I try not to write when Im too happy or too sad now. That’s probably why my recent posts have been a bit stagnant.
Right now Im a little drunk, a little lost, a whole lot lonely and feeling a bit all over the place. That should make this all kinds of interesting.
Ill probably delete it in the morning but for now…let’s see what happens. I’ll likely be as surprised as you are by this upcoming bought of verbal diarrhea. A window to the soul, or at least a window into the blackness.
I made contact with someone today. Someone, when I was stronger, I’d already told to leave me be. He did. Then I messaged him today.
I think Im feeling a little lost. I know Im a whole lot lonely and Im definitely craving some sort of contact with a living, breathing human being.
Batteries only get you so far after all. Eventually it’s just not enough.
Im the queen of poor choices in this department. Boys, Men and anything with a penis has basically been a complete mystery to me. I can sleep with them, I learned that young. That’s easy. They all want that. Afterwards it’s a bit of a disaster. The talking. The touching. The being in my bubble. None of that works for me.
Get me off then get the frik out of my house.
That’s been my policy for as long as I care to remember.
It’s not enough anymore.
But then again maybe it is.
Today I reached out to someone Ive cherished for a long time. For the purposes of this we’ll call him what Ive always called him: Himself. My dirty, nearly decade long, secret that has somehow managed to elevate to nearly god-like status despite essentially treating my like a spare/hole in a mattress/on call whore. I dont know how he did it. Anyone else who has even attempted to treat me like he really does has been nearly castrated before being completely disowned. I’d like a vaccine to whatever magic he possesses if anyone has one.
For a very long time it was something of a running joke. He was my guardian angel. Whenever I was struggling or in trouble he came out of the wood work. Like he somehow knew. My girlfriends and I all romanticized it and it became some sort of larger than life fate intervention.
Truthfully I think the guy just has the timing of a saint.
It worked very well for years. We’d hook up for a few months, drift apart or he’d get a girlfriend then we’d drift back together after he broke up or circumstances somehow just brought us together again and we’d pick up like we never left off. I outgrew it and he got a girlfriend just over a year ago. We havent really spoken since.
Recently, only in the past few days, Ive been craving that contact. I think any contact would do despite the voice in my head screaming at me not to go down that road again.
I miss his smell. Is that weird?
I always said if he and Mike could combine I would have the perfect man.
And neither one wants me.
What am I really doing to myself?
Seriously. What am I really doing?
Despite having initiated the contact I balked. Even after a sharing three bottles of wine and four shots with my roommate I balked despite his requests to come see me.
Maybe I am learning after all.