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There's something blissfully easy when it comes to speaking to myself.
I have discussions with myself where we're always on the same side.
I teach myself things I already know.
I even come up with spontaneous songs about mundane things.
It's safe to say my mind is always purring along like a smooth engine.
The kicker though, is that despite the unfettered, untethered, unbridled nature of my quick wit;
Emotional analysis alludes me.
I'm not talking about simple "I am frustrated, why am I frustrated? Perhaps it's because asshole A or B or C severely disappointed me out of the fact that I don't and can't control humans to act the exact way I want them to".
I digress. No, the emotional analysis I'm talking about is grounded in my insistence on falling into people I know I won't ever get attached to.
It's this fucking thing I have with control. No feels = easy, logical, clean.
Feelings = Vulnerability. Giving to no end. And a submission of control. I was about to write down "a seizure of control" but that would be me lying to myself.
The jokes about *you* having me wrapped around your little pinkie, that was never a lie. You see, you never saw it. My ego blinded you. You thought it was larger than life, and larger than my care for you. (You've made that abundantly clear through the paragraphs you sent me the last time we really spoke).
Perhaps people don't understand my complexity because they're so distracted by a select few facets they don't see often enough.
I'm intimidating. But no wait, I'm a sweetheart softie. But fuck, you really fucked up, and suddenly I'm the egomaniacal, coldhearted bitch who never really invested much if I cut you loose so quickly. And here's the latest kicker. I'm an astonishing, kinda fascinating being.
*insert exasperated plea to a higher power*
So instead of talking about my incessant need to chase nonstarters, I went on a long ass bitch rant about being misunderstood, lmfao. Okay idiot, focus. We were talking about bad choices in relationships.
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#1. The flame to my moth. My first love. --2015--
I still and will always love you. Though I fucking hate you. And you are a fucking dodged bullet.
I don't know. You were the first person who drew me in so strongly. You were snarky and confident and didn't allow me to get away with anything. And I *loved* that. It was so easy for me to just say whatever I wanted and people would take it at face value for whatever reason. The conviction of the message? The way I carried myself? Dunno.
*side note, I drive my sister crazy by always acting like I'm the most confident mofo on the planet regarding directions, and I swear I am, but somehow around my sister, I always manage to get us to take several wrong turns and we end up having no idea where we actually are xD*
Anyywhoo back to #1. Like I was saying, you never let me get away with anything and it was so so attractive. You challenged me intellectually in a way very very few people know how. You were so charming, down right sexy actually. The confidence in which you asked me out made me all the more interested in you.
And you know, this love was so pure. I wore my heart so openly on my sleeve. I still remember the nights we'd stay up talking on the phone for hours and hours, and you would always grumble about having practice at 7 am, and that I was going to wreck you with all these hours I was keeping you awake.
It was one of those nights and one of those calls, looking out into the skyline with the sun about to pop up, when I heard you choke up and falter over your words. It was such an innocent love to the point where I had the utmost confidence to declare, "I know what you want to say, just say it" I remember your shaky laugh. I scared you, and you deflected the responsibility to me "you say it, if you're so sure", you dared. I still remember the tone and I'm laughing as I write this down. The balls it took for me to reply "you love me" is something I don't think I'll ever go back to. That was a moment that changed so much for you and I, but I didn't quite understand its gravity.
What came after that, is just...a long period of pushing and pulling. It's funny how someone as intense as you, as loving as you - could also be so...risk averse? haha god this used to hurt me so much and now I just have to laugh. You broke up with me like 5 times in the span of 4 months, no joke because shit got hard, and you were scared, and you refused to talk to me like an adult about it. Your fear came out in little bursts. You'd withdraw, or give me the cold shoulder. You'd tell me your mom is pushing your ex on you again and how you loved the relationship your ex had with your mother (as opposed to mine and hers of course), and the ultimate kicker was how you blamed nearly everything you were feeling in your head - the thoughts you kept from me - you had the nerve to blame on me. "Maybe you're just too independent to need a relationship. Maybe you just don't need me." What you said haunts me, 4 years later. I carry it into every relationship I fall into after you.
