Tag: sex

Why I Liked “The Girl I Like”

She was troubled.  She came from abuse and did things in her life that she regretted deeply and hates herself for.  She was an habitual liar, likely as a result of covering for horrible things since she was very young.  She went from calling and texting every day to giving no fucks at all with nothing in between, presumably because she’d found someone else she found more exciting.

 

But she was also the most fun and exciting person I’ve ever known.  She had an amazing sense of humour.  She felt everything so intensely, whether good or bad there were no buffers, nothing she held back.  When she was happy she was positively blissful, her joy was the most pure I’d ever known from anyone.  The closest I could describe it was like an excited puppy.

 

Of course, that meant her downers were just as severe – countless suicide attempts, self harm, drug addictions etc.

 

She was someone I could tell anything to without judgement, and who told me (but also pretty much anyone who asked) anything at all and knew I wouldn’t judge.  She knows more about me than anyone in this world except my ex, and I probably am in the top 3 or 5 for knowing all there is about her.

 

When she stopped calling or replying to my texts, I was torn.  How can you tell when someone’s pushing you away because they’re lost in their own tornado of depression versus when they’re genuinely no longer interested in being your friend?  I told myself that if it was the former and something happened, I’d never forgive myself.  So I kept worrying about her and texting and once in a while got a reply, many hours alter.  I got to speak to her for a grand total of 2 minutes and twenty seconds on the phone the other day, in which she told me everything’s going great and that she’d gotten some great news weeks before (but didn’t bother to share with me), then made a fishy-sounding excuse and went.

 

But still, I love her very much and wish her all the best.  She makes everyone else seem boring in comparison.  I just need to accept she doesn’t want to be friends anymore and move on.  And that hurts so much it’s unreal.

The emptiness of having no-one to love

I feel so empty.  I miss being in a relationship, of that knowledge that someone loves me and the strength it gives.  I miss sneaking up on someone in the kitchen, wrapping my arms around them and kissing them lovingly on the neck.  Feeling their breasts and running my hands down to their hips as they melt into my arms.

 

If you’ve got that feeling right now, hold on to it.  Don’t give it up for anything in the world.  All the drunk makeouts and meaningless sex (and I’d kill for even meaningless sex right now) in the world is nothing compared to it.

This might just be goodbye, girl that I love.

So the Girl I Love But Can Never Be With has been acting erratically.  She told me about a miscarriage.  She told me about a lowkey pill popping suicide attempt she made recently which she passed off as a badly upset stomach and swore me to secrecy.  She told me about major problems with her man cheating on her and huge fights they’ve had.  She told me she might lose custody of her child as a result.

So I text her later that day to make sure she’s okay, and I hear nothing back.  I’m worried sick, I text again the day after saying “please text back when you can so I know you and your baby are okay” and again hear nothing.

This morning she was active on Facebook.  She’s just ignoring me.

I think she’s just fucking with my head.  That she’s gotten bored of me and gone on to some other guy who’s now getting all her attention.  That’s what my gut is screaming, and what is screamed before we blew up and didn’t speak for two years.

I’m writing this in case we gets back in contact and spins some blatant bullshit that I gladly gobble up because I’m weak and want her to love me.  I want to remember this feeling next time it happens.  I’ve written but deleted several “Never mind, saw you active on Facebook you were just ignoring your friend who was worrying about you” texts.  I’m just going to leave it.  I’m done reaching out, and if I never hear from her again, that’s that.

We had some good memories and really fun times, and I wish her all the best because – with what I know about her and her situation that I know isn’t bullshit – she’s going to need it, especially if she surrounds herself with men and women who use her for sex, ply her with drugs and give no fucks whether she lives or dies like she used to.

Actually, scrap that.  I wish her child all the best, because he’s the one who’s really going to need it.

 

EDIT:  Sent that text the next day.  She told me she’s pushed everyone away and needs space while she processes all the shit that she’s going through.  I’m stepping back and giving her space – while getting myself used to the idea I’ll not hear from her again.

One Year Today

Today is one year since I was with my ex.  One year since we made love.

 

I barely remember our parting at the airport and I hate myself for that, except that it wasn’t as emotional as our previous goodbyes.  I remember thinking I wouldn’t be back after the fighting we’d done.

 

She did more for me than anyone.  She loved me so much.  I hate myself for falling out of love with her.  I hate myself for not being strong enough to deal with her problems and I hate myself for having feelings for someone else while I was hers.

 

You’ll never read this, but I hope you’re happy.  I hope you’re doing better than me.  I’m so sorry for hurting you.

 

I’m a slave to my heart

How do you stop your heart wanting what it wants?  I’m a slave to mine.  I didn’t choose to fall in love.  I remember it happening, I remember thinking to myself, “You’re looking forward to seeing this girl way too much” and thinking I had to keep that shit in check.

 

And I did, until she kissed me.  My mind opened and exploded.  Every rule in life suddenly seemed like it was optional and there was a whole new world of possibility.  It was a huge moment, far more significant in my life than she will ever know or understand.

