I find a lot of emotions behind feedback from my blog posts. Sometimes, people know exactly when posts are about them. This can be troubling if they are offended by it. I have had it happen a few times. I generally don't lie (or well) so if you ask me flat out in person... If I don't want to offend you, then I may *try* to lie. It's usually pretty obvious so my tone will be honest, but I will choose my words carefully. If you ask me via text- then that shit will be so very real. I will lay it on you because I will be able to write it out thoughtfully (hopefully, kindly as well). If you assume a post is about you- it probably isn't. Honestly. I spent the last year flipping between two different people to be angry at. I spent the last year falling in love with one. So, if we haven't had sex in the last 10+ years then pretty much none of these posts are about you. Just generally speaking. I have spent a little more time working through feelings on recent posts rather than using my imagination. For this reason, some posts in the last few months have been about a lot of people I know. Again, if you want to know for sure, just text me. I'll be honest. If you don't care then that works. I got my peace out and I'm good so... yeah. If you need clarification or closure, just send me a message. This was just a thought that came from someone last night via text asking me about a Facebook meme. To clarify for everyone, the red flags ex was about my ex husband and the person that I don't want to be with doesn't have any issues with texting, but I do think the reason I don't want to be with him is just as petty. I only want to be with one man and he told me he doesn't want to be with me. It doesn't stop those feelings from happening and as a result, I need time. Jury is out on whether it is forever or just for now. I wonder if I will just be someone who never gets married again or even tries again. I'll just be there for myself and always know what it felt like to have that person that made me want to be a better person for knowing them. Truly. I am a bit of a lost cause, I think. I had a really strong love for my ex-husband and I didn't think anyone would be able to top that or make me forget or even make me feel different things.
I wrote a few pieces that were confusing to even me. When I reread some of the ones from last year when I was angry and sad I find myself flipping back and forth (sometimes in one sentence) between two people. I know who it was about and I got those feelings out and that matters to me. I wrote a lot of posts about finding myself and contradictions of falling or holding back. I wrote a lot about insecurity. It is interesting to me, so I'll note it here, no one made me insecure. The person I kept writing about and being confused about, the one that reminded me of so many things I needed to work on that I actually shut down, they never said anything to make me feel insecure. It took me a long time (over a year) to figure out how I even felt about them. There were a lot of feelings hanging around and I couldn't sort them fast enough. The processing rate in my brain was not able to handle the amount of bullshit coming my way and then to top it all off- feelings that I never had before. Yes. Never. Had. Before. Similar, sure. But, never like that. I can tell you that every best friend I've ever had gave me a feeling of recognition when we got to talking. I would relate to them and they to me. It felt like a soulmate/sibling connection when I would meet people that became my best friends. I felt something similar the day that I saw this person. I saw him and our eyes met and I just felt like I knew him. I can only try to explain this and I'll admit- I sound fucking insane. I can't make this shit up. Seriously. We looked at each other and it was weird. We recognized each other and it was like- well, yeah, we've always known each other, duh. I thought about it after. I kept thinking, did we actually ever meet before though? I know that the name has been in my family for years, but did we actually ever talk to each other? Were we ever in the same room? Or did we just keep passing each other in time?I remembered meeting him as a kid, probably 13 or 14. I think he said something to me and I didn't know how to take him. He triggered something in me and I got red in the face and just didn't respond. I remember thinking, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's funny now, but as a young teenager, I was freaked the fuck out. The next few times I saw him, I was glad to see him. He asked me questions. We sat near each other a lot. It seemed sometimes like there was a string tying us together and he would frequently try to cut it. I wrote about it and said it felt like we were magnets. There would be times that no words were said. I felt him and I could understand him. On the phone I would feel him and understand his feelings. Whether I wanted to admit what I felt or not. I could tell he was going through insecurity as well and I would just be quiet. Just like he was for me. I wouldn't know what to say to me just like he didn't know how to validate me. We just avoided it.
I did eventually get out how I felt, but probably not before I fucked some things up. I, admittedly, played some games. I didn't realize what they were until I was done playing them, however. I suppose that is just how that works sometimes. You get used to being in toxic relationships that eventually you realize your part in them. (Or, I hope you do, dear reader.) I spent some time talking things out in front of people who may have told him. At first, it was sort of a denial thing. I just tried to occupy my time with other interested parties because I didn't want to admit how I felt about him. He kept me at a distance and I should have had the self preservation to say no to him than to keep letting him toy with my heart. At the time, I was hurt and I needed comfort and through him, I was growing. I grew SO MUCH. I never wanted to say or do anything to purposely hurt him. So, I did my best to keep myself occupied. I feel like it could have backfired on me, potentially, but either way, I talked to people and because I am a romantic, would allow my brain to take me on adventures. At the end of the conversation, the day, the fantasy, I always had the same conclusion. The thought of letting him go brought me physical pain. I would feel pain. A heartbreak like I had never felt before. Like a piece of me was being torn out. That was a NEW feeling. I had been heartbroken. I had been devastated. This was different. Deeper.I let myself feel it occasionally, when the feelings for him would become overwhelming because of external things I was also dealing with. Max would have a bad week at school and work would be busy and someone would cut me off in traffic and I would try to block him out of my heart and I would burst into tears. The thought of him not being in my life was unbearable. Out there, there is a woman who took this man for granted. That would kill me also.
He was flawed. He is flawed. People would point this out to me. Yes, I know. I used to be so head over heels for my ex-husband that I thought his mouth breathing was cute. I cannot tell you why but it was different. I allowed him to be himself. I didn't try to fix him. I didn't do anything to subtly make him feel bad for being himself. If I realized he felt that way then I would clarify. Quit for yourself. Be yourself. Do what makes you happy. If you want to do that, then do it. He encouraged me to be healthy but never made it an ultimatum and I did the same. One day he came over after work and told me that his co-worker pulled him aside to say that he seemed really happy and he high-fived me and thanked me. I high-fived him back, stunned. Was he sure? Was it me making him happy? Or, did he just feel like finally he could be himself around someone? I felt the same way. Until, a mutual person in our lives started telling me things that I felt were said/experienced in confidant. (This is where the admitted games came into play because I felt insecure and hurt so I would purposely say things to see if they would reach down the grapevine and how he would react. Usually, he would casually ask about certain things and I was always honest with him. This wasn't conscious or done maliciously. I realized it later.) He would bring up things as if they had discussed it. I tried ignoring it, but it was too much. I got incredibly insecure. I began to work on some things while I felt other things were just pokes at old wounds. I don't know the context of the conversations. Maybe it was all just a coincidence. It didn't seem that way. My insecurities caused me to shut down. I didn't want to open up all the way. Whenever I got to the point where I was ready to fall for him hard- he would push me away. Eventually, I stopped reaching out when I wanted to and he wouldn't either.
