MaruskaMorena

Jun 282017
 

When Mr. TakeMe is drunk or been drinking at all, we have a wonderful time. He is loving and sweet and we share amazing moments.

When he is sober, I am the furniture. I am the reliable chair or snuggly blanket. Always there. Essential to keeping him comfortable, but nothing more.

Last night, Mr. TakeMe actually called me. He usually texts, but this time he called. He was super drunk. More drunk than he was last time. Unintelligible other than the words food, and needing me.

I debate meeting him. I’m tired. I’ve only had a few hours of sleep. I need my rest, but he sounds bad.

And I miss him. I miss him like I miss sunshine, or blue skies, or laughter.

So I tell him I’ll meet him at his place.

He doesn’t show.

I get worried.

I decide to see if he’s at the bar. He is. He’s in his car, passed out, doors unlocked. The bar owner and staff are wondering what to do about him, and they’re relieved that I show up.

They drag his limp body into my car. I grab his keys. Lock his car. And drive him to get food, pay for it because he’s passed out again, and then to his place.

He’s barely with it enough to get out of the car and drag himself to his apt. So I unlock his place, and go back and lock my car.

I make him sit in his desk chair so I can hound him into eating something before he passes out again.

Then he starts talking. He tells me about how he’s ruined everything over his ex and going back to her. He tells me about how he had someone who really really liked him and he ruined it for his ex… and suddenly I realize he’s not talking about me. He’s talking about someone else.

He tells me about all sorts of things.. tells me how amazing I am and how much he likes me and how he doesn’t deserve me.

He tells me about his sex bruises from his ex and some new ones from someone else… and I break.

Since we were last together, he’s been with his ex AND someone else. Someone that wasn’t me. Yet, he only calls me because he’s too drunk.

And I realize that somewhere along the way, I became the doormat.  I start crying. I’m really trying not to, but I do.

He holds me and suddenly a light goes off in him, and he realizes that I fucking care about him.  He says he doesn’t know what to do that he’s never been in this situation before, but he holds me tenderly like he usually does.

I wait for him to pass out, and I leave. I can’t stay and pretend that everything is alright.

But I have to return to take him to his car in the morning. Sure, I could have left him stranded. It would have served him right, but I’m not that kind of person.

So I go back. He’s still sleeping. I lay down beside him. He’s refusing to wake up, and finally I say…

“If you want a ride to your car, you’d better get your ass up.”

He wakes in confusion asking where’s his car. He rushes. I start driving him to his car.

I can instantly tell that he’s forgotten everything about last night. He starts telling me about his ex, and I’m numb. I want to push him out of the car. I don’t.

I tell him about his state last night, and what I did for him. He says “Thanks” and “Sorry” as if it was just expected. As if, that’s my job. I am the furniture.

He gets out of my car. Says something about making it up to me, but we both know it’s a lie.

Jun 262017
 

Photo by Viktoria Hall-Waldhauser on UnsplashI had a great day on Friday. I was “over” Mr. TakeMe. I could move on. I met new people. Met a great guy.

On Saturday, the sex withdrawal started to hit me. It didn’t help that I had a really great makeout session the night before without sex to finish it off.  Then George started testing me his crazy, and I thought.. maybe George can take the edge off.

So I see George. I want to jump him but my brain runs me out of the place quickly before I do.

Then he texts me about another night alone in bed. He’s joking, but I jump in my car and am at his front door.

He arrives. We go inside and he starts to get on his computer. Instead of my usual waiting around, I say, “This is not why I came over. If you’re going to get on your computer I’m going to just go ahead and leave.” (Progress. Kudos to me)

We go upstairs and get undressed for sex. He lays there. I forgot how much he wants to be controlled, ordered around. It’s so different from Mr. TakeMe that I tell him it’ll take me a minute to adjust. George completely doesn’t understand what I mean, and it pisses me off enough that I just start ordering him around.

His touch isn’t like Mr. TakeMe’s. He’s not as primal. He’s not seizing the moment.

And then he gets bored of sex quickly. I’m not even close to being done. Sure I’ve “orgasmed” but not to satiety, and he knows it. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to continue. He’s done.

After months of really great sex with Mr. TakeMe… I miss it so much. I’m about to hit up 20 yr olds on Tinder for a hard dick and teach them just how to use it.

It doesn’t help that to go to the post office, I not only drive by Mr. TakeMe’s place.. but also his girlfriend’s house.