 

I was with my now-ex when she kissed me.  I’d never cheated before, I never planned to.  I’d never been in a situation where more than one person desired me at a time.  I realized I could cheat if I wanted to.  Ultimately I’ve realized I can’t be as bad as I wish I could be, I’m not cut out to (then again, at the time she made that choice for me.  If she wanted to go further there’s no doubt I would have, especially in the euphoric state I was in at the time) But I’ll never forget that feeling of being on top of the world, feeling like a god who could do whatever I wanted.  I know why people cheat – because at the time it feels damn good, and if you can deal with the guilt you’re sorted.  I can’t.  I broke up with my now ex for the first time the day after she kissed me.  My friend decided she didn’t want to go further and eventually me and my now-ex reconciled.

 

And here we are, two years later reconnected and friends again after a long falling-out.  And I love her.  I can’t help it.  She doesn’t love me, I’m just a close friend to keep her company and chat to when she’s lonely but who doesn’t exist outside of those parameters.   At least, I don’t think I do.

 

She never played by any rules.  She didn’t and doesn’t care that I’m twice her age (that said, my ex was twice my age… yes I realize how fucked up this all sounds).  She did things that amazed and horrified me – the latter leading to various arguments that cost me her friendship for two years.  It’s because of her impact on me, this realization that rules aren’t set in stone, that I kissed a guy.  That I may have sex with a guy.  That I may experiment with drugs when they’re offered me again.

 

But I realized something else two days ago.  Her mental health isn’t good.  At all.  She’s suffered dearly for some of her choices.  She’s gone from someone widely loved and popular to someone with very few friends.  She’s damaged and jaded.  The balance of her friends liked her for what she did rather than for who she was, and as soon as she stopped, they stopped caring.  This girl who opened my mind and changed my life with one kiss has suffered dearly for the no-rules lifestyle I came to envy so much.

 

All that said, I’m happier since we reconnected.  Since I broke up with my ex, my soul felt empty, my depression overwhelmed me I was drowning.  I planned my suicide twice (never acted on it though, for reasons explained in my early posts) but now it’s like I have a purpose in life again – to make sure this girl gets through her dark patch and finds happiness again.  I know it’s going to be happiness with another man and I’ll be forgotten again.

 

But until then, I’m nowhere near great but I’m better.

I miss happiness so much

A year ago, I went back to stay with my (then) girlfriend in the US for two months.  Our relationship had been crumbling for awhile but ultimately it was there and with her that I’d been the happiest in my life, and my depression was spiralling out of control.

 

So I went back, and did all the things that made me so happy before.

 

Only this time, I didn’t feel a thing.

 

I remember laying with her in bed, once the most satisfying and amazing feeling ever, and being frustrated that I wasn’t feeling the same way.  We went to NYC and beyond a bunch times and saw amazing things, expensive things and I didn’t feel the blissful joy I used to.  I was numb.

 

To put it another way, if the good feelings used to be the equivalent of lying naked entangled with your loved one after amazing sex, they were now holding hands in thick gloves outdoors in the middle of freezing winter.  There’s a little something there, but it’s not the feeling I used to have.

 

And all the bad feelings I was experiencing every day were as crystal clear and sharp as ever.

 

And worse, she could tell and was afraid she was losing me.  And she was trying so hard.  And that broke my heart and I didn’t know what to do but try to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault.

 

We broke up not long after I got back to England.

 

She’d be absolutely horrified to know the highlight of my life now is drunkenly making out with some guy I barely know in an underpass right before he snorts coke, or being slightly too close to a girl half my age and risking destroying her new family if I step an inch too far.

 

There is no light on the dark side of me.

“The more you yell, the gayer I get!” and my one smooth move

So I spent the night drinking on an empty stomach while playing board games with a group of friends, one of whom was a guy I met exactly once before – close to a year ago, while the most drunk I’ve ever been in my life.  He said I was attractive and –just like that– I made out with a guy for the first time ever after a life of exactly zero gay thoughts.  Reminder: I’m in my 30’s.

 

Back to last night: Knowing I was working the next day, my friends were kind enough to kick me the fuck out so I could get home and get some sleep.  He left at the same time and we decided to walk back together instead of taking the offered taxi.  We’re both pretty fucked up so we’re walking arm in arm and are chatting.  And we walk through a park, where a group of teenagers start yelling “faggots!” and similar generic anti-gay stuff.  My memory is a little hazy, but I distinctly recall turning around and yelling, “The more you yell, the gayer I get!” and something about sucking his dick if they didn’t shut up.  And we went from linked arms to holding hands just to wind them up even more.

 

It’s utterly surreal and darkly amusing to be the target of homophobic remarks as an adult for actually acting gay, as opposed to when I was a teenager and it was just the go-to insult everyone used at school (it was a much less enlightened time)

 

I also made the smoothest move of my life, while my friend was about to indulge in his recreational drug of choice in a underpass (yes, this is a classy story about classy people doing classy things).  A couple and their dog rather suddenly came through and just as my friend was about to lose his shit, I deftly moved in and kissed him.  They awkwardly walked past (the rather embarrassed woman saying “Not looking!  Not looking!”) and didn’t at all notice the drug paraphernalia he was holding.

 

“That was a really good idea.” He said.

 

I got another kiss goodnight when we got to his place.  And this morning I woke up without a hangover.  Nice.