It pains me still to think about because of the potential there. There was so much love wasted. I hate to say wasted because I don't really feel that way. I don't feel like my time was wasted. It was an interim to where I am now. It was a bridge to a better place. Where I feel like I am able to grow and be myself and be confident in this new person. The new old me. It pains me to think that my feelings may have been wasted. I just was so ready to be the best me for him that I kept giving it to myself and others instead. He didn't want it. I still did it in small doses. I told him once that I didn't think he could handle me and I still believe that. I don't think he can handle all of me. He got bits here and there, but I was always distant at the end. Because, I wanted to fall in. I wanted to go all in, but I was scared. I was scared he wouldn't go in after me. I was hurt that he wouldn't be everything I wanted right then and there- even though we both were sort of playing a game where neither of us would speak up and just eventually fade away.
It feels like unfinished business. I can only try to explain. I feel like I opened up a book and then lost the only copy. I will always wonder how the book ends. Does it end? I suppose it does when you lose the story.
I have a special ability to be very confusing.
It comes with being me. I try my best to explain myself. Sometimes, I don't have enough words. Feelings are hard to explain. You just feel them. I can only give so much description because these feelings are new and I never felt them before so there aren't any words for them. Maybe I should look up some German to help me. I felt mutual respect with him. I felt things stir up from deep inside. Things that he didn't put there. Things that I recognized that he did not put there. Things that he helped me sort out. I would start unpacking and he was just there. He had a hand on my back. I needed to do it alone and I always felt like when I needed him, he wouldn't respond. Then, I would realize how much I could do on my own. When he seemed like he was asking me for something that he could do himself, I began saying nothing. Normally, I would want to jump in and help and fix. No. I didn't do that for him. I tried and he said no thanks. He grew up. A lot. Someone pulled me aside and told me that they never saw him in the last decade act this way. I thought, then why won't he just go all in with me?It got to that point. The one that I understand to be the worst fucking thing. Which is that we helped each other as much as we could and now... Now, we can't grow anymore like this. Because, the feelings are just at the door. Waiting to come in. I opened the dang door anyways. I knew it was stupid. I did it anyways.
Now, as anyone who reads my posts, I go back and forth between saying, fuck it. If it was real, then we shall meet again, and what kind of dick strings me along like this? He clearly doesn't deserve me if he would treat me this way.
I've been trying to combine the two into a better version which is: It will sort itself out eventually. I just gotta keep moving forward.
My biggest issue about the unknown ahead is that I annoyingly don't want anyone else. At this point, I would have jumped into a new relationship. I would have tried to go out and find someone else to occupy my time. I end up lucking out at some point with someone who I connect with and we get serious by now. I suppose I have grown in that sense. I have made it clear that I don't want anything more than friendship from any interested parties. I'm not ready. My heart still hurts. I am not sure that it won't stop hurting. I read somewhere that it takes 1/10th of the time of a relationship to get over one. So for my ten year relationship that ended in divorce- that should have taken me about a year to get over. I would say that is fairly accurate. I probably still need some time occasionally since it was so toxic that old patterns resurface sometimes. It's less frequent and less energy gets put into it each time. At this point, it is merely, wow he irritates me. Then I go on about my day. So for a friendship that lasted about a year and a half- that should only take me about two months to get over. I still feel like he may just show up like nothing happened. I still feel like I want to write him movie quotes and draw stupid shit. I want to call him. I don't. I let it go. I can't be the only person in a friendship that reaches out. That isn't a friendship. That is heartache. Wow, he also irritates me.
Post titles:
I generally get inspired about songs or lyrics. Most of the titles of my blog posts are those. This one is a song called Sundress by A$AP Rocky. I discovered this song because it happens to be someone's favorite artist so I looked up what the most popular songs were and this paired with Potato Salad resonated with me. I think Tyler, the Creator has relatable lyrics. Sundress has samples from Tame Impala's song, Why Won't You Make Up Your Mind? I find this hilarious in so many ways. I quote that song a lot. I quote Tame Impala a lot. They are one of my favorite artists. Probably my favorite since I can say I love all of their songs. Why won't you make up your mind, give me a sign, am I wasting my time, living in my head, you'll be sorry when, I make up mine instead. Relatable.
So, I spent a lot of time writing about this man who kept telling me that he didn't want anything serious from me but yet his actions would come across very serious and a lot of people are probably left wondering, why is this called The Wrong Man if you think he's so right for you?Well, Karen, the song is actually about a man who lost his partner to another man and he can see how wrong that dude is for her(?) and I related to this for a few reasons. The first run through I pictured this is how my ex husband felt. Then I pictured this is how the guy I have a crush on feels about his ex. Then I wondered if this guy is the wrong man or not and I didn't have an answer. I still don't. Sorry, I'm confusing. Oh, well. I feel like generally speaking, I should think he's the wrong man and in my gut I feel like he is the right man and I think the irony alone is enough to make me laugh and then stare. And then cry a bit. He shows up in my dreams, I see his car everywhere. I see reminders of him constantly. It is annoying. Sometimes, I hate it and I get sad. Sometimes, I encourage it and it makes me warm. Mostly, I just say, okay, and try to move on with my day. What the fuck else should I do?