All that up there ^ and I haven't even got to your paranoia and jealousy. Asking me to cut out a friends. Insinuating that the friend I added to a group chat, so you could get to know and feel more comfortable around - secretly wanted to bang me, and I was secretly playing things up. It wasn't healthy. It really wasn't. But I couldn't for the life of me, stop being so drawn to your allure. Agh, you really really are the flame that I'm drawn to and you're just not healthy for me, because I know, even 4 5 6 7 years later, I will still find you unbelievably alluring, but after everything that happened, and all the heartache, there's no way I will ever trust you again.
And I'm not even speaking on the fact that you threw my relationship with #2 in my face. Or how you continued contacting me well into my relationship, or how you still tried to play with my head after #2 and subsequently finding out you wanted to date #2's friend and completely betraying my trust my leaking personal information to the new bae. ugh ugh ugh. I'm getting angry, so let's move on.
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#2. The slow burn. -- 2015-2017 --
You... are complicated. It's been two years now, and I still can't quite separate what is reality, and what is a mixture of nostalgia and a defense mechanism.
The chemistry was always there, just more subtle. I mean, not to give #1 any credit, but technically, this thing with you and I, was predicted in a way.
You always had immeasurable courage when it came to giving me your heart and pushing me to speak. I remember forcing you to listen to all my ranting when it came to #1. Our relationship was falling apart, and I was done crying my lungs out in the bathtub. I was done fighting for someone that wanted to either run away all the time, or act possessive and try to control who I talked to. And you listened to all that. You stood by for all of that.
It still impresses me that you were able to ask me not to friendzone you after my relationship with #1 ended and I was considering jumping around and rebounding like a lunatic to get #1 out of my system.
We started out so well. You were this...anchor. Stable, kind, reliable, sexy, funny, etc. Things were good. I liked you, I liked your friends, you liked my friends, but I guess underneath all that there was perhaps more baggage than we thought.
I don't know, it was the little things at first. You didn't know how to deal with my cold side. You didn't know how to deal with my need for space. That was always a recurring problem for us. No matter how hard I tried to explain it, I think the further I fell back, the tighter you wanted to hold on, and that just made me recoil all the faster.
And so here begins my little back and forth with emotional attachments and commitment issues. Though I didn't know it at the time.
Eventually we pushed through, and our love and respect withstood the silly space issues and there pops in some good old standard depression.
JUST when I thought this relationship is for the long haul, and the basis of the relationship was so so solid, and our communication got better and and and, you begin to descend into darkness. And I really was not equipped to handle it. You fell off the rails and my low EQ ass could not for the life of me handle it. You would never ever want to hear this shit, but that's the fucking truth.
Your depression that I fought tooth and nail to try to help you work through, it was too much for me. The more the depression festered, the more you clung to me to be your rock. The more you clung to me to be your rock, the more I shriveled away, packed up my feelings. Not only was it hard to grasp that feeling I once defined as being "in love", but I resented you too. I really did. It was hard to hear you talk about feeling so empty inside. Those dreams we had of starting something real? Slipped through my fingers and fuck did I hate myself for it. It was this horrible cycle of anxiety and self loathing, but I didn't have the vocabulary for it then.
I mean, look. It definitely wasn't your fault. I'm just in my feelings about it right now, and I'm probably more to blame than you are, hence the feeling of guilt in the pit of my stomach every time I've thought about you over the past two something years.
I always had a wandering eye. We both know it. We used to joke about it.
But I think somewhere along the crumbling of the relationship, the wandering eye manifested into some emotional need. Some need to feed my ego. Feed my emptiness. Fight this feeling of ineptitude and uselessness I was feeling with you, and I needed to feed that hole with something else.