Jun 242017
 

Photo by Jakob Owens on UnsplashSo after accepting Mr TakeMe for who he is, my mind settled and clarity snuck in. I finally felt good. Clear. Motivated.

I’m sure there’s other factors that went into it as well as my health plays a part in all this odd emotional brain bullshit too.

But feeling clear.. I finally cleaned out my car. I suddenly realized that here I have this beautiful car and instead of actually making the most of it, I was.. continuing to keep it in trash, disorder, making it embarrassing to let anyone in.

Just like I do with my personal life.

And it dawned on me. I’ve been building walls to keep people out with the disorder around me.

I’ve lived in my new place for over 6 months now. I still haven’t fully unpacked. And because I haven’t unpacked, I haven’t had people over. It’s been my excuse for keeping people at bay, while also being lonely because no one comes over.

Self-Sabotage. I am the queen!

So hopefully my health lets me keep this clarity long enough to actually get unpacked and organized and make a functional home here.

After working on cleaning up things around me so someone can actually get in (literally and figuratively), I decided to go out.

I received a very sexy sundress/maxi-dress last week and I was waiting to wear it for Mr TakeMe. (seriously, the dress would have him drooling) but with my recent revelations.. I saw the dress and I thought..

I’m going to go out and strut my sexy self and everyone else will either get on board or fuck off. It felt like freedom and I was embracing the hell out of it.

I go to karaoke, and things go well. I felt good and felt like making friends. I actually talked to a few people I don’t normally and hopefully started some friendships.

Then I head to the bar where I last saw Mr. TakeMe. I’m half hoping he’s there and can see me in this dress, and I’m half hoping he’s not there because who needs that kind of drama.

He’s not there. Good.

Then things got… fun.

I sit down at the bar and order a drink. Some spanish speaking Mexican food worker (still had on his work outfit) sat next to me and started to chat me up by bragging about his work and asking if I ate there, and not understanding me when I did reply and not taking my ignoring him as a clue to shut up.

He left to do something and a guy two seats down starts asking me weird questions about what I’m drinking (I knew he wanted to buy me a drink but I was being my normal pain in the ass flirt) and I tell him, “Alcohol”.

He continues to try to engage me in conversation in a loud bar, from at least 5 ft away.

Annoyed, I move the spanish-speakers drink, and tell the guy to move over and take his seat, because I’m not yelling the entire night.

He moves over and the conversation gets awkward. He starts asking me really personal questions about my work and income that it starts to feel a lot like he’s wanting to sell me financial advice. He however persists in attempting to engage me in conversation.

“Lets talk about something else because this is not working and I’m about to tell you to fuck off.”

It takes him a minute and then he asks if I have pets. So we talk about pets and he mentions having 4 kids. He’s a proud papa.

The bartender keeps coming by to check our drinks and he insists on buying me a second one.. and then tells the bartender to put several of them on his tab for me to drink later… as he announces he has to leave.

He didn’t ask my number or offer his. But when he left, I was finishing one drink with two other drinks in a line before me untouched.

The dress is THAT good.

So I drink myself down to only one drink in my hand, and head outside to see if someone interesting is there. Most of my bar friends smoke so chances are I know someone out there.

I didn’t, but I see this attractive young looking man out there sitting all by himself. Emboldened by the dress, I stand next to his table and start up a conversation. He reciprocates.

I look at his hand for a ring (very obviously, seriously emboldened by the dress) and ask him if he’s single. He is.

I notice that there’s a drink to his side as if he had company. I wonder who and where they are. Should I expect a hot woman to come out of the bathroom at any moment?

I point out the drink, and ask if I’m interrupting something. He quickly moves the drink away from him while explaining.

“Oh, that was my friend, Dayna. She had to leave…” He continued to ramble for a bit making it quite clear that they were just friends, and leaving me enough details about her to realize it’s the same Dayna that I know, who had just said Hi/Bye to me a few minutes ago.

We talk about our shared “friend” for a bit. It seems we both met Dayna the same way. She lost puppied us into embracing her as a friend, even though neither of us know her very well.

We talked about his work. We talked about mine. He told me where he lives (pointed on a map, giving me his street name) and I told him where I lived (even gave him my street name) and we plotted on the map how easy/difficult it would be to get to each other’s place. (because the roads aren’t in a straight line, walking to each other’s place is out, but we’re almost neighbors).

He has two dogs. Which I plan to use against him to see his place someday.