I wrote a post called Run, Rabbit, Run about what I should say to myself and he called me and asked if it was about him. I bit my tongue and started to cry. He was angry with me. I tried NOT to cry, which barely worked. I wrote it because I was thinking about him but also myself. I flopped back and forth. He was half right and I partially lied. I said it wasn't about him, but it kind of was...? I started it out being angry at him and then I realized it was all the things I needed to hear as well. I needed to love myself and stop holding myself back from my true potential. I need to do art and put myself out there- step out of my comfort zone. Stop slouching and be proud to be me. I find it ironic that it made him want to run. I am the rabbit. I like to run away from the things I fear. I like to hide and not confront. I like to be scared of the future and blend in with my surroundings. I am the fucking rabbit, you guys. I think it is ironic that he had such a strong reaction to that post in particular. What about it made him get so upset? Is it that I said, I love you? Because, if so, what the hell? You can't tell someone not to love you. Especially, someone like me. I love people. I mean, I hate people haha, but if I go out of my way to get to know someone, I love them. I see a bond and I work on it. If I feel like someone is taking advantage of that love then that makes me reconsider it, but I just am that way. Don't fuck around with someone like me, stars in my eyes, rose colored glasses view of the world, who just tries to inspire and help people, who will mom the fuck out of you because I LIKE doing it, don't fuck around with me or people like me if you don't want love. Because, that's what you'll fucking get. I give pure, beautiful love. If you feel something different than love from me then you fucked it up with me. I don't just turn sour overnight, either. It takes time and a lot of shitty things to make me not want to care about someone anymore. I will make excuses for you for a long time before it turns to hate. So, once I start complaining- it all spills out like a waterfall. It'll be a bunch of droplets from all the time I have known you. I am getting better at just trusting my gut right away with people and not bothering to get to know someone too deep if I feel that twinge that says, they are not telling the truth.My point is, I still wonder what exactly it was that made him angry about that post in particular. He ended the conversation with telling me not to stop writing. Well. Thank you, but I did stop for awhile because I was so fucking scared to lose him as a friend because of accidentally hurting him. That is the type of person I fucking am. I was scared to lose a friend so I stopped doing something I love doing because it hurt him. Again, don't fuck around with me if you are a dick. I just can't deal, today haha! Can you tell by all the swearing?
I had some time to process and some time to rethink some things. I think I'm having a day where I just feel like, fuck it.
I have a few reservations about what I need to write about next. Mostly, because I am very private. I am an open book if you ask the right questions. I tend to be very reclusive and if someone is lucky enough to get close enough to take my pants off, then generally, you are in for a treat because I do not act like I do around other people, in that instance. I do feel like I have a lot to say about what has happened to me throughout my life and I need to write it out to connect some things because that is how my brain works. I work best with flowing thoughts that take me somewhere else. Sometimes, the past, sometimes the present, sometimes the future. I jump around a lot in my mind so writing it down helps me see patterns that I don't understand when it's dancing around in my head. So. Here I go.
I went through a whole pack of gum this week. At least. I need to get these things out. I am having trouble with it because I feel vulnerable and I don't like to feel vulnerable. I guess I'll start there. I will get very vulnerable with someone if I'm interested. It takes a lot of time and patience, but if you want me, keep coming at me. I will eventually open up. If I cry around you, you are in. If I kiss your cheek, you are so fucking in with me. I am incredibly intimate. I like to look deep into eyes and feel your fucking soul. I will read you inside and out. I will memorize freckles on your hands, moles on the back of your head, the shape of your broken finger. If you didn't think I noticed, you are wrong. I saw you do that. I saw you and I remember now. I don't have any use for this information. I just do it anyways. I remember every man I have been with. I know how they look naked, still. I remember what their orgasm face looks like. I know what every penis I have ever seen looks like. I am not kidding. I am taking this opportunity to say, I have a list in my mind of the best and worst looking dicks and they are not the same as the most statisfying or the ones where I have climaxed from. Those lists are different. I will just squash any bullshit that dudes have about their dicks. Some women care about size, gerth, and such, but really, it comes down to how you use it. If you think your dick is the shit because it's big and you're used to women sliding on that thing and then cumming instantly, then you probably didn't get too far with me. Confidence is important but I am not a huge person so I tend to like average sized dicks that are used properly. My first boyfriend was one of the smallest dicks I ever saw and he was also at the top of the best looking dicks I ever saw and at the top of the best orgasm list. So, just because you have a big dick doesn't mean you are the shit and just because your dick is small doesn't mean that you can't make a woman cum. One of the ugliest dicks I ever saw was also one of the best. It just really depends on who wields the sword, so to speak. I don't know how this isn't common knowledge. Ah, well.
The same rings true for dicks I want to suck. If your dick is ugly, I will most likely not want to put that thing in my mouth, but if I love you or you are a good person, I will do that for you. I just maybe will be bored and not initiate. If you have the best looking dick I ever saw, and you are an asshole, then I will not initiate. There are two men that I have been with that I wanted to give head to. Coincidentally, the first and last crushes I had. I put my first boyfriend in a lot of my stories. I just adore him. He got weird and annoying as an adult but as teenagers, we shared something really wonderful and anyways, I just loved his dick haha! TRUTH. He was at the top of all my dick adoration lists before this last dude. So, the title moves to this guy who doesn't want to date me. COOL BEANS. I am glad I had an intimate relationship with his penis. It is beautiful. Fucking perfect, honestly. Perfect size and shape and he knew what the fuck to do with it. I would have no problem being on that thing 3 times in a day. I wanted to just stare at it. It is seriously beautiful. Which leads me to the next point...