I mean, you started catching on, I think. Before the end. You caught on. Or you were worried about it. But I don't think I ever allowed you to call me out on it. Or perhaps I was just lying and deflecting so much that you chose to pretend to believe me, for the sake of your fragile sanity. I mean, I still laugh over that moment at Doors where I completely and utterly zoned you out to watch someone walk past me, and it was just a horrible moment of oggling. Or when we were out with Z and I was sick so I had that deeper gruff voice you loved so much, and Z made it a point to tell me how my voice was, like 3 separate times and you got so miffed that you asked me about in the car on the way home.
Guess you really should've paid attention to those signs because after that enters...
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#3. My flame? Here? Older? Stronger? Wiser? Give me all of it. --2017--
You drowned and intoxicated me in a lot of ways.
I feel like it's somewhat my duty to point out that this is one of the major signs of me chasing emotional low risk situations, and that very clearly begins with #3. What's a more obvious sign than leaving the pressure of a relationship breaking apart at the seams, to feed my ego with whatever fucking lust trip this started as? You were a hurricane. The storm of all storms. I hadn't known that yet. All I knew was this fucking witty, snarky, attractive, rough on the outsides and sweet on the insides Pisces was a restart with #1 I suppose, just without the risk of falling in love and letting you tear me apart like #1 did. It truly was insane how much you reminded me of #1.
I very very stupidly thought I would get a redo with someone like 1, except this time...I'm not really available, so whatever this is, won't get far, but I'll just enjoy basking in the rays of someone as intense as this person who sucks me in like a vortex.
JESUS WAS I WRONG ABOUT THAT ONE. Not at all surprising, right? Smh.
You were supposed to be easy. Simple. Uncomplicated. You were just a charming stranger who again, did not let me get away with shit. In fact, when we first met, we didn't like each other because we were too busy arguing the same exact point in different ways, trying to out alpha the other. Gosh. I knew I was in a relationship. You knew I was in a relationship. You made sure to remind me that all the obvious flirting going on, wasn't actually flirting, and you didn't actually like me that way, and we still had the boundaries we pretended to have. I mean, we went as far as to joke about how *not attracted* we were to each other. You constantly called me frigid and cold and whatever else.
But on one particular winter night, everything changes.
So a snapshot of the timing, it was January, and it's been like...a month and a half since #2 decided to give me a promise ring (I would laugh if this wasn't so cruel), but since then, the anxiety attacks have been off the chain. I was miserable and didn't know what to do or how to fix this relationship and if I wanted out and and and. And then my rock - my best friend - tells me he needs to leave to Chicago in the middle of my melt down. He was the only person I was really able to vent to about my relationship issues, and he was also sort of a mediator for me with #2 when he could. I cried the night he told me he was leaving, and I never cry, but I really really was in a very fragile emotional state.
So in swoops #3, literally. I'm just sitting at home, completely bummed out at the news my bestie was leaving, and I tell this to you #3 to vent --- red flag that I wasn't venting to my actual partner, eh? --- and you instantly ask for my address and proclaim to be on the way to my house to cheer me up hahaha. Goddamn you #3, goddamn you.
So, like a fool, I think the whole thing is some absurd joke. I actually give up my address with details and everything. hahaha damn. I obviously start questioning the validity of this whole thing, because like...what kinda stranger just drives to another stranger's house to cheer them up...what?
Anyway, fast forward and I meet this lovely stranger outside my house. And we just launch into communication. There's this weird atmosphere though. There's this obvious attraction that no one points out at first. God, writing this is leaving me a bit out of breath. Imagine this insane situation of getting into this strangers car and then seemingly finding yourself attracted to them, all the while you.are.in.a.relationship.
Ugh. What the hell was I thinking.
I wasn't thinking, that's the tea, really.
So back to the car. You decide to be a dickhead and break the unwritten rule we had established before about never admitting an attraction, and you decided I needed to know that I was cute af. GEE THANKS. Talk about raising the temperature in the car a million degrees. I have no idea what I replied but it was probably something dripping with charm, as hot people just bring it out of me.
Fast forward to us saying out goodbyes, I head home forgetting alllll about how I was supposedly sad that my best friend was leaving me. Really, I'm just absolutely beaming from ear to ear. Here's the icing on the cake though. I get home and decided to cockily message you, asking if I was indeed as cold as we both used to joke about. I will never ever forget your reply. Point blank, you told me "Cold? You exude sex." Uh oh. That was when the trouble began.