Last call comes around and he offers to buy me a drink. I instead put our drinks on my tab. He shows no sign of macho arrogance or offense or that he’s trilled to have someone pay for his drink because he’s broke. Instead, he reacted perfectly.

He introduces me to his bar friends. They look sketchy, but most people’s bar friends do.

The bar is closing and we pay our tabs and he walks me to my car while holding my hand. YAS!

We talk about our cars. Mine being new and his being 12 years old. We talk about our car history and new vs used and…

We kiss. He tells me it’s been awhile, and that he wants to take things slow. Awhile = 5 years.

I tell you now.. men adulting while obviously wanting more.. super sexy.

We talk more. I try really hard NOT to press things forward sexually.. but I’ve had a line of drinks and he’s being responsible adult sexy. So… I’m not entirely sure I succeeded.

We stood talking and kissing (he’s not a bad kisser but he’s afraid to use his tongue) for an hour and half.

He was having trouble pulling himself away, and I wasn’t really cooperating with that endeavor. I wasn’t forcing myself on him by any means, but I wasn’t making it easy for him to go.

But I finally did.

We exchanged numbers and have a possible something maybe on Sunday. I’m not happy with the tentativeness of the plans, but we’ll see if anything happens.

Jun 242017
 

Photo by Gabriel Matula on UnsplashOk. You can completely ignore my last post. I wrote it too soon before I’d processed the entire night and morning.

Sometimes it takes me a while to process what happens and my feelings about it and what really happened.

So here’s the thing. It has become clear that Mr. TakeMe does not really know what actual love is. I mean, I barely know… but he doesn’t know at all.

He also has so little love for himself that he can’t accept real affection from someone. If someone cares about him, they must be trash. It also makes him feel worse about himself.

How can one feel worse about themselves by someone loving them? Well see, it starts with not feeling worthy of love, mix in not feeling worthy of the other person, add that other person is way too good for them (in his mind).. and that affection feels wrong.. it makes you feel less than and vile and even worse.

That is Mr. TakeMe.

Every single time he felt like I was being too kind or affectionate. Not sex affection, but real affection.. he would lash out at me.

And since I’m not into being punished for loving someone… I’m out.

The minute that this realization dawned on me, the world suddenly seemed right again.

I’m 100% sure he’s back in the abusive relationship with his ex. That seems to be the only way he can feel love with a sexual partner is through hate… I hope he gets the help he needs, but I doubt he will until he reaches rock bottom.

Jun 222017
 

So I went out drinking last night. I wanted to stay home, but I couldn’t. It’s empty at home and too much time to think about Mr. TakeMe.

So I went out for “Steak & Karaoke” and when it was over, I went to the other local bars close by.  Mr TakeMe also frequents those and I hoped I’d see him. I didn’t know what I was going to do when I saw him, but I wanted to see him.

So I waited around. Sure enough, mid-drink I look over and he’s sitting at the bar with a blonde woman.

I’m instantly hurt. He didn’t say hi. He didn’t try to be friends.

Then I look closer. He’s with his ex. He thinks he loves her. He cheated on her. She cheats on him constantly (according to him). And they are like oil and water.

I’m now livid. He fucking dumped me for HER?????? HER???? She looks OLD (she’s just younger than me) and nasty. It’s possible she’s a nice woman, but I instantly hate her.

I pay my tab, finish my drink, and leave.

Mr TakeMe doesn’t acknowledge me at all. I want to punch him in his face.

I go to the bar next door, and randomly message guys to see if they want to have sex. I want to hurt Mr TakeMe. I want to message him that I’m off to have risky sex with some guy I don’t know.

I get someone to say yes to sex and I message Mr. TakeMe that I saw him at the bar and that I’m heading out for sex with some guy I don’t even know his name.

My car is right outside the bar he was at though, and as I walk by the entrance to the outdoor area. I see him. He calls me over. I go.

He tells me his ex is a worthless whore and that she’s trying to pick up guys at the bar. He looks defeated. I want to call him a dumbass. I refrain.

I comfort him with a hug which lasts an extended time, and then I leave. My sex date is waiting.

My sex date turns out to be the biggest man-child. He whined about having to go to a bar. Whined about meeting me at the cafe. After 3 hours of attempting to get him to meet me in public, I gave up. No sex is worth that much effort.

It is then that I see I have messages from Mr. TakeMe.