Generally, I use this information to be in the moment before climax and that is just how I am. I get off on love and how their skin feels against the inside of my upper arm, the smell of their hair, just all of it. I feel like you get what I am saying here. Sorry to put him on blast, but my ex husband was not a lover. He fucking wasn't. I think maybe we had sex once or twice where it felt loving. Maybe. It was always grunty and just... someone cum or whatever so we can move on to the next move. It was robotic and boring. I would look at him during sex and see that he was bored. Sometimes, the only way to get off was to, well, I'd just picture someone else. Louis C.K. came up once. I dunno why. He just. Seems like... similar enough in body shape but with kinder eyes. I dunno. I like Irishmen. Fuck. This is... fun. My point is, it was a means to an end. Having sex with him came up with I just really felt like I needed his dick. Honestly. It didn't create a bond between us. Cuddling with him was similar. He would cuddle with me and then roll over and go to sleep after a certain amount of time. I would usually just lay there and listen to him snore in my ear and be annoyed. He was loud and obnoxious. I liked to be held by him and I'm not saying I had no love for him. It just always felt... weird. Like it wasn't genuine...? I dunno how else to describe it. I felt like after so many years, we drifted apart and he just didn't care to try. He still made the motions. So it seemed like things were okay. Ug. So coming from a place where my body went through a LOT of trauma through childbirth and just from sexual abuse in my past- I had become closed off. However, I did not realize this. I felt like I was missing a piece a lot of things by the end of my marriage, but what? I dunno. Just too many to understand. He just wanted to argue constantly and he knew how to press my buttons and I would just let him. I would just bicker and bitch and it just eventually wore me down to nothing. My best friend likes to point out that sex is very important to me. It is true. It is so very important. Because, I don't like to be intimate with people without a lot of love and a big base. Sometimes, I will choose a sexual partner because I enjoy getting dick, I'll be blunt haha. I like dick so sometimes I will sleep with someone to feel a dick in me. I crave that feeling. But, that's sex. It's different. So although being intimate is technically sex, sex is not being intimate. So, yes and no. Sex is NOT important to me. Being intimate is very important to me. If I'm lucky enough to find someone who wants to be passionate with me, then I will just fucking fall head over heels. I love to express my love in that way. To show someone that they are the only person I have ever been with in that way- because being intimate is very much a new experience with different people. You learn what they like and they learn what I like and it's a mesh of things, feeling the moment and enjoying someone's body in that way is just.... Intimate.
I'm showing her love, she's been giving me sex. This line from Hurt Feelings by Mac Miller. I heard that line and I thought, yeah, man. Exactly. I don't like to feel like I am putting my body out there for touching and getting no love in return. Because, if you touch my body like that, I will love you. So, this damn man, putting his hands on me from DAY ONE like I've never been touched for over a decade and in my mind I said, fuck. I wanted sex. I did not get that. It was different.Then I was thinking, I have zero body confidence anymore. My stomach is weird, never was great, but after two kids there's a scar and stretch marks and extra flab that just sort of hangs out. It sucks. Where my vagina used to be cute and sweet, it is now huge and weird. Having kids does some shit to your body. This dude wanted to be down there, all the fucking time. I was just laying there, eyes closed, wondering what the fuck I am supposed to do about all this. I wanted him. So badly. Still do, fucking hell. I feel like he has been spending the last decade practicing and I have not. I have spent a decade slowly closing off completely. He unlocked so many things inside me. He made me vulnerable in ways that I wasn't ready or prepared for and then I was triggered. I had an episode of PTSD which is scary and feels like dying. I wrote about it. It's called PTSD and pretty much everything is true. I changed some insignificant things. The truth there is that I was having sex which was more like sex than intimacy and it triggered me. I panicked and he kissed me so gently and grabbed my hand I just came back. He didn't cause that pain in me. He found it and made it softer. He replaced memories I had that were tragic and horrible. He replaced them with intimacy and love and consent. I was not kidding when I said his face was down in my vagina more in a day than in the last decade of my life. It triggered things in me. I worked through them as best as I could. I wrote about that in several pieces. There was an interesting turn of events that happened when he asked me if I climaxed and very much had no idea. I felt like yes and no at the same time....? I did some research and found out that there are four different types of orgasms and I had experienced all four types throughout my life. However, the clitoral orgasm for me was never on it's own and I had actually never experienced it as such. I had felt it paired with g-spot orgasm which is my favorite type. I feel like there have been times and places and people for the other two orgasms. This dude made me feel something I had never fucking felt before and I laugh about it. Seriously, belly laughs. I never just exeperienced a clitoral orgasm as a stand alone thing. So he's telling me, sounds like you came to me. I was thinking, well that was cool and awesome and different but not the one I am used to or feel satisfied by. So that made things weird. I feel like if he could last long enough doing the same move for a few minutes then the other ones would be so very easy to get to. I did get to all three of them at some point with him. He probably has no idea either way. I can count the other orgasms he gave me on one hand. Yes. Not many. But he sure was good at that one orgasm that I don't really care about. Really good at it. Great job.
I think this lead to a lot of insecurity on his end. I didn't try to hard to help him figure it out either. I kept thinking that if he really wanted to get me somewhere I wanted to go then he would. I think that applies to everything about the relationship. He didn't really want me more than for what it was and that was felt. It hurts my heart and I feel it. He opened up so many things that I had closed off and I am so very grateful for it all. The part that he severely lacked in was the commitment. He didn't want to commit. I knew this. I kept trying anyways. I really don't know if I regret it or not. I needed him in all that time and he showed me a lot of things I didn't see. I really appreciate and respect him for all that. I hate him, just a little, for not wanting more. But, I respect his decision. For this, I do not know if I will try with anyone else ever again. Truly. I experienced things and I am good. That is just funny of me to read this and think this way. I feel like he healed my heart and never asked for anything so he didn't take anything from me. He left me in a better state in all ways than when he came into my life. How do you hate someone like that? How do you get over someone like that? Fuck.
The last time we had sex he was watching my face, looking into my eyes and I caught him. It felt like curiosity and also that he loved me. I don't know which part was worse for him. That he desperately wanted to satisfy me to the point he was hard on himself (which is asinine- I really enjoyed being with him, just wanted him to spend 2-3 more minutes in one place so I could be satisfied, thanks) or was it that he didn't want to have feelings for me? Or just that he didn't feel good enough? Or maybe I just misinterpreted, but I doubt it. I may ignore how people feel because they are telling me something different than they are feeling, but I can tell how they feel. I won't interrogate someone who wants to tell me they don't want more even if I can feel that love. Either way, it was the best and worst and I just laugh at all the irony. I guess really, it doesn't matter because clearly we both were not ready for what was between us. Either way, we can't do more for each other than what was done. I wanted to move forward and I was prepared to be more intimate, give more love, grow with him- he doesn't want that. So. My heart just fucking hurts when I think about it and if I think about trying again. I hope I'm wrong and I try again in the future because I feel like I deserve a happy ending. Maybe my happy ending is just being alone. I don't know. Life doesn't work like that.
