I let you read the poem that's about you

and I wonder if you know if you're the basis

I can't get you out of my head

and those fucking moments.

I think I'm sad we didn't have sex.

Pimp Pussy

I really really really really really want to have sex.
I miss that intimacy shit, y'know?!
Like. I would rather have sex with someone I was totally in love with
and for the longest time I thought that was the only kind of sex I could ever have

but really....I mean, really.....does it matter?
I'm single. I am not tied down. I have feelings for Kevin, yes, and I would prefer

to only have sex with him...but....

I am a single woman.
Don't get me wrong, if I was with Kevin, it would on be with him. Just as it was with Mike.

I miss sex.
I miss making someone feel happy through pleasure.
That sounds so bad but it's true.

It's 4:10 A.M.

Boys are my weakness; I'm a natural whore

I haven't written since February. And everything has changed since then. Mike and I are no longer together. Which is hard for me to say at times, even though I'm mostly over it (or so I want to believe). Probably the worst part about not being with him is the leftovers. I have a lot of his stuff, all of the stuff he gave me, and whenever I drive past certain places or hear about certain things, I think of him. 

I cried, begged, and cried some more after we broke up. I didn't want things to be over. But I started hearing from him less. He wouldn't text, I would. He wouldn't call, I would. I just tried to keep telling myself that if he loved me, and he really missed me, he would call. Regardless of the fact that he needed his space, I just thought if everything really mattered, he would call. But I eventually had enough of feeling like I was the one trying and he wasn't. So I deleted him off of Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc. It felt weird. The person I was madly in love with for almost 3 years...was no longer part of the stupid social media things I cared about (and wish I didn't). 

But..something strange happened. I didn't dwindle. I didn't waste my energy worrying about him and wait for him to love me. I wanted to talk to other guys. I wanted someone to pay attention to me, to like me, even if it was superficial and stupid, I just wanted attention. I hate that. I hate that I needed it. That I couldn't even let myself breathe a minute before getting into hot water again. But...it's what I do. And I do it well.

Anyway. Talking to a couple guys at once is fucking difficult. Nothing was ever serious. Not until Eric. And then not until Kevin. 

I like Eric. He's intelligent, incredibly intelligent as a matter of fact, he has a college degree, he has a real job, he's so interesting to. He says he's boring but I absolutely love talking to him for hours on end. He makes me think about so many things. He makes me wonder about so many things. Of course I think he's attractive. But he's an adult. A real adult. He has a real adult career and he's not going to wait on me hand and foot. He barely texts. But when we talk, it's fun. It's great.  We haven't actually talked on the phone in a week or so. I miss it. But..

then I met Kevin. 

I didn't care much for Kevin at first I guess. I couldn't ever get a good read on him. He texted different. He was sweet though, in his moments, and I thought he was incredibly fucking cute. He's honestly exactly my type. Which is funny, because he messaged me first, even though I looked at his profile and there was nothing wrong with it. I have no idea why I never messaged him. Kevin is...everything I could ever want in a possible boyfriend. But I feel like he..holds back. He's shy. He laughs when he's nervous. I feel like he's a project. But I'm scared if I'm too much, he'll back away. And I can't ever tell if he really, really likes me. 

He came to visit me after a week of talking. Crazy, right? I didn't know what to expect. But as soon as I saw him get out of the car, I was fucking hooked. He walked in the door, super tall, super cute. Beard and everything. I honestly wanted to kiss him right then and there. But we didn't. We sat down, he met the dogs, they liked him. We went to eat. Dinner was nice. We laughed, we talked. I felt comfortable with him from the start. He was sweet. Goddamn attractive too. 

So then we drove around and I took him to Bellingham park. Mind you, it was like..10 PM maybe? I don't even remember. And it was pitch black. We're in my car. I turn off the lights. And he kisses me.

I

love

being

kissed.

I haven't been kissed since Mike, since January. And as much as I loved his kisses, I loved this so much too. He was gentle. Shy, I could tell. He gave in a little, but not all at once. And it was wonderful. 

The thing about Kevin..he needs to be coached. He needs someone like me to help him..because although he's had sex, and girlfriends, I don't think he knows exactly what to do in those kind of moments. The moments where it's just two people alone, the sexual tension is popping off, and all you want to do is grab each other. Generally, I like guys who aren't afraid to give in and do what they want. And I think Kevin will learn with time. Although he is very good at everything we did. We did almost everything you can do with your clothes still on. 'Twas good. Real good. 

We almost had sex. Almost. I'm happy we didn't. I asked him if having sex would ruin anything that could possibly bud from his and he said maybe. And the fact that he wouldn't give in to it either, makes me think that he wants to see where it goes too. I hope so. Because I'm really fucking into him. I haven't felt this way about someone since Mike. I didn't feel this way about Eric either. I like him, I do. But...with Kevin, it fits.

We have so much in common. We have similar life goals. If nothing ever gets too deep with Kevin, which I hope it does, I think we could be great friends. He's someone I want in my life. 

Fortress

Insecurity is ruining my life.
I hate college
I hate not being with Mike, in Connecticut
I hate not knowing if I'll ever have what I really want
I hate not knowing if what I really want is what I'm meant to have
I hate the past
I hate that I can't let go of the past
I hate that I can't be truthful with myself
I can't even talk to myself
Every time I try to look in the mirror and talk to myself, I end up wanting to cry


Not a lot has gotten better over the past few years
I still feel broken
I still feel incomplete

but I know there is something out there that I'm meant to have
whether it's a child, a career, a hobby, I don't know

I don't want to give up before I know it
and once I know what it is, maybe I can die happy

maybe