Page 1, My Prostitute Girlfriend Handbook

Yep, my “Sweet Cheeks” was a high class, high dollar escort for 4 years in Toronto just prior to our chance encounter at my buddy’s veggie wrap stand in Nica.

We fell for each other because we fuck each other like 1000 year old vampires rolling on ecstasy. I am her Bill Compton and she is my, “Suki”. I love her for all her twisted fucked up shit and she loves me for mine.

I’m 43. She’s 29. I’m 5' 9", she’s 5' 11". I’m 1 point shy from genius, she’s blonde. I’m mature and in control of my emotions. She’s 29 going on 16. I’m a health nut mind/body, she’s a recovering alcoholic and lazy.

But we both like it crazy, a little edgy, raw and dangerous. We do that for each other. My Sweet Cheeks…Man, she’s the real deal. She’s kicks-ass. No lame selfies with puckering lips in a mirror on Facebook or Instagram seeking attention. Glamourized make-up? She’s Miss Natural. Is she a nasty bitch to the world for her hotness? Nope, she can blow it off like a sweet whisper.

Is she a multiple personality knife throwing assassin?

Absolutely.

Anyways. Page 2. Handbook. Rule 4: Don’t live together.

I just bailed her out of County Jail because in a frantic moment of rage, she picked up all the kitchen knives(shown above)and threw them as hard as she could…at me:(

It’s a surreal thing to witness someone I love and care about so much. To see such a deep rage erupt and spill all over me was heart breaking again. That’s what I felt, all that rage she had stuffed deep inside was hurled at me with the intent of hurting my soul. It’s surreal, because in those moments, it had nothing really to do with me personally; I was the trigger.

This was clearly not my beloved.

This was a psycho knife throwing nasty bitch who has been deeply wronged, suffered and pained many times in her past by evil fuckers, her mother included.

What is a guy suppose to do when your lover is attacking you and NOT end up in jail yourself in such a situation?

She was full on crazy. Crazy eyes. Punching, kicking, screaming, trying to kick me in the nuts. So not cool. I took caution not to grab her or fight back. Just defend. She went flying across the room a few times from some adrenaline flared shoulder bumps to get her off of me.

It was surreal, but what on earth did I do to deserve this?

Well, it first started with, “I think you should go back to Canada.”

When I said that two days earlier, she fainted on the spot, right there in the kitchen. This circus knife throwing event occurred after.

So, days before, we agreed that she’ll give me from 5 pm to 7:30 pm Monday, and Wednesday to myself at the apartment. She can’t find a job, she’s there all day, all night and our vampire ecstasy fuck sessions have faded. Plus, I haven’t jerked off in 6 weeks. I needed to get one of those, “You know, one of those nobody else in the house jerks”.

So we have the hard talks, we do exactly that. I work all day, I come home…house is empty, awesome. I made myself a salad. I played with Chimba(dog). I actually cleaned the apartment. I fired up Xhamster.com and jerked one out. I played some guitar and then 7:30 rolled around and I felt so much better!

I was looking forward to seeing her and all I needed was a two hour break? Awesome, this will be easy right?

But she never came home.

The ironic thing about all this is this, I was pretty dead set the living together thing wasn’t working out because of me, not her. I pushed honest hard conversations the days prior and agreed that we can continue our love story, we just shouldn’t live together for a host of reasons. Mostly because distance makes the heart grow fonder and I don’t want to see anyone every day.

I can go on for miles on my theory of relationships, but what makes it work is distance from each other, thoughts of infidelity, jealousy…giving the other the gift of missing you.

If we don’t see each other for a week like we did in Nica? Then I come over and we grind out a session that reinforces all things we fell in love with at the beginning. That’s why it worked well in Nica.

If we fight over something? That’s usually a good thing, we carve a deeper bond through that process.

Some fucked up shit happens like aliens invade and we fight them off together like a scene out of Falling Skies? Most likely we’ll be fucking like banshees.

So, 9 pm rolls around, she still hasn’t come home and I got that sick feeling in my stomach that she went drinking. That she couldn’t hold it together, she broke her promise, it’s all going to be over tonight, she’s drunk.