I spent a long time researching psychology websites to try to figure out what even happened between us. Other people find it so simple, he's just not that into you. But, that is just the stuff people saw. The intimacy we had (not just sex) was just more than what I can feasibly describe. It was like finding someone I had lost long ago that I didn't remember or know. A stranger that felt like home. Now, I feel like I have a piece of home with me all the time. I wish I could be closer. Feel that more. But, I have what I have. I have had relationships that I wasn't that into someone and vice versa. It was different.Not a normal situation. Not a normal relationship. It was a weird in between thing that was more in some ways and less in others. We shared weird things in common and felt each other's feelings. He knew what I meant with few words. I knew how he felt without him saying anything at all. Weird, good bond. 10/10 Highly Recommend.
Well. That escalated quickly.
I wrote a few pieces that were confusing to even me. When I reread some of the ones from last year when I was angry and sad I find myself flipping back and forth (sometimes in one sentence) between two people. I know who it was about and I got those feelings out and that matters to me. I wrote a lot of posts about finding myself and contradictions of falling or holding back. I wrote a lot about insecurity. It is interesting to me, so I'll note it here, no one made me insecure. The person I kept writing about and being confused about, the one that reminded me of so many things I needed to work on that I actually shut down, they never said anything to make me feel insecure. It took me a long time (over a year) to figure out how I even felt about them. There were a lot of feelings hanging around and I couldn't sort them fast enough. The processing rate in my brain was not able to handle the amount of bullshit coming my way and then to top it all off- feelings that I never had before. Yes. Never. Had. Before. Similar, sure. But, never like that. I can tell you that every best friend I've ever had gave me a feeling of recognition when we got to talking. I would relate to them and they to me. It felt like a soulmate/sibling connection when I would meet people that became my best friends. I felt something similar the day that I saw this person. I saw him and our eyes met and I just felt like I knew him. I can only try to explain this and I'll admit- I sound fucking insane. I can't make this shit up. Seriously. We looked at each other and it was weird. We recognized each other and it was like- well, yeah, we've always known each other, duh. I thought about it after. I kept thinking, did we actually ever meet before though? I know that the name has been in my family for years, but did we actually ever talk to each other? Were we ever in the same room? Or did we just keep passing each other in time?I remembered meeting him as a kid, probably 13 or 14. I think he said something to me and I didn't know how to take him. He triggered something in me and I got red in the face and just didn't respond. I remember thinking, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's funny now, but as a young teenager, I was freaked the fuck out. The next few times I saw him, I was glad to see him. He asked me questions. We sat near each other a lot. It seemed sometimes like there was a string tying us together and he would frequently try to cut it. I wrote about it and said it felt like we were magnets. There would be times that no words were said. I felt him and I could understand him. On the phone I would feel him and understand his feelings. Whether I wanted to admit what I felt or not. I could tell he was going through insecurity as well and I would just be quiet. Just like he was for me. I wouldn't know what to say to me just like he didn't know how to validate me. We just avoided it.
I did eventually get out how I felt, but probably not before I fucked some things up. I, admittedly, played some games. I didn't realize what they were until I was done playing them, however. I suppose that is just how that works sometimes. You get used to being in toxic relationships that eventually you realize your part in them. (Or, I hope you do, dear reader.) I spent some time talking things out in front of people who may have told him. At first, it was sort of a denial thing. I just tried to occupy my time with other interested parties because I didn't want to admit how I felt about him. He kept me at a distance and I should have had the self preservation to say no to him than to keep letting him toy with my heart. At the time, I was hurt and I needed comfort and through him, I was growing. I grew SO MUCH. I never wanted to say or do anything to purposely hurt him. So, I did my best to keep myself occupied. I feel like it could have backfired on me, potentially, but either way, I talked to people and because I am a romantic, would allow my brain to take me on adventures. At the end of the conversation, the day, the fantasy, I always had the same conclusion. The thought of letting him go brought me physical pain. I would feel pain. A heartbreak like I had never felt before. Like a piece of me was being torn out. That was a NEW feeling. I had been heartbroken. I had been devastated. This was different. Deeper.I let myself feel it occasionally, when the feelings for him would become overwhelming because of external things I was also dealing with. Max would have a bad week at school and work would be busy and someone would cut me off in traffic and I would try to block him out of my heart and I would burst into tears. The thought of him not being in my life was unbearable. Out there, there is a woman who took this man for granted. That would kill me also.
He was flawed. He is flawed. People would point this out to me. Yes, I know. I used to be so head over heels for my ex-husband that I thought his mouth breathing was cute. I cannot tell you why but it was different. I allowed him to be himself. I didn't try to fix him. I didn't do anything to subtly make him feel bad for being himself. If I realized he felt that way then I would clarify. Quit for yourself. Be yourself. Do what makes you happy. If you want to do that, then do it. He encouraged me to be healthy but never made it an ultimatum and I did the same. One day he came over after work and told me that his co-worker pulled him aside to say that he seemed really happy and he high-fived me and thanked me. I high-fived him back, stunned. Was he sure? Was it me making him happy? Or, did he just feel like finally he could be himself around someone? I felt the same way. Until, a mutual person in our lives started telling me things that I felt were said/experienced in confidant. (This is where the admitted games came into play because I felt insecure and hurt so I would purposely say things to see if they would reach down the grapevine and how he would react. Usually, he would casually ask about certain things and I was always honest with him. This wasn't conscious or done maliciously. I realized it later.) He would bring up things as if they had discussed it. I tried ignoring it, but it was too much. I got incredibly insecure. I began to work on some things while I felt other things were just pokes at old wounds. I don't know the context of the conversations. Maybe it was all just a coincidence. It didn't seem that way. My insecurities caused me to shut down. I didn't want to open up all the way. Whenever I got to the point where I was ready to fall for him hard- he would push me away. Eventually, I stopped reaching out when I wanted to and he wouldn't either.