Please come see me I’m drunk I don’t want to go to her house and kill her or fucking throw another five wine bottles in her goddamn driveway or one of the fuck it’s going to happen from this point on
I hate my motherfucking life I’m so sorry fuck I don’t know what to say
I’m at LRP but I don’t want to be here
LOP
[Name of Bar] whatever the fuck it is
Fuck

I had just ordered food at the cafe, so I wrote him back telling him to go home and I’d meet him there, and I tell him that I’m at the cafe waiting on food.

He doesn’t receive my messages according to FB. I get worried. Mr. TakeMe is an emotional guy. He tries hard to be the macho man, but he’s made entirely of marshmallow fluff. Huge sweetheart which is hidden well behind him being an asshole. I’m not afraid that he’s going to harm her. I’m more afraid that he’s going to harm himself.

I rush through my food and go looking for him. I finally find him, and he drives off after texting me to meet him at the cafe.

I drive back to the cafe. I see him in his car. He’s sitting there. As I get closer I see he’s yelling and crying about his ex. When I get to the car, I see he’s using voice to text to text her what a “piece of shit she is” and that he can’t believe he “fell for her bullshit again.” (Supposedly she told him she loved him. Wanted only him. Only he would do.)

I open his car door. He’s trying to pull away and hide that he’s so upset, but he can’t. I know I should be mad at him and upset, but I was consumed by his pain and I couldn’t let him go through it alone. I would be his shoulder if it killed me.

I put my hand on his back, and softly say, “Come here, hon.”  and I hold him as he cries.

It takes a while but he starts to pull himself back together. He’s too drunk to be driving and he needs food. He says he wants bacon but he doesn’t like the cafe’s bacon. I tell him I know a place and offer to drive.

He starts apologizing. Telling me that he really really likes me. Emphasing how much. But then stating he just can’t get over her. I know this. I mutter “dumbass” under my breath.

I take his keys. He leaves his phone in his car.  I drag him to my car, and I drive him a few miles away to a better diner.

He’s exhausted and obviously hasn’t eaten and too much drink. I end up feeding him about 1/3 of his food because he’s too messed up to manage to eat, and I can tell I need to get him home in bed. It’s already 3am, and he works in the morning.

I get him home. He pauses outside to smoke. He tells me I can go home. Makes it sound like what he wants. It hurts.

“Do you want me to go home?”

His eyes get sad, and looks me in the eye, “I want you to stay. I would love for you to stay. I will cuddle you and love on you and do whatever you want. I want you to stay, but I understand it’s unfair to ask.”

Serious wounded puppy.

I was already going to stay. I even brought ear plugs to stay all night. I am fighting for him to be mine. I’m not going anywhere.

I finally drag him inside. Grab him some water. We get in bed and snuggle. We have sex.

But he’s not really with me. He’s with me, but it’s revenge sex against his ex. He’s using me, and I know it. I also know he needed it. He starts getting revenge sex rough with me and causing pain (which if it was my enjoyment that would be one thing, but this is him getting his anger out about HER on me. Oh hell no.) I flat out tell him no and that he does not get to punish me for her shit. He has to be nice or I’m done.

His face was a mix of hurt, shame, sorrow, and apology.  He started talking about where she was and that she was probably having sex… and then said.. I’m sorry I just want to hear you scream so loudly that if she’s outside she calls the cops.

I realize he wants theatre. So I mix real and fake at a much louder volume. Our early days of sex weren’t much different. I was using him for this kind of thing and he was using me.

Finally we snuggle, he tells me that he doesn’t deserve me (this we agree on) and how much he really likes me. And just as we go to sleep, he whispers (I only make out part of it) “I want to be with you. Just you and I. Just us.”

I stay the night. My first time ever staying the night with him.

He is loving in the mornings. Not just sex, but sweet. And he was definitely with me. Just me. He was so happy that I finally stayed and we woke up together. (well I was awake most of the night, I just pretended we woke together.)

I don’t know what we are.. I get the feeling that we’re dating dating… I suspect we’re monogamous. But honestly I don’t know.

He could be getting back together with his ex right now. What I do know, is that there is only me and her. And I can take her.

He mentioned that it took 4 months for him to fall for his ex. He and I are close to 3 months. It’ll happen, if I don’t kill him first.

Jun 222017
 

Well.. a lot has happened since my last post.

I’d messaged Mr. TakeMe on Sunday (as I wrote in my posts) asking if he wanted to be more than just sex buddies. Which is the last “defined” role we had.