Somehow, and I honest to god cannot explain how, but th ings sort of snowballed after that. It came a point to where I was seeing you three times a day. God, we were obsessed with each other. It became so normal to just say "hey, I miss you already, tell me its possible to see you again." Ugh just thinking about this drives me crazy.
I didn't realize that it was flipping the scales of power and control, though. It's actually so funny to me that I thought I was escaping one situation by throwing myself into someone else with maybe not the same expectations, but we definitely were devoting a hell of a lot of time to each other. Did I not learn anything by getting burned twice before?
Man I was so blinded by you. So so blinded. This time by ego and lust though. I think that's so much worse than being blinded by love. At least love nurtures you a little bit, lust is so temporary.
You were pushing and pulling at me so much. I don't know. Was I growing dependent on you? #1 claimed I had a problem with leaning on my partner that I actually loved, and here I was trying to lean on someone I didn't really have an emotional attachment to?? What is wrong with meeee. See? I told you. I have a fucking problem falling into people I'm not very attached to emotionally.
Something changed and we saw so much of each other, and I was lying so much to #2, it was just becoming a mess. And you would pull me in with statements like "All I want is to fucking have you all to myself" but "I'm uncomfortable seeing you when you're seeing someone else" but then we'd end up at your office late night, and leave a mark all over. "I really like you. I want to be with you, but I'm not going to if you're seeing someone else, and I'm not going to if you that someone FOR me" ---Direct quotes from screenshots I still have years later DON'T JUDGE ME--- like....what?? Was that supposed to make sense? No no no, and then, you would do this dick move and try to get me jealous by telling me about your FWB and how you think you might have feelings for them and all this shit. God you wrecked me. We would literally be on a date, on the way dropping me home, you'd talk about your fwb. Despite all that though, despite being an unsure manipulative motherfucker, I still fell for you. HOW SAD IS THAT. That's the first time I've ever said that. Wow. And you know damn sure that you're mostly just my prop story for self-guilt for cheating on #2.
These screenshots are so unhealthy. I just read the ones where you told me you didn't want to get attached to me, and every time you pull back and think you're safe, you get sucked back into me again.
That drunken afternoon with what will soon be known as #4, that afternoon was going to be the first time I told you I loved you.
And oh what a mess that would be, eh?
You wouldn't have said it back. You would convince yourself and me to lie about the authenticity of my proclamation, because that's just what you do. You're used to it eh?
Fuck that got me. You and your fucking lying proclamations.
Anyway, I fell off track. I was going to say, that the night in your office plays in my head every once in a while. There was so much in the air that night. So much unsaid.
Imma be honest with you, if I could turn back time, I would go back to that night and be more honest. When you leaned into me and the air got thick, instead of letting it simmer until you felt overexposed, I would gently move your hair behind your ear and tell you you're beautiful. Because you are. You were.
I had never told you that. It was always about lust. Well, it wasn't *about* lust, but it was easier to pretend so.
Noticed I write more as I progress? Haha I wonder what that says about my chasing of low risk daliances when clearly it's all bullshit I just say to myself. I suppose doing the dirty is just doing the dirty. Ego, hormones, a fucking need to plug this emptiness?
Anyway, fucking asshole #3. I can't believe you had the audacity to try and flirt with me after all the bullshit you put me through. Fucking asshole. Look how good I was to you. Trying to maintain a friendship that had no real structure. You used me because 'O' didn't want you. And I used you because I didn't want #2. And in the end, you pretended to want me like I knew you wanted 'O', and I pretended to be the opaque wall of unfeeling that #2 was so desperately trying to get through to.
You destroyed me. I destroyed #2. And we destroyed a coulda woulda shoulda that will forever leave me changed.
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#4. A mistake. A fucking mistake. --2017 - 2018--
Speaking of using other people for selfish gains... *throws flowers at your feet* I never congratulated or commended you for playing my strings so well.