It pains me still to think about because of the potential there. There was so much love wasted. I hate to say wasted because I don't really feel that way. I don't feel like my time was wasted. It was an interim to where I am now. It was a bridge to a better place. Where I feel like I am able to grow and be myself and be confident in this new person. The new old me. It pains me to think that my feelings may have been wasted. I just was so ready to be the best me for him that I kept giving it to myself and others instead. He didn't want it. I still did it in small doses. I told him once that I didn't think he could handle me and I still believe that. I don't think he can handle all of me. He got bits here and there, but I was always distant at the end. Because, I wanted to fall in. I wanted to go all in, but I was scared. I was scared he wouldn't go in after me. I was hurt that he wouldn't be everything I wanted right then and there- even though we both were sort of playing a game where neither of us would speak up and just eventually fade away.
It feels like unfinished business. I can only try to explain. I feel like I opened up a book and then lost the only copy. I will always wonder how the book ends. Does it end? I suppose it does when you lose the story.
I have a special ability to be very confusing.
It comes with being me. I try my best to explain myself. Sometimes, I don't have enough words. Feelings are hard to explain. You just feel them. I can only give so much description because these feelings are new and I never felt them before so there aren't any words for them. Maybe I should look up some German to help me. I felt mutual respect with him. I felt things stir up from deep inside. Things that he didn't put there. Things that I recognized that he did not put there. Things that he helped me sort out. I would start unpacking and he was just there. He had a hand on my back. I needed to do it alone and I always felt like when I needed him, he wouldn't respond. Then, I would realize how much I could do on my own. When he seemed like he was asking me for something that he could do himself, I began saying nothing. Normally, I would want to jump in and help and fix. No. I didn't do that for him. I tried and he said no thanks. He grew up. A lot. Someone pulled me aside and told me that they never saw him in the last decade act this way. I thought, then why won't he just go all in with me?It got to that point. The one that I understand to be the worst fucking thing. Which is that we helped each other as much as we could and now... Now, we can't grow anymore like this. Because, the feelings are just at the door. Waiting to come in. I opened the dang door anyways. I knew it was stupid. I did it anyways.
Now, as anyone who reads my posts, I go back and forth between saying, fuck it. If it was real, then we shall meet again, and what kind of dick strings me along like this? He clearly doesn't deserve me if he would treat me this way.
I've been trying to combine the two into a better version which is: It will sort itself out eventually. I just gotta keep moving forward.
My biggest issue about the unknown ahead is that I annoyingly don't want anyone else. At this point, I would have jumped into a new relationship. I would have tried to go out and find someone else to occupy my time. I end up lucking out at some point with someone who I connect with and we get serious by now. I suppose I have grown in that sense. I have made it clear that I don't want anything more than friendship from any interested parties. I'm not ready. My heart still hurts. I am not sure that it won't stop hurting. I read somewhere that it takes 1/10th of the time of a relationship to get over one. So for my ten year relationship that ended in divorce- that should have taken me about a year to get over. I would say that is fairly accurate. I probably still need some time occasionally since it was so toxic that old patterns resurface sometimes. It's less frequent and less energy gets put into it each time. At this point, it is merely, wow he irritates me. Then I go on about my day. So for a friendship that lasted about a year and a half- that should only take me about two months to get over. I still feel like he may just show up like nothing happened. I still feel like I want to write him movie quotes and draw stupid shit. I want to call him. I don't. I let it go. I can't be the only person in a friendship that reaches out. That isn't a friendship. That is heartache. Wow, he also irritates me.
Post titles:
I generally get inspired about songs or lyrics. Most of the titles of my blog posts are those. This one is a song called Sundress by A$AP Rocky. I discovered this song because it happens to be someone's favorite artist so I looked up what the most popular songs were and this paired with Potato Salad resonated with me. I think Tyler, the Creator has relatable lyrics. Sundress has samples from Tame Impala's song, Why Won't You Make Up Your Mind? I find this hilarious in so many ways. I quote that song a lot. I quote Tame Impala a lot. They are one of my favorite artists. Probably my favorite since I can say I love all of their songs. Why won't you make up your mind, give me a sign, am I wasting my time, living in my head, you'll be sorry when, I make up mine instead. Relatable.
So, I spent a lot of time writing about this man who kept telling me that he didn't want anything serious from me but yet his actions would come across very serious and a lot of people are probably left wondering, why is this called The Wrong Man if you think he's so right for you?Well, Karen, the song is actually about a man who lost his partner to another man and he can see how wrong that dude is for her(?) and I related to this for a few reasons. The first run through I pictured this is how my ex husband felt. Then I pictured this is how the guy I have a crush on feels about his ex. Then I wondered if this guy is the wrong man or not and I didn't have an answer. I still don't. Sorry, I'm confusing. Oh, well. I feel like generally speaking, I should think he's the wrong man and in my gut I feel like he is the right man and I think the irony alone is enough to make me laugh and then stare. And then cry a bit. He shows up in my dreams, I see his car everywhere. I see reminders of him constantly. It is annoying. Sometimes, I hate it and I get sad. Sometimes, I encourage it and it makes me warm. Mostly, I just say, okay, and try to move on with my day. What the fuck else should I do?
I wrote a post called Run, Rabbit, Run about what I should say to myself and he called me and asked if it was about him. I bit my tongue and started to cry. He was angry with me. I tried NOT to cry, which barely worked. I wrote it because I was thinking about him but also myself. I flopped back and forth. He was half right and I partially lied. I said it wasn't about him, but it kind of was...? I started it out being angry at him and then I realized it was all the things I needed to hear as well. I needed to love myself and stop holding myself back from my true potential. I need to do art and put myself out there- step out of my comfort zone. Stop slouching and be proud to be me. I find it ironic that it made him want to run. I am the rabbit. I like to run away from the things I fear. I like to hide and not confront. I like to be scared of the future and blend in with my surroundings. I am the fucking rabbit, you guys. I think it is ironic that he had such a strong reaction to that post in particular. What about it made him get so upset? Is it that I said, I love you? Because, if so, what the hell? You can't tell someone not to love you. Especially, someone like me. I love people. I mean, I hate people haha, but if I go out of my way to get to know someone, I love them. I see a bond and I work on it. If I feel like someone is taking advantage of that love then that makes me reconsider it, but I just am that way. Don't fuck around with someone like me, stars in my eyes, rose colored glasses view of the world, who just tries to inspire and help people, who will mom the fuck out of you because I LIKE doing it, don't fuck around with me or people like me if you don't want love. Because, that's what you'll fucking get. I give pure, beautiful love. If you feel something different than love from me then you fucked it up with me. I don't just turn sour overnight, either. It takes time and a lot of shitty things to make me not want to care about someone anymore. I will make excuses for you for a long time before it turns to hate. So, once I start complaining- it all spills out like a waterfall. It'll be a bunch of droplets from all the time I have known you. I am getting better at just trusting my gut right away with people and not bothering to get to know someone too deep if I feel that twinge that says, they are not telling the truth.My point is, I still wonder what exactly it was that made him angry about that post in particular. He ended the conversation with telling me not to stop writing. Well. Thank you, but I did stop for awhile because I was so fucking scared to lose him as a friend because of accidentally hurting him. That is the type of person I fucking am. I was scared to lose a friend so I stopped doing something I love doing because it hurt him. Again, don't fuck around with me if you are a dick. I just can't deal, today haha! Can you tell by all the swearing?