He replied that he liked where we were and to keep it just sex. His life was too complicated to bring someone into it.

To say that I didn’t take that very well.. kinda an understatement.

Monday night, I messaged him asking if he wanted to get together for sex.

He replied, “maybe” and then didn’t text me again.

I knew something was off. I knew there was someone else.

So when I didn’t hear from him on Tuesday at all.. I went out drinking. There were things I wanted to say to him. Things about Saturday. Things about us. Things.

And since he wasn’t talking to me. My options were… bring it up like a crazy person out of the blue… OR… get drunk and verbally vomit it out in text to him.

I chose vodka. I wrote him about 15 texts. In a row.  It was a relatively coherent barrage of “I love you” without actually saying that.

He responded positively… and then told me that he didn’t feel emotionally connected to me and that he was starting a relationship with someone else.

I felt gutted. But what can you do? So I cried. And slept. and… went out drinking on Wednesday.

Jun 182017
 

I left off a few things in my previous post, because I was caught up in .. what if he likes me? What if he doesn’t? OMG.

But as I laid down to sleep, I started replaying the night. Normally when I go over to his place that late at night because he’s lonely, it’s straight to the bedroom. Get undressed. Cuddle. Maybe have sex. ok.. usually have sex.

Last night, when we finally come in.. I go to put my stuff in his room and figure he’ll be right in after me. He wasn’t. So I leave his room and he’s heading into the living room and straightening up the couch. Fluffing pillows.

We talk about something. I don’t remember what.

I hint-ask what we’re doing in the living room, because he doesn’t seem like he’s heading to the bedroom anytime soon.

He says, “I thought we’d hang out a bit. That’s ok isn’t it? Or do you want to go straight to the bedroom?”

The way he said “bedroom” you could tell he didn’t want to go there yet. So I said we could watch something.

The few (like twice) times we’ve attempted to watch something.. he was drunk.. and we didn’t watch anything. It was a rather quick segue into having sex.

But last night, we watched and had the movie not messed up and not played, we’d probably have finished it.

We snuggled on the couch watching the movie. Just holding each other. But once the movie messed up, he turned around and started kissing my breasts and we made out for a bit.

Generally this would have immediately led to the bedroom.

Last night, it stopped. He started talking about something. Or the other. Then he went to the kitchen. Offered me something to drink. Listed off everything he had on stock.

Then we went outside. We talked. He talked about his dreams of improving the backyard. What he wanted to do with it, etc. He talked about the neighbors and things outside his fence.

We came back in and sat on the couch again. He talked about various things.. his kids.. his baby mammas.. the girl he met who only wants him for a fling.. dating.. our past.. where we grew up.. what we wanted in dating (we both are looking for the same thing).

We made out some more. Nuzzling. Kissing. and holding each other as if our hearts would break.

He pointed out the photos he took. Talked about how he took them, his camera, the lighting, how they were printed.. talked about missing photos in one of his “family” frames and how he needed to get photos printed of his youngest child to put in there.

“I’m going to go retuck in my boy. Do you want to see him?” It was a question of a happy proud father, but I was still apprehensive. I don’t feel it’s right to meet someone’s kids until it’s serious.

“Do you want me to see your son?”

He replied something along the lines “If you want to” but I knew he wanted me to. So I did.

He was so sweet and gentle with his kid, and my heart nearly melted out of my chest. If I wasn’t smitten with him already, that would have done it.

Then we went to the bedroom. Got naked. Got into bed. He laid on his back, and I snuggled up next to him laying my head on his shoulder… just like he likes it (I like it that way too, so it works) with one of his arms wrapped around me holding me there.

We start to talk. He asks if I just want to cuddle or if I want to have sex. He doesn’t usually ask, he just usually goes for what he wants. I reply that I could go either way. He says he’d like to have sex. I say ok.

He rolls me over and climbs on top of me. We kiss… normal foreplay stuff.. but this time, he’s teasing me. He knows I’m ready to go that I want him, but he continues to not enter me.. just tease me.

Then he enters.. and as he enters.. it feels the same yet different. Something is different. I open my eyes and see him watching me. His eyes aren’t filled with lust or desire, there’s a tenderness there.

I raise my arms to hold his face between my hands, and I look into his eyes. He lowers himself to me, staying in me, still thrusting.. but his face is just a few inches from mine. We look into each other’s eyes.