You know what makes me smile through the bitter taste? That I will always be seared into your scull. Every fucking time you hear my name, you'll remember how you single-handedly broke your protector. Who the fuck will stand with you now eh?
Our story is such an old one. Damn, it predates alll of this nonsense that I've gotten myself into, starting at 19 years old. I'm almost 24 now.
If you asked me, which you're not, because really I'm just speaking to myself here...If you asked me, this is a quintessential friendship broken-up-by-sex sort of story. Now, if you stick with this story, you might disagree seeing as the effect wasn't immediately seen, but I believe things changed after our relationship strayed into physical territory, and it is what ultimately lead to the sensitivities leading to our demise.
So I mentioned you up there during my story with #3. Now, I wouldn't be me if I didn't point out how ever since #1, I've pretty much melded into people. I knew #2 while being with #1, then jumped into something with #2 right after. Then I met #3 while with #2, and didn't even wait this time, and jumped into #3 while with #2, and now the moment that the avalanche of change into our relationship began because I was still hurting over #3.
Are you keeping up? Was that ^ mess of a life too complicated to understand? Too bad, I'm continuing my story either way.
So, the big moment I'm talking about, was around...April of 2017.
Some context first: we've been friends since like...2011 I'd like to say. Over the years we had gotten progressively closer, and I'd say we hit best friend status since 2013. Now as close as we were, there was still something I hadn't been honest with you about. And over the years, I had really really struggled with it, because you were really the only friend in my life who hadn't known.
I tried to tell you. I mean, I came out the same year our relationship shifted and became all the closer, and yet, I couldn't tell you. Years passed, and I started and ended two momentous relationships, and the closest I got was jokingly but not so jokingly asking you "What would happen if I told you I was gay?" Your answer? "We wouldn't be friends anymore" and fuck, I cannot begin to explain how deeply that answer cut me. Mostly because you meant so much to me, but also because an ex best friend really did cut me out of her life after I came out, and your answer hit too close to home.
Now, how did we get from that horrible answer to us eventually shacking up? hahaha funny when I think about it like that actually...anyway what ended up happening, is I forced the lines of our relationship to allow for more honesty and vulnerability by opening up about something in my life that I hadn't mentioned before. I guess seeing me be honest like that, made you feel comfortable enough to talk to me and tell me stuff as well. That was the night I learned more about your abusive ex boyfriend, and why you up and left the country because of him. That was the night we played a round of truth or truth, and you asked me if I ever kissed a girl. Dunno what it was about that night, but I felt so safe, and I answered you honestly about it, despite not actually coming out to you then and there. And then guess what you did? The biggest bombshell--you admitted you had kissed girls before too-- *cue me having a secret heart attack*
Likeee what was life. It's safe to say that our friendship took a big leap forward after that. All this happened in February of 2017, so 2 and half ish months before the next semi explosive change. And in those two months I was dealing with the implosion of my relationship with #2 and my roller coaster ride of ---whatever you want to call it--- with #3.
So with life pretty much exploding all around me I needed to lean on a best friend. And since 'D' was in Chicago, I needed you to be there for me. I remember telling you that I really needed to talk to you about some things, and I felt a strong need for liquid courage. So I asked you to come to my favorite bar and just sit and let me breathe in some whiskey while I tell you all the things I've been craving to say for months.
And this is it. It's some time in mid April, and you're at this bar with me, and we're sitting on a couch that means more to me that you'd ever begin to understand, and somewhere into my third glass of whiskey, everything starts pouring out. I start by point blank telling you that I love women. Proclaiming straight up -hah- that I was bisexual. You just said "Okay. I figured, but I didn't want to ask." And I was like...wait what? what do you mean you figured?? And that's when I brought up how hurtful your words were months before regarding the whole "we wouldn't be friends" thing. You looked so shocked and confused. Apparently you didn't remember a comment that cut me to the core -- remember that ladies and gentlemen, because it's a recurring thing--. Anyway, you were super super cool about it. So with my fourth glass of whiskey, I began telling you about #2 and the cheating and with #3. I mean... I pouredd everything on the table. Everything. Now, here's where things get funny. Somewhere along the heart to heart pouring:
1. I tried to drunkenly call #3 and say, "I love you". Imagine? hahaha if I called someone who is basically a f-buddy, and completely inappropriately told them I loved them? Good lord. What a mess.
