. You led me on. You have no idea how much this is stressing me out. Dont call me again. Ever. *hangs up*

Honey: ………….


Dickhead: *vindictive comments*

Honey: *returns volley*


Honey: brokenhearted, shameful, angry. gets online. blogs. takes a break and reads email. Sees something aurs said. suddenly realises something she had forgotten, that she isnt ready to blog about, something deep within.

Picks up phone

Calls Dickhead

Dickhead puts her through to voicemail.

Honey tells Dickhead that she cannot stand the thought that they could be the last words they ever say to each other. Tells him how shes sorry she hurt him. She didnt ever mean to. That she understands why he doesnt want to talk to her. That she hopes he listens to her message. That she swears on everything dear to her, that if anything she said to him was ever true, this is. That she cared for him alot. Still does. That she may even have loved him. May still. That she is sorry. That she cares about him. Alot. Alot.

Hangs up.



Dickhead sms’ her back. “Its all in your hands. U want things to b good then come thru on your promises”

Honey slumps back in bed. Feels defeated. Wants to cry. Cant. Wonders if she is all cried out. Wonders if its just because shes so tired. Wonders wether she should publish this post. Wonders of she should add this last part. Decides she should. Types. Doesnt feel better. Doesnt feel like it makes any more sense. Doesnt….anything. Doesnt even feel dejected about not feeling better. Wonders if she feels anything at all. Glances over at Bugalugs. Feels great love and great pain all at once. Notices phone by her side. Feels something, cant figure out quite what. Feels tired. Thirsty. But tired. Very, very tired. A new kind of tired. More, somehow, cant explain how. Too tired to think it through. Too tired to blog it through. Gives up, at least for now. Leaves the rest to fate/god/allah/buddah/whatever. Hits publish.

Explore posts in the same categories: Dickhead

6 Comments on “The Dickhead Post”

  1. aurelius Says:

    Just remember, don’t touch the cheesecake – it will make you fat!
    But it wont kill you.

  2. fitzcarraldo Says:

    this is probably the most self-indulgent thing i have read in weeks.

  3. huniii Says:

    cheesecake is your answer to everything. i remember the story of your dad and the custard tart wasnt it? I shall head straight for the cheesecake shop now.

    1. nice of you to leave out a link to your own blog *cough* coward *cough*
    2. my blog has waaaay more self indulgent stuff than this
    3. FUCK YOU. like i have time for your shit. go pick on someone whos an easier target than me to hit. ooh thats right. there isnt one. nice balls mate.

  4. miss sweets Says:

    Oh man…. ignore fitzcarraldo (whoever it is), what a wanker, enough said.

    Good on you for publishing all of that – there something liberating about /saying posting feelings and I definetly think it’s better out than in (regardless of what it is).
    There’s a million things I wish I could say, but I guess I don’t really know how to.

    Thanks for the image link on my site – it’s awesome!! Once Mr Sweets put on Color Me Badd’s “I wanna sex you up” on and told me that he was going to, indeed, sex me up.

    Best wishes for you and everything you’re going through right now.
    That sounds completely gay, but I mean it.
    Miss Sweets xxx

  5. Hunii, I’ve read your post about twenty times and twenty times I’ve poised fingers over keyboard to say something but haven’t. I still don’t really know what to say. Two things leap at me from what I have read (and this is my take, happy to be shot down), first of all Mr Dickhead seems to be all about him and fuck all about you. At his age worrying about what his Auntie will think, FFS? Secondly, emotional blackmail. That’s what leaps out. You have enough on your plate without having to worry/put up with this shit frankly.

    Anyway, my e-thoughts and e-love (or whatever the interwebby expressions are!) are with you.


  6. huniii Says:

    miss sweets
    it was something i needed to vent, so i did. I love that guys comics. his site cracks me up. Mr sweets sounds like a dag! god love im! Thanks darln, you dont sound gay. well, mebbe a lil!

    20? ffs! LOL
    MR dickhead? When did he get a MR?
    Dickhead is a typical leb, selfish and greedy. Thats not always a bad thing, but when it is, it sucks arse. Its not that he worries what she thinks, its that he has respect. Emotional blackmail? Your spot on. Thats just how it feels.
    I know i have enough on my plate, but this still matters to me. And to be honest, its easier to cry over a broken heart than over the rest of my problems.
    my e-thanks for your e-feelings!

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