well hello

well hello

Saturday, December 10, 2016

Classic Sar

Hey everyone, happy holidays!

It's been months, but I've been on blogger lurking a bit. Life has been crazy lately. D. and I FINALLY ended things for real and for good back in August. Since then I've dated a couple guys namely this newest one who I've now slept with 4 times :-D unprotected. I'm a smart cookie! Actually though I'm pretty sure I already fucked things up. We've been talking just over a month so right on time.

Needless to say I am not happy currently. I slept like shit. First had this insane dream about my new dude and his baby momma and daughter and I woke in a cold sweat. Then I had this other insane dream about fucking my ex J.

New dude just stopped by to pick up a coat I am donating to his buddy's winter coat collection for poors and it was so awkward. He gave me the cold shoulder and a peck on the lips.

Here's why:

Last night I went to his house for dinner. He bought us Thai take out (which was awesome) and we just chilled after and watched some dumb movie. Things were great until during/after the movie because I started thinking about D. and how what we were doing reminded me so much of him (we ALWAYS ate dinner and watched a movie on the couch).

Now keep in mind this was the first time new dude and I had done that. Fuck he needs a name for this blog ok he's Jeff. (For long time readers yes this is the second Jeff I've dated, who I always referred to as J.)

Jeff and I are laying there cuddling the movie ends and we're talking and he pulls out his phone and starts flipping through instagram. I casually glance over and see him looking at some chick's pic! WTF? I said nothing. After a couple seconds of mindless scrolling he sets it down and we start talking about one of our favorite bands, Phish. He has seen them a million times I've seen them once. And he's asking if I'm going to NYE and mentioning that he's going to Mexico (for shows).

So me being me starts tearing up and acting emo. My period is due today but whatever. The moment last night got tense and he backed down and apologized to me because I accused him of rubbing it in my face that he was seeing my favorite band. I could sense his uneasiness with my change of tone. It was kinda ridiculous but this is my life. I managed to calm down and the convo was neutral and after a few more minutes this dude pulls out his phone AGAIN.

I do NOT have my cell phone out when I'm chillen with friends, family, boyfriends. I think it is rude as fuck. Sometimes of course I have to, I'll need to answer, but for the most part I am polite about it. It rubs me the wrong way when people are not. D. did it a lot and it became a real issue for us. I hated it, we got in terrible fights about it, it was bad.

There I go again comparing Jeff's actions to D.'s.

Since we've been talking, about 5-6 weeks, he has been chill about his phone. Def on it a little but not overly much and I was cool with it and obviously he could tell I had mine put away. Out of respect for his presence.

But maybe now that we fucked he no longer respects my presence.

My insecurity is showing :-(

This is why writing is therapeutic and a crutch and also a curse. Seeing it all out like this, re-thinking about it all...I am coming to sickening revelations that make my heart cry and my stomach squeeze with bile rising up my throat.

What happened next last night was 100% my dark side. I jumped up, said I better go, and bounced. Went straight to 7/11 and bought cigarettes (my first in weeks) and a 25 oz beer. Smoked a cig with the cashier then drove home in a daze, shaking so hard my leg couldn't stay on the gas pedal, it took real effort to keep it pushed. I smoked another cig and walked in my house and dropped the beer and got on the toilet, feeling like I would be sick. I didn't get sick or drink the beer I took off my clothes got in bed and had the aforementioned dreams.




Back to the present.
I feel nauseous. I can't type anymore. I don't know what's going to happen. I like this guy but I'm scared. More later.

Later babes





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