I had some time to process and some time to rethink some things. I think I'm having a day where I just feel like, fuck it.
I have a few reservations about what I need to write about next. Mostly, because I am very private. I am an open book if you ask the right questions. I tend to be very reclusive and if someone is lucky enough to get close enough to take my pants off, then generally, you are in for a treat because I do not act like I do around other people, in that instance. I do feel like I have a lot to say about what has happened to me throughout my life and I need to write it out to connect some things because that is how my brain works. I work best with flowing thoughts that take me somewhere else. Sometimes, the past, sometimes the present, sometimes the future. I jump around a lot in my mind so writing it down helps me see patterns that I don't understand when it's dancing around in my head. So. Here I go.
I went through a whole pack of gum this week. At least. I need to get these things out. I am having trouble with it because I feel vulnerable and I don't like to feel vulnerable. I guess I'll start there. I will get very vulnerable with someone if I'm interested. It takes a lot of time and patience, but if you want me, keep coming at me. I will eventually open up. If I cry around you, you are in. If I kiss your cheek, you are so fucking in with me. I am incredibly intimate. I like to look deep into eyes and feel your fucking soul. I will read you inside and out. I will memorize freckles on your hands, moles on the back of your head, the shape of your broken finger. If you didn't think I noticed, you are wrong. I saw you do that. I saw you and I remember now. I don't have any use for this information. I just do it anyways. I remember every man I have been with. I know how they look naked, still. I remember what their orgasm face looks like. I know what every penis I have ever seen looks like. I am not kidding. I am taking this opportunity to say, I have a list in my mind of the best and worst looking dicks and they are not the same as the most statisfying or the ones where I have climaxed from. Those lists are different. I will just squash any bullshit that dudes have about their dicks. Some women care about size, gerth, and such, but really, it comes down to how you use it. If you think your dick is the shit because it's big and you're used to women sliding on that thing and then cumming instantly, then you probably didn't get too far with me. Confidence is important but I am not a huge person so I tend to like average sized dicks that are used properly. My first boyfriend was one of the smallest dicks I ever saw and he was also at the top of the best looking dicks I ever saw and at the top of the best orgasm list. So, just because you have a big dick doesn't mean you are the shit and just because your dick is small doesn't mean that you can't make a woman cum. One of the ugliest dicks I ever saw was also one of the best. It just really depends on who wields the sword, so to speak. I don't know how this isn't common knowledge. Ah, well.
The same rings true for dicks I want to suck. If your dick is ugly, I will most likely not want to put that thing in my mouth, but if I love you or you are a good person, I will do that for you. I just maybe will be bored and not initiate. If you have the best looking dick I ever saw, and you are an asshole, then I will not initiate. There are two men that I have been with that I wanted to give head to. Coincidentally, the first and last crushes I had. I put my first boyfriend in a lot of my stories. I just adore him. He got weird and annoying as an adult but as teenagers, we shared something really wonderful and anyways, I just loved his dick haha! TRUTH. He was at the top of all my dick adoration lists before this last dude. So, the title moves to this guy who doesn't want to date me. COOL BEANS. I am glad I had an intimate relationship with his penis. It is beautiful. Fucking perfect, honestly. Perfect size and shape and he knew what the fuck to do with it. I would have no problem being on that thing 3 times in a day. I wanted to just stare at it. It is seriously beautiful. Which leads me to the next point...
Generally, I use this information to be in the moment before climax and that is just how I am. I get off on love and how their skin feels against the inside of my upper arm, the smell of their hair, just all of it. I feel like you get what I am saying here. Sorry to put him on blast, but my ex husband was not a lover. He fucking wasn't. I think maybe we had sex once or twice where it felt loving. Maybe. It was always grunty and just... someone cum or whatever so we can move on to the next move. It was robotic and boring. I would look at him during sex and see that he was bored. Sometimes, the only way to get off was to, well, I'd just picture someone else. Louis C.K. came up once. I dunno why. He just. Seems like... similar enough in body shape but with kinder eyes. I dunno. I like Irishmen. Fuck. This is... fun. My point is, it was a means to an end. Having sex with him came up with I just really felt like I needed his dick. Honestly. It didn't create a bond between us. Cuddling with him was similar. He would cuddle with me and then roll over and go to sleep after a certain amount of time. I would usually just lay there and listen to him snore in my ear and be annoyed. He was loud and obnoxious. I liked to be held by him and I'm not saying I had no love for him. It just always felt... weird. Like it wasn't genuine...? I dunno how else to describe it. I felt like after so many years, we drifted apart and he just didn't care to try. He still made the motions. So it seemed like things were okay. Ug. So coming from a place where my body went through a LOT of trauma through childbirth and just from sexual abuse in my past- I had become closed off. However, I did not realize this. I felt like I was missing a piece a lot of things by the end of my marriage, but what? I dunno. Just too many to understand. He just wanted to argue constantly and he knew how to press my buttons and I would just let him. I would just bicker and bitch and it just eventually wore me down to nothing. My best friend likes to point out that sex is very important to me. It is true. It is so very important. Because, I don't like to be intimate with people without a lot of love and a big base. Sometimes, I will choose a sexual partner because I enjoy getting dick, I'll be blunt haha. I like dick so sometimes I will sleep with someone to feel a dick in me. I crave that feeling. But, that's sex. It's different. So although being intimate is technically sex, sex is not being intimate. So, yes and no. Sex is NOT important to me. Being intimate is very important to me. If I'm lucky enough to find someone who wants to be passionate with me, then I will just fucking fall head over heels. I love to express my love in that way. To show someone that they are the only person I have ever been with in that way- because being intimate is very much a new experience with different people. You learn what they like and they learn what I like and it's a mesh of things, feeling the moment and enjoying someone's body in that way is just.... Intimate.
