-
I miss him. I think that means that I must hate myself.
-
Dear World,
Where’s my Hank Moody?
I really need him right now.
-
Baby I can’t wait to make sweet love to you under the stars on the beach in paradise.
A week and a half ago, the bartender and I booked a flight to Central America, Panama and Costa Rica to be specific, for a whole month. I’ve never been on a vacation with a man, let alone for a whole month with one. I’m terrified but unbelievably excited. I’m hoping it will be the adventure of a lifetime and we’ll fall head over heels in love with each other and live happily ever after. This is our make it or break it point. Once we get back from this vacation, either we’re official or we’re done for. I’m hoping it’s the first option of course.
Last night, we partied and fucked until the sun came up. All because we found a long lost rock of cocaine from New Year’s Eve that I had left on his desk. Since he’s already in vacation mode, he figured why not. But of course that rock wasn’t enough so he gave me money and off I went to meet up with a friend to buy us some more. The man drank 12 beers. I polished off a bottle of wine. Between us we did two grams. Disgusting. Then we ran out (or so he thought) so he thought that splitting a cap of MDMA would be a good idea. Needless to say, it was. Damn I love the way that man touches me, high, drunk or sober. Despite the fact that I’m always satisfied, each and every time, I really can’t get enough. It’s like a drug. I’m always looking for my next hit. The way the first stroke feels. The way he wakes me up with his fingers in my pussy or his head between my legs. The way he shudders under me when I’m sucking his hard cock. The way he pulls my head to his to give me a deep passionate kiss when he’s fucking me from behind. The way he spoons me afterwards with his still hard cock pressed up against my ass, immediately making me want more. Fuck. I can’t wait until we get to do this everyday, everywhere in paradise.
Sidenote: I think I may be a nympho, or something of the sort.
-
Is it even worth it? Why bother? What is the point in trying when there’s no trust? Let alone when there’s no trust to be regained.
I try and I try but no matter what, he always thinks the worst of me. I’m not a she-devil. I’m not Marcy. I’m not going to snoop through your stuff (ok, ok. I’ve done it once or twice but give me a break, you were fucking other people, and cruising online dating sites and telling me you weren’t), tell you to stop talking to your best female friend (first off, she’s awesome, secondly, Marcy must have been insecure and/or controlling), do excessive drugs every day of the week, or take your money (I have my own).
This next month is either going to be the greatest experience of a lifetime or the worst. There’s no in between for us. Not this time. It’s make it or break it.
-
You know you party too much slash have a problem when you find a rock of cocaine left over from last weekend on your desk and feel the need to do it. Right then and there. For no good reason.
-
Does love really come in a little blue box? Well, of course not, but it sure does make for a Merry Christmas.
~ Moi -
I’m choking
On the words
I said
Intentionally
To hurt you
I welcome my
Asphyxiation
In hopes
That I might
Reswallow
My words
The only problem is
That they
Taste so bad
I would have
To spit
Them out
And maim you
Again
So I’ll choke
In silence
And if I die
My tears
Will do the
Screaming
For my throat -
Just because your ex-boyfriend is married with a kid on the way doesn’t mean he’s not a dirt bag.
-
So I ran into the first today. He’s a new addition to the character list of my messed up twenty-something life. In fact, he came into the picture well before I was in my twenty-somethings. He is exactly what his name says: my first. My first boyfriend, my first real kiss, my first handjob, my first blowjob, my first fuck, my first love, my first pregnancy, my first abortion. Everything began with him.
I was walking from the GO bus terminal to work and saw him. I didn’t even know if I should stop and say hi or just walk by. He was in his own little world. Needless to say, I couldn’t help it. I hadn’t seen him in at least 3 or 4 years, probably since we were in my basement bachelor apartment in my third year at Western before things got serious with the ex. We watched a movie - Brokedown Palace - cuddled, and made out a bit. I missed his touch. Never too soft, never too rough, but with a sense of urgency and desire - almost perfect. He was a sweet guy to begin with, when we dated, and once things ended, he went from sweet to complete douchebag. Anyway, it’s a long complicated story that would require a therapist on hand to explain it without a mental/physical/emotional breakdown on my part.
Our run-in went like so:
I tapped him in the shoulder. He was so surprised to see me. Almost relieved. He looked the same, except with the addition of weight gain and the stressed marked into his face. Before he hand said much he felt the need to tell me that him and Becky (the one he cheated on me with and is now married to) are expecting a baby girl in a month’s time. As though to save him from saying anything more. To prevent him from making the conversational mistakes that he made prior to his wedding last year. He was well dressed in a suit and casually mentioned that he was on his way to an interview with KPMG. He asked me about my life and I digressed. Then he looked at me in such a way… as though he missed the times when things were simpler, when we were teenagers; without a mortgage, a wife and a kid on the way. He said I looked beautiful as always and hadn’t changed since he had last saw me. He said he hoped I hadn’t lost some of my naivety. I said that for the most part, through the years and the men, it’s gone but I will always be the one dumb enough to give people the benefit of the doubt to start. He kissed me on the cheek, looked me in the eye and said he hoped to run into me sometime again soon.
I wanted to curl up into a ball afterwards. I wanted to be held. But, sad to say, I had no one there. I instead went to work and worked a 12 hour day.
I still hate him but I will always have a soft spot for him. I mean, after all, he was my/the first.
-
I did a photo shoot with an acquaintance of mine not too long ago. He sent me some of the photos before he’s had a chance to edit them so I could see the product. It was a pretty risqué shoot but fun nonetheless.