2. I asked you if you would let me kiss you.
Now, here's the crazy thing... I didn't remember that part until later that night when you confessed that I asked you. The crazy part though, is that I never ever ever thought of you that way. I mean...I cannot describe to you how left field that question was for me at the time. But in hindsight, it was a momentous shift -- for the both of us --.
So over the next few months, really all that was left for our relationship was more and more closeness. There were no walls left. You told me all about your abusive ex, and I had successfully come out to you and told you about the women who rocked my world sooo of course, me being me, I continued to tell you about all that stuff, because...duh, why not? Apparently you were uber cool about it, right?
Wrong. Now here's how I found out. Soon after my drunken mess of a coming out confession session, I began what I like to call "The Hoe Phase". So, what my hoe phase meant was that from April of 2017, up until April of 2018, I had successfully macked 11 people. I will choose to abstain from reporting how many of those macked were more-than-macked.
Now, back to the original point. somewhere along my hoe phase, you decided to get in your feels about it. The exact moment, was on my 4th hoe phase victim. Is it a mere coincidence that the three previous hoe-phase victims were men? No, definitely not a coincidence. Aparentlyyyy, you were a-okay with my macking machinations with boys, but when it came to victim 4, you got an attitude. I pressed you for weeeksss about your sudden attitude. I mean, it was the weirdest thing and you were suddenly so passive aggressive about it, and I had never ever seen you behave that way. Push comes to shove, you admit you were...jealous. Whaaat. Mindblown. I would never in my wildest dreams think that my best friend would be jealous of a hookup of mine. I mean... come on, it's all meaningless in comparison to the love and respect I feel for you. I pressed you more about it in the coming weeks/months and you admitted that your jealousy was because I was giving that person something I wasn't giving you. Mindblown even more.
Now we stayed in this weird stage for months and months. During that time, you came out to me. You said I helped you come to terms with your truth, the truth you suppressed for years. And I couldn't have been more proud. Slowly our times hanging out at your house started to develop a strange air. I struggled with this because I didn't want to be that weird leech and make you uncomfortable with whatever it was that I was feeling. I was so scared that I was projecting something lecherous. We'd watch movies in the dark stuck together, and I would stop paying attention to the movie because I couldn't stop thinking about wrapping my arm around you. This happened so often that I eventually just had to do it. And that became our norm...until the lights came on and we had this weird distance again.
One day, we were listening to music, and I was laying on your bed and you were sitting on a chair, and out of your own volition, you just laid your hand against mine. It was this...static electricity. I couldn't dare grabbing your hand. Me. The person who was endlessly ballsy around women. Wow. This flirting - for the lack of a better term- went on for a long time, every time you left me shaken up inside. Our hugs became more intimate, everything became more intimate.
Another turning point to this was on my birthday. I brought you together with a bunch of my friends. Different groups that didn't really know each other, but goshdarn put me with people I love, give me the spotlight, and jeez was it an amazing night. The drinks were flowing, and I was impeccably charming, and there I was flirting with everyone. You included. It was the first time I ever allowed myself to brazenly flirt with you that night.
We were playing truth or dare at that point, and in front of everyone, I asked you if you ever had a sexual thought about me. All eyes on you, you started to fumble, but eventually admitted you had a dream or two. Cheeks red and giggling, I couldn't help but think...Wow you're gorgeous. You asked the same of me, and I replied with a resounding, "yes". I continued to press you in front of everyone. What would happen if you took me home in the state I was in - drunk, flirty, and charming as fuck - I think you assumed I was drunk enough to forget your answer, but you said you'd probably take me to bed. In fact, you damn near dared me to take you up on the offer. So I did the next best thing. I asked you to take a little trip to the bathroom, and give me a go. Begin the cheeky bugger I am, I asked two other people, and to my slight disappointment, it was another friend of mine that gave me a go. I wonder if you were as disappointed as I was when I returned from the rendevous smiling and cocky.
