I Can’t Be Bad

For years I’ve wanted to say, “fuck it!”, ignore my conscience and just do whatever I want.  From not fucking a girl who gets drunk and throws herself at me (see earlier entry) to not fucking the girl I’m secretly in love with (and recently just found out is into the same fucked-up shit as me, see earlier entry) because I don’t want to risk breaking up her new family and have her baby grow up without a father I’d had enough.  I hoped I could just turn heel like a WWE wrestler, stop giving any fucks and take what I wanted, when I wanted.


But no.


Before I say the next bit, let me just preface with:  EVEN HYPOTHETICAL “BAD” DOORMAT DAN WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THIS.  My version of being bad is sleeping with women already in relationships, and not giving a shit about the consequences to them.  Cheating on women I’m in relationships with.  Not turning down drunk women throwing themselves at me.  You know, like all my friends and most of the people I know.


I’ve actually envied a man who hit, raped, cheated on and abused women after a long screaming argument on the phone with one of his victims, who insisted she could change him even after her mother couldn’t and they were involved for a decade.  Yes, you heard that right.  The disgusting cunt was cheating on the mother with her teenage daughter a third of his age.  If there was anyone on this planet I could kill and get away with it, it’d be him.  Years later, he’s still somehow with the mother, the daughter has thankfully moved away but she’s damaged from what happened.  Why does he get whatever he wants, get away with it, somehow not get sent to jail and even years later still gets to fuck and beat the mother?  It breaks my heart.  It makes me feel empty and like there’s no point to anything.


He got whatever he wanted and the women he hit or forced himself upon came back to him again and again.  They fucking begged for it.  They defended him.  He was “dreamy” and “gorgeous”.  They fucking stopped being my friend because I got mad and told them what I thought of their abuser for the millionth time after one of them came to me crying because he’d roughed her up.  They were good people who should have known better and it tore me to shreds seeing them suffer over and over.


My biggest turn on for sex is someone giving themselves to me.  Being wanted is what makes me hard.  I can be as rough as someone wants, but always and only with full consent of that person.


So back to my aborted heel turn, even after many drinks I couldn’t ask my friend (the one who got drunk and naked weeks ago) to fuck me.  I couldn’t pressure my best friend into sex even though I’m pretty sure she’d say yes (random aside: She got changed in front of me yesterday, no fucks given.  Oh my god she’s beautiful).  I can’t do it.  I hoped if I drank enough I’d take that one biggest and most difficult first step, and the rest would come easily.  Part of me thinks I’m weak and a failure, and another part thinks it’s a good thing.  But even if it’s a good thing, to what end?  I’m still not getting sex, the people who are are total assholes and I don’t believe in any god or afterlife, so I’m not accumulating any “heaven points” for being a good boy.


So is being good an end unto itself?  I’m not proud of not getting what I want.  I’m frustrated.  People like me, but they all move on to other people.  I’m boring.  But I guess it’s my calling.


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