Anyway, we had the best sex ever. I mean EVER. He knew what he was doing, and he was only 19. I think, maybe 20. Regardless, I didn’t know his age until month’s later. By then it didn’t matter. I had regular sex on a daily basis. I was so exhausted in the mornings that I barely made it work.
I thought I would enjoy the attention. You know the sex. Because there was no other attention; We never talked, never conversed, never left my room. Go would call, come over (wink), do our thing and leave. Or I would call, he would come over (double wink), do our thing, and he would leave.
I was exhausted both mentally and physically. A few month’s of glory was also a few months of hell. I felt lonely and not loved. I wanted more. I want to be loved, talked to, taken out to dinner, a drink, a movie. I’ll settle for a walk around the block. As long as it is with someone that wants me to. Not just for my body, but for my heart, my mind, and yes ME.
So I digress I had the best sex ever and no love. I would trade good sex and no talk, to bad sex and love and comfort.
Okay, I might be lying. You’ll never know. Why? Because I sure don’t.
Why not Snail Mail is much faster.
I’ve been known to post some elaborate postings on the internet. I go all out with thoughts, goals, dreams and so on and so forth. At one time I think I did a dissertation and got many A’s. Other times I write a few paragraphs and rant and rave about dating men who are idiots. I have fun with those.
So here is my rant. If you took the time to read my looooong posting. Wich is a feat on its own. And then you too? the time to write back with more than a word. You know complete sentences and thoughts. I don’t get many of those. I read and am very happy and I respond to the email.
I get a message that states that the email is not accepted by AOL. Really? What the hell? Why go through all that trouble if you can’t receive my email. Next time send me your PO Box and I’ll snail you a message.
X boyfriends. Yes the Devils.
How do you stop from living your life due to an ex? I know I did at one point. I mean really. Why in gay hell would you still be friends with them? I always tried to be nice, and caring and be an adult about it. Nah. It doesn’t work. Not only are they ass holes, but so am I. I’ve done something that I may not be proud. It just so happens that at the time it seemed like the appropriate thing to do. You know to screw with them.
I think I may have crossed the line when I slept with my ex’s boyfriend. They weren’t compatible anyway. I was trying to prove that the guy was no good. That the guy was an ass and taking advantage of him was easy. I did it because I had a heart and wanted my ex to live his life well. So, I thought. I was just exercising some very mean emotions and taking it out on him.
Of course, every action deserves a reaction. This same ex came into town and told the guy that I was trying to get in his pants that we were having a baby and getting married. I swear I was about to close the deal on the guy and consummate it that night. Months of working hard to get him to trust me and feel comfortable with me. No. This jackass just comes over and starts putting doubt on the guy’s mind. The guy tells me that I’m trying to make my ex-jealous and he wants nothing to do with me. F(*&
I am going to revenge my sunken battleship. It’s kind of hard because we’re not on speaking terms as of late.
We have all been in one. Maybe we hadn’t considered it that way. At times we were not aware that we were in one. Sometimes we are so in denial that we trick ourselves that it doesn’t mean anything. Someone gets hurt at the end. That’s the only part I don’t like about an open relationship.
Why do women compete with a gay man for the affection of a heterosexual man? Granted, they wouldn’t be competing against a gay more for another gay man, now would they? So, why is it that many heterosexual women compete with effeminate gay men over a heterosexual man? What are they competing for? Is it love or is it procreation?
Dear Andy is an advice column for those in need of good advice. This article is about a sad little boy is afraid he’ll end up like his mother and in a horribly abusive relationship.