At the end of the night, we went home together in a cab. We were cuddled up in the car, and I took your hand for the first time. Saying it was a bolt of lightning is an understatement. You took a picture of us. It's currently the wallpaper on my phone. It's my favorite picture with *anyone*. That night, truly truly was a turning point for us. A point of no return.
After that night I constantly dreamt of you. Dreamt of touching you in ways friends don't touch each other. I dreamt of kissing you. Of frankly - dominating you with a softness that I'd only reserved for romantic partners. It scared the living shit out of me. But you knew what I wanted without me saying it. You wanted it as badly as I did. You pushed me into it for months. The lingering hugs. I swear you would press your head into me, daring me to kiss you. Christ it was so hard to withstand. So hard. We would always touch hands, but even that felt so intimate. I swear one time, I held your hand and my breathing got heavy, and I couldn't bear to even hold eye contact with you. It was this unspoken thing, where we knew we'd eventually break the barrier, but you needed me to do it.
It came to a head before New Years Eve of 2018. The suffocating weeks and months leading to it, you constantly would ask me about how sure I felt that sex wouldn't complicate relationships, and I would constantly tell you with a conviction I wasn't sure of, that sex doesn't have to complicate anything if you didn't let it. Now the week before the end of the year, I told you I had made up my mind. I'd go to your house for a movie night - yeah yeah pfft - and bring over a bottle of my favorite white wine. You agreed, and... we did it. I brought it over and I drank. The whole time you were kept safe in my arms in the dark. To this day, I have no fucking idea what we watched. I didn't pay attention to one second of it. With your head burrowed in my neck, and your legs intertwined with mine, I just could not think straight. You couldn't either - you admitted later -. Every single tiny movement was super charged. I wanted to kiss you a million times before I actually did. And when we did kiss... explosions. Fireworks the like of which I hadn't felt in a year, no matter who I had dallied with. Clearly there were feelings packed in there, that I didn't want to acknowledge.
From that point forward...fuck the movie. There was nothing more important than the power felt between us. It got so heavy I couldn't breathe anymore. I backed off and we admitted to each other that we were scared we'd fall and end up hurting each other. But what was between us was too much to resist that night. At one point I had you up against a wall, begging me. I gruffly forced you to admit that I was better than your ex. What?? Where did that come from? No fucking idea. But clearly you got me feeling possessive in all types of ways. God my heart is racing thinking about this. At some point we needed to go to the kitchen and the whole way there we were walking in tandem with my arms wrapped around you. As you were against the stove, I made you call my phone so we could dance to the ringtone I had set especially for you, and in what I can only describe as pure romance, we danced right there in the kitchen. God you were so beautiful. That moment is so deeply etched into my brain. I truly believe that some part of me was in love with you. I didn't allow it to take hold, but it was there. How could I not be? I was your protector. I was the person who shielded you from everything and everyone, and you never felt safer in anyone's arms than you did in mine. Fuck. Writing this hurts. It really fucking hurts.
That whole night, we didn't stop kissing, and we didn't stop touching. I will never forget how you looked, how my name took on a different tone. I didn't want you to stop whining out my name in those moments of need. Ugh. You told me that night, that you'd never see me the same way again. You'd never forget those primal sexual parts of me. And after that, nothing truly was the same.
We continued those passionate moments for a few weeks, and then I had to leave to Dubai. After that, something fractured. While I was away from you, you turned to someone else. You entertained someone else's feelings. It broke my heart. I didn't tell you it did, but goddamn you for doing that to me. I needed space from you, and I refused to speak to you for the rest of my time apart from you in Dubai.
When I returned home, it was like...nothing happened between us. I acted accordingly and returned to friendship status, but the thoughts of you, never changed. You haunted my dreams. Your eyes, your voice, your body, was tattooed into my skin. But...friends it was.