I'm showing her love, she's been giving me sex. This line from Hurt Feelings by Mac Miller. I heard that line and I thought, yeah, man. Exactly. I don't like to feel like I am putting my body out there for touching and getting no love in return. Because, if you touch my body like that, I will love you. So, this damn man, putting his hands on me from DAY ONE like I've never been touched for over a decade and in my mind I said, fuck. I wanted sex. I did not get that. It was different.Then I was thinking, I have zero body confidence anymore. My stomach is weird, never was great, but after two kids there's a scar and stretch marks and extra flab that just sort of hangs out. It sucks. Where my vagina used to be cute and sweet, it is now huge and weird. Having kids does some shit to your body. This dude wanted to be down there, all the fucking time. I was just laying there, eyes closed, wondering what the fuck I am supposed to do about all this. I wanted him. So badly. Still do, fucking hell. I feel like he has been spending the last decade practicing and I have not. I have spent a decade slowly closing off completely. He unlocked so many things inside me. He made me vulnerable in ways that I wasn't ready or prepared for and then I was triggered. I had an episode of PTSD which is scary and feels like dying. I wrote about it. It's called PTSD and pretty much everything is true. I changed some insignificant things. The truth there is that I was having sex which was more like sex than intimacy and it triggered me. I panicked and he kissed me so gently and grabbed my hand I just came back. He didn't cause that pain in me. He found it and made it softer. He replaced memories I had that were tragic and horrible. He replaced them with intimacy and love and consent. I was not kidding when I said his face was down in my vagina more in a day than in the last decade of my life. It triggered things in me. I worked through them as best as I could. I wrote about that in several pieces. There was an interesting turn of events that happened when he asked me if I climaxed and very much had no idea. I felt like yes and no at the same time....? I did some research and found out that there are four different types of orgasms and I had experienced all four types throughout my life. However, the clitoral orgasm for me was never on it's own and I had actually never experienced it as such. I had felt it paired with g-spot orgasm which is my favorite type. I feel like there have been times and places and people for the other two orgasms. This dude made me feel something I had never fucking felt before and I laugh about it. Seriously, belly laughs. I never just exeperienced a clitoral orgasm as a stand alone thing. So he's telling me, sounds like you came to me. I was thinking, well that was cool and awesome and different but not the one I am used to or feel satisfied by. So that made things weird. I feel like if he could last long enough doing the same move for a few minutes then the other ones would be so very easy to get to. I did get to all three of them at some point with him. He probably has no idea either way. I can count the other orgasms he gave me on one hand. Yes. Not many. But he sure was good at that one orgasm that I don't really care about. Really good at it. Great job.
I think this lead to a lot of insecurity on his end. I didn't try to hard to help him figure it out either. I kept thinking that if he really wanted to get me somewhere I wanted to go then he would. I think that applies to everything about the relationship. He didn't really want me more than for what it was and that was felt. It hurts my heart and I feel it. He opened up so many things that I had closed off and I am so very grateful for it all. The part that he severely lacked in was the commitment. He didn't want to commit. I knew this. I kept trying anyways. I really don't know if I regret it or not. I needed him in all that time and he showed me a lot of things I didn't see. I really appreciate and respect him for all that. I hate him, just a little, for not wanting more. But, I respect his decision. For this, I do not know if I will try with anyone else ever again. Truly. I experienced things and I am good. That is just funny of me to read this and think this way. I feel like he healed my heart and never asked for anything so he didn't take anything from me. He left me in a better state in all ways than when he came into my life. How do you hate someone like that? How do you get over someone like that? Fuck.
The last time we had sex he was watching my face, looking into my eyes and I caught him. It felt like curiosity and also that he loved me. I don't know which part was worse for him. That he desperately wanted to satisfy me to the point he was hard on himself (which is asinine- I really enjoyed being with him, just wanted him to spend 2-3 more minutes in one place so I could be satisfied, thanks) or was it that he didn't want to have feelings for me? Or just that he didn't feel good enough? Or maybe I just misinterpreted, but I doubt it. I may ignore how people feel because they are telling me something different than they are feeling, but I can tell how they feel. I won't interrogate someone who wants to tell me they don't want more even if I can feel that love. Either way, it was the best and worst and I just laugh at all the irony. I guess really, it doesn't matter because clearly we both were not ready for what was between us. Either way, we can't do more for each other than what was done. I wanted to move forward and I was prepared to be more intimate, give more love, grow with him- he doesn't want that. So. My heart just fucking hurts when I think about it and if I think about trying again. I hope I'm wrong and I try again in the future because I feel like I deserve a happy ending. Maybe my happy ending is just being alone. I don't know. Life doesn't work like that.
I spent a long time researching psychology websites to try to figure out what even happened between us. Other people find it so simple, he's just not that into you. But, that is just the stuff people saw. The intimacy we had (not just sex) was just more than what I can feasibly describe. It was like finding someone I had lost long ago that I didn't remember or know. A stranger that felt like home. Now, I feel like I have a piece of home with me all the time. I wish I could be closer. Feel that more. But, I have what I have. I have had relationships that I wasn't that into someone and vice versa. It was different.Not a normal situation. Not a normal relationship. It was a weird in between thing that was more in some ways and less in others. We shared weird things in common and felt each other's feelings. He knew what I meant with few words. I knew how he felt without him saying anything at all. Weird, good bond. 10/10 Highly Recommend.
Well. That escalated quickly.
Comments
Post a Comment