We’ve never done it like this before. Never this intimate. I see something pass through his gaze.. a thought.. I ask.. he says nothing… but we both know he’s lying.

He moves closer to kiss me. I meet his lips half way.

He wants to look at me while we have sex. He wants me to look back at him.

My legs get tired (Thanks Jose) so I ask to switch up positions. We do doggy for a bit, but it feels cold and empty.. so I switch it to riding him.

I don’t get a lot out of being on top. But he does. It’s intimate like it was when he was on top. We’re enjoying each other. He’s really enjoying it. Moreso than I’ve ever seen him before.

He can go for ages, but I finally get tired and get off him and lay down next to him and snuggle. He holds me and falls asleep. I start to move, he pulls me closer and kisses my forehead. I move my lips to his and kiss him gently. When he’s fully asleep, (he snores like a freight train) I get up. Pull the covers over him, put the pillows back on the bed. I kiss his forehead, and use all my control not to tell him “I love you”.

We weren’t fucking last night. We were having sex.. and part of it.. part of it, felt a lot like making love.

Jun 182017
 

Saturday night (last night), .. well actually lets just start with the entire Saturday first.

I woke up smelling like Jose. Instant depression. I hated myself for being with Jose. I felt like shit. I didn’t want to see anyone.

I slept all day. ALL FUCKING DAY.

I woke up at 8:30pm. Felt a little better about myself, but not much. Decided I wasn’t fit for being around people. Didn’t shower. Attempted to clean house. Gave up.

Turn on the TV.

Wallowed.

Checked my messages for Mr. TakeMe.

Decided I was going to be alone forever. Quit dating. Got on a dating app. Gave up on dating again.

Wallowed.

And just when I was completely fine with being forever alone again..

Mr. TakeMe messaged me.  “Hi”

I messaged him back. He asked me to come over.

Last time he messaged me to come over when he had his kid, I said no. I said I wasn’t comfortable. I said I would need us to be more than just fuck buddies for me to come over while his kid was there. It would just feel wrong.

Last night, I said yes. I jumped in the shower. Half dried my hair. Threw on a some resemblance of makeup. Threw on some clothes.. and drove over to his house.

I get there and we talk outside about his ex. Then we go inside, and instead of just hopping into bed, he wants to start a movie. (it’s 2am mind you) So he starts Goonies.

We cuddle and talk. And talk.

Then he wants to go outside to pee, and I’ve never seen his backyard so I ask him to show it to me. He does. Then he pees. Then he talks more about his backyard.

We go inside. We talk about dating. He says it’s awkward asking people if they want to be monogamous. He talks about dating and this girl he met. He tells me all about previous women.  I talk a bit about my previous men. (I don’t mention Jose. I think about it, but it’s not important. And if I talk about Jose, I’ll tell Mr. TakeMe that I’d rather be with him.)

He tells me about these photographs on his walls. They’re amazing. He took them. WHAT? He showed me his “awesome” quality. (so fucking hot)

The entire time felt like he was feeling me out to see if I was interested in more. I don’t know if he was or not, and I was way too chicken to own up to wanting more.

I want him. All of him.  ALL OF HIM. I’m way fucking attached. I didn’t mean to be. I didn’t want to be.

But I want to cut that f’n bitch he met. Lucky for him I’m a non-violent person and well ingrained with social etiquette and proper conduct. Also that I’m terrified of going to jail.

So when he asked if I wanted to see his kid (he was going into his kid’s room to re-tuck him in), I went.

Because I’m attached to him.

And because I’m attached to him, when he asked later while we were having sex, if I’d agree to let some other guy fuck me while he watched, and make that guy watch while he fucked me.. I said yes.

Now I’d have said yes a few weeks ago, if no other reason than to cross a 2 guy 1 girl threesome off my bucket list… but last night I said “yes” because I wanted to make him happy.

I’m attached to him. I don’t know if he wants me to be attached to him or not. But I’ll find out.

See I just sent him a message. Telling him I have non-friend feelings for him and asking him if he wants more than just sex buddies with me.

So I’ll find out. I may have just ruined the regular sex thing we had going.. and he may never want to see me again.. but I’ll find out.

Jun 182017
 

Friday night, I decided to go out and find someone else. I was not going to be with Mr. TakeMe. I was going to find someone else.

I tried. But no one looked remotely interesting nor interested.  So I texted an ex-fuck, Jose (from back in February) who recently had started messaging me again. He asked where I was, and met me there.