Shit fuck.

I text her. Within two responses, I know it’s blackout drunk, Evil Nathalie. I swear it’s the female version of Fight Club. There’s this whole other personality that emerges in her and she never remembers anything?

She’s at a stranger’s house, I have to go pick her up…great? Not good. It sucks when your girlfriend who used to be a high class escort is blacked out drunk at a stranger’s house! All kind of fucked up shit rolls through your brain.

But see, I’m the 1000 year old vampire…I keep it cool.

The epic drama that followed was could of been a True Blood episode. When I picked her up, she was blacked out drunk. She was mean, I was silent and I was relieved she was now safe from herself.

This living together arrangement was agreed to be our last attempt to make this work, we made a pact. As long as she doesn’t drink, our living experiment will continue. She drinks, it’s over. We persevered over too much fucked up shit together in the past because of her alcoholism and I was done with it. I should of known better…but I didn’t want to regret not trying. I love my sweet cheeks.

So, after 15 minutes of her saying every mean thing she can to me, when we finally arrive at the apartment I sadly say, “We are done, let’s go pack a bag you are staying in a motel tonight. It’s over. We’re done. You blew it.”

Now like a 8 year old child, her mean streak is over, she’s suddenly sober, quite, wouldn’t even get out of the truck and starts crying. It finally hit her, that this relationship is over again, she can’t shake her cycle no matter how much support and love I give her.

She was doing so well too, but right when things got real. Right when we had the hard talks, the honest truth about us…doing the real work that’s required to be in a relationship, she couldn’t hold it together.

What can I say, I’ve been a stand-up guy, but I won’t tolerate disrespect or boundary issues. I loved her, accepted her, I provided guidance and helped her mature in many ways, but I always held her accountable for her actions.

This was one of those moments and it was over.

Finally we make it to the apartment building and it gets physical. She wants to take her bike into my apartment and I say, “No, we’re getting your stuff, we’re packing your bags and I’m putting you in a motel.”

She started punching, kicking and pulling on my me…she’s livid and She blames me for everything. I’m fine though, she’s gone bat shit crazy before and there is no fucking way she’s staying with me tonight.

In hindsight, I probably should have stayed in a motel myself, but when we got to the apartment and I pulled her bags out of the closet and threw them on the floor, my mindset was, “Fuck you, we’re done, this is over and you are out!”

This is when she really went bizerko. She grabbed every kitchen knife and through them at me with rage. I saw it coming and preemptively positioned myself as they went flyin by into the door and wall…this is when I went for the phone. It’s 911 time.

In my mind, it was out of hand and I was going to have to do something that would leave a mark. I quickly saw myself going to jail over this shit, so I picked up the phone, dodged out the front door as she was bouncing off the walls and called 911.

When I came back and opened the front door while talking to the cops on the phone…

She was standing there, she was digging the biggest kitchen knife of them all in her own breast, screaming at me like the exorcist, “WHO THEY GONNA BELIEVE!!!!”

Shit fuck.

Something similar to this happened 8 months ago when we both were living Nicaragua. Opening night of my new pizza in the jungle restaurant…oh my, that was such a disaster. Her and too much alcohol is a wicked combination. How I handled it there was much different than how I handled it here.

The results were much different too. There, I physically controlled her when Tyler Durden appeared. I actually jiu-jitsued her in the middle of the jungle on a dirt road and then put her out with a rear naked sleeper hold. It was the nicest thing I could do to stop the madness, protect myself and my friends. When she came too, she went crazy and we had another round, but I eventually got her home safely and she didn’t remember any of it. We broke up of course, but then we got back together a couple weeks later.

So hard to find anyone who can fuck like vampires on exactasy?

Here, I can’t do any of that.

If there is any sort of domestic violence, mandatory arrests happen, and the person arrested is charged with a felony regardless if you press charges or not. You have absolutely ZERO say in the matter. The “state” presses felony charges and it’s County Jail. Felony Domestic Violence. Done.

Jesus Christ Superstar. Fuck you OJ Simpson. This is not justice, this is a fucking disaster for my, “Sweet Cheeks”.

And off she went to county jail.