I was in pain for months, but never made a big deal of it. I continued my hoe phase, looking for someone to help me forget you. You moved on like it was nothing. An itch that got scratched. God it was slap in the face. After that, I think we were both more sensitive about things.
It all came to a head August of 2018. 8 months after we broke the sexual barrier. You said something that felt condescending in front of my friends, and I was extra sensitive because the whole time we were in the car, you sat in the back with some guy, whispering and giggling, and I was feeling jealous. I've never admitted that to myself before. Wow. So I was jealous and sensitive and the worry you felt, felt like condescension to me, and I snapped at you in front of the guys. I even gave you an ultimatum that you couldn't talk to me like that again, or I'd cut you out of my life. I didn't say it point blank, but the meaning wasn't lost on you. You didn't speak to me for two weeks after that. You wouldn't answer my calls or texts. I lost my mind those two weeks. I was so so hurt and angry. How could you do that to me? Yes I snapped at you, but you crossed a red line you knew existed. It was a line we had talked about before. And I was the bad guy? You ghosted me like you ghosted all those lame ass shmoes you gave your time and attention to? Fuck you. For real, fuck you.
When we finally did talk, and I explained my side with a calm open mind, you kicked me while I was down. Telling me I was an egomaniac and that my ego would be the death of us. It was such a low blow, because you knew that my ego has constantly been a sticking point with people. I never ever expected someone this fucking close to me, someone I give my all to and take care of no matter what, would throw my ego at me. How fucking dare you. God you broke me that day. You really did. But I swear to God I did my best to move past it. Then my life was thrown to shit, and I told you about it, and you didn't even have the decency to comfort me. You didn't even wish me a happy birthday. After that. I was done with you. I don't give a fuck how much we've been through. There's no way on this earth I'd ever forgive you for that disregard you showed me.
Have you moved on? Have you sucked someone else into your web? I believe the last one lasted...5 weeks? If even? Oops.
Fucking asshole. I regret every fucking second of your seduction. Every second.
You piece of shit . You wore me down for months. MONTHS. Do you know what that means to someone who was already rebounding off the walls with a sex drive that didn't know how to slow down?
No no no. And the audacity to get jealous?? Of a hookup?? Of a hookup that I had zero cerebral interest in?? Come on nowww. You're really going to act insecure over a body?
Scratch that. I should've rubbed it in your face all the more. Don't forget the tattoo, bbyG. Hahaha if only you could see my smirk right now. Fuck I can feel the contempt from here.
Who knew 5 months still wouldn't be enough to stop being so fucking mad at you?
You broke my trust in 7 different ways.
And I'm so so so fucking thankful that I didn't see more of you.
Because the way you said my name in that compromised position has haunted me enough, anything else and I wouldn't have been able to cut such an asshole out of my life so quickly. FUCKING ASSHOLE. Lemme know if that disgusting ex of yours is still harassing you though, because I'm *that bitch* that still asked my friends to help you despite the fucking agony you put me through and the five months of silence.
Here's a fucking promise #4. I will fuck your clone senseless, meanwhile you will replay that breathless admission that let me know I was better than him. And the next one? He won't ever make you feel what I made you feel before even filling you.
So fuck you, bbyG.
*breathe in, breathe out. Calm down*
Talk about a fucking dissertation.
What's with all my wacky choices, eh? I swear to fuck, I don't know if I'm doomed to find brokenness inherently sexy, or if brokenness oftentimes means "complex". Maybe that's the issue. Maybe this is the cost of having this brain. Maybe I'm so fucking obsessed with this savior complex and fixer bullshit that I swear up and down, I don't have. But who am I kidding, eh? I'm the most predictable motherfucker on the planet, even my choices and their outcomes follow a similar pattern.
The fucking masochist in me, it wants it again. A flame, too. That's what I want. I want a flame, and this time...I want to be completely consumed.
How fucked is that? There's just so much in here, so much I want to give someone. I want to take care of someone, I want to be their hero. I want them to wrap me around their finger. Christ.
Few months. I feel it. A few months left until my next burn.
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