He was fatter than I remembered, despite him telling me he’d lost weight. And he was uglier than I remembered.

And he was much more boring.. not that we’d talked much before.

But he wasn’t Mr TakeMe, so I decided to try Jose again. I remembered him being good last time.

But this time…

This time.. he couldn’t kiss right. He smelled overwhelming like onions.. like it was pouring out of his pores. *hurl*

His place was hot. He was sweaty..  I was sweaty.. and while he’s decently endowed.. I began to miss Mr. TakeMe.

It was at that moment that I realized.. just how attached I was.  I wondered if Mr TakeMe had messaged me. I wondered what he was doing.. who he was doing.. was he home with his kid? I wondered when his kid would come over. I knew he had his kids this weekend, I just didn’t know from what time to what time.

I tried to focus back on the current situation.. but it was hot (turns out the AC broke) and the sex just wasn’t all that awesome.

Jose isn’t interested in dating me. He made that clear. But fucking, sure he was up for it. He wants to see me again.

Maybe. We’ll see how desperate I get.

Jun 152017
 

The other night, I was thinking about Mr TakeMe and I realized that our “relationship” is probably the best “relationship” I’ve had with a man in .. well.. since 2000?  And Mr TakeMe and I don’t really have a relationship. We are kinda friends? Mostly we just fuck.

How screwed up is it that a casual fucking relationship is better and more functional than anything I’ve had in 17 years?

TakeMe is not a saint. Don’t misunderstand me. He smokes cigarettes and weed, drinks (a lot), and is still hung up on his ex. We’re not monogamous. We barely know each other outside the bedroom.

But he doesn’t lie to me. He doesn’t belittle my illness.. he sure as hell doesn’t understand it, but he does whatever I need him to do without any fuss. After explaining the BJ situation, he doesn’t ask, doesn’t pressure me, and simply just acts like it doesn’t even exist. He doesn’t pout about it or make me feel guilty.

He spends time learning more about me. He doesn’t always remember it, but he tries to learn.  He’s introduced me to his BFF.  He’s not afraid to be seen with me in public or PDA.

He’s an asshole, but he’s honest about it. And I let him get away with too much.. But not so far as to be detrimental.. most of the time.

Tonight though.. tonight was him making sure I knew my place, without actually telling me.

Earlier this week, I got drunk. He was out of town. It was weekday and no one was out for sex.  And I wanted laid. I wanted laid by Mr. TakeMe. So I texted him, drunk. I told him that I’d enjoyed the other night which I hadn’t told him at the appropriate time.

He said thank you and asked me to tell him things like that because he was attention starved.

So I told him I really liked him a lot. He’d told me several times over the last few weeks just how much he liked me (a lot), but I’d never said anything. So drunk earlier this week, I did.

He didn’t message me the next day (despite being back in town).

He didn’t message me the day after.

So I assumed I fucked up. I texted him and told him so.

He replied that I was being silly and that all was good.

He came to the bar were I sing karaoke, and reassured me all was well, and then also told me he had arrangements to meet “a friend” in a half hour.

Half hour goes by and he’s leaving, so I text him that I want sex and am ready to go if he is.

He replies he has his thing with his friend but it won’t take long. That was 11:15pm.

12:15am He messages me “I lied. Sorry. We’re almost done.”

12:45am I reply, “Zzzz”

No reply.

1:15am I message him. “If you’re closing the bar, then I’m just going to go to bed.”

He replies back asking me to meet him at the bar he’s at. It’s like a block away so I go.

He’s there with his BFF. She’s ready to go. He keeps fiddle farting around.

1:50am.. Last call. I’m super pissy by this point. He’s completely oblivious or acting like it. He wants food. He wants to go to a diner where food will take at least an hour.  I talk him into fast food.

His BFF needs a ride home, but then hears about food and decides she wants to go too.

He dawdles around the bar for another 10 minutes.

2:05am. I leave the bar telling him to message me when he’s headed to his place. He looks me straight in the eye and says “Might just be cuddling tonight, no sex”  I am pretty sure I looked at him with eyes that would kill. I’d stayed up and even came back out to the bars for the SOLE purpose of getting laid.

2:25am I get his text.

2:35am He finally makes it to his place. He dawdles.

2:50am I take off my clothes and start to get into bed. He sees my breasts and suddenly no more dawdling.

*rolls eyes*

I waited around 4 hours for sex. 4 HOURS.

I will never tell him that I like him ever again.