“Hate me today. Hate me tomorrow. Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you.”

Lying on my right side, a hand on my boob, beard nuzzling the back of my neck. Then just two days after, the voicemail saying “Ellie, this is fucked up, how you treat me. You’re dead. I”m done. I don’t give a shit”  because I didn’t answer the phone after 18 missed calls. The conflicting emotions of both detachment and being crazy about him.  Yep, KJ is back. He’s been back for about a week but I’ve been processing so much the words wouldn’t come for the blog. I’ve also worked on this post for a week, but the highs and lows have me constantly changing themes, so I’ve decided just to go straight with what’s happening.

Rewind to eight days ago, when I get a number from a phone number that I don’t recognize.  Then a voicemail that I listened to ten times, because I had resigned myself to the fact that he was gone, and it was for the best. “Ellie, it’s KJ. This is my new number. Hit me up. Need to talk to you.”  He sounded well. Told me he’d moved back in with his mom (about forty minutes away from me) temporarily while he straightens up. He got a job at a really nice restaurant. He wants to meet me in two days and is willing to drive my way to talk.

I see him. He tells me he wants an actual date, more than just hanging out at the bar, getting drunk, and fucking.  He sounds better than he has in weeks. We actually begin texting throughout the day and talking on the phone at night. Discuss how things might work since we no longer work or live near each other.  Agree to take turns making the trip.

Friday night comes and we both have to work at our jobs. The plan was for me to come to him (and meet his mom possibly…eeek), and have a drink with his new work friend. I got off later than expected but still made the drive. I talked myself into ending it all the way there. And then of course I saw him,  We had the best time and the best conversation ever. He tells me how he went out a few nights prior and met a 21 year old girl with big boobs who gave him her number, and how he could have fucked her that night, but instead he went outside and called me (he did in fact, call me five times that night while he was out). He told me he realized that she might be a lot younger, and for that-could be technically considered hotter, but she wasn’t me.  She wouldn’t be as good in bed. Or as smart as me. Or as witty. Or as fun. I fall into these words, as the past two years anyone I’ve grown to care about has always passed me up for someone “better”. For once, I have a super hot guy that thinks I’m out of his league.  He again accuses me of being closed off and tells me that’s not fair to him when he’s such an open book.

*Kiss*

“My favorite color is royal blue”

“Blue is my favorite color”

*Kiss*

“My favorite show of all time is Dexter.”

“I threw the remote after watching the last episode I was so invested.”

*Kiss*

“Virgo”

“Pisces”

It was a chick flick kinda scene. Complete with the funniest sex I’ve ever had. (Story for later but it has to do with KJ almost suffocating in an Easter basket.

We talk on the phone Saturday. He’s supposed to come my way on Sunday. I’m working (he knows this) and my phone begins ringing at about 5 PM. After thirteen missed calls, I pick up.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Work”

“Are you sure?”

“uh, yeah. Pretty sure.”

“You’re not at work.  Don’t even fuck with me Ellie”.

I hang up. My heart drops. He sounded so out of it. I receive a voicemail that says “I can’t believe you are fucking doing this to me, knowing what I’m going through. You’re dead to me. I’m done. I don’t even give a shit anymore.”  The funny thing is, I didn’t even react. I was expecting it.  He calls back at around 10:30 sober, didn’t even remember leaving the voicemail. As all addicts are, he was extremely remorseful.

Monday night, he surprised me by showing up at our usual bar before I got off work.  We had no drama. He was himself. It was the first time we really acted like a couple. He played pool, I hung out with my friends. We’d pass each other and give each other a kiss on the lips and an “I love you”.  These young girls were talking to him, so he’d put his arm around me and give me a kiss on the forehead for reassurance that he’s not interested in them.  He makes the comment that he can look at my boobs all he wants because they’re now his.  We kiss a lot. He tells me he wants to chill now with our life. He wants to cuddle on the couch and watch Dexter and eat pizza, just be a couple. (I never agreed that we are a couple but everyone else calls us that so I guess I’m going with the flow.)

Last night, he sends me a text that literally says “Ksssneds%%” . Sinking feeling is back. I say huh? He says “where are you?” I say “home”.  He responds “good, I like to hear that.” He follows up ten minutes later with another “where are you?”, in which I say “wtf? see above. I’m home.”.  He calls, and I ignore. I get another scary, slurry voicemail “Baby, call me. Please. Thank you.” I ignore it and text him that we’d talk the next day, That we need to talk.

The highs and lows are a new level of chaos. What’s screwed up is that I was upset that he didn’t keep calling over and over, because at least I know he’s safe when he does that, as annoying as it it.  Everyone knows that he’s dragging me down too. I’m mentally exhausted from the worrying and actually physically exhausted from the constant sex. Who knew I’d ever say that? I know I’ll be ready to reach the point soon where I’ll be ready to give up on him. I just feel I’m the only one left in his corner. But at what do we stop sacrificing  ourselves by being a good human being and helping someone toxic? I can’t go through what I did by losing my best friend, someone I love to addiction again. If I would have tried harder, it could have been different. So how can I give up on KJ?

 

“If you love me don’t let go. Hold on, hold on, hold on to me.. because I’m a little unsteady.”

KJ is gone. I lost him. Literally. No breaking up was required. Like “Bye Felicia” “Adios” “Sayonara” “Deuces”.   I knew something was wrong when he couldn’t remember having sex with me (see previous post), but I didn’t know it was that bad.  For my mental health, it’s for the best.  For my heart, it sucks.

I saw him Thursday and we talked and made up from Wednesday. He was normal.  We had fun, even though he was working. He chilled with my kids. After realizing I had feelings for him, I wanted to see if I could help him overcome what he needs to overcome.   We made plans for Friday, and for the first time, I was the one to say “I love you.”

Friday night comes and he doesn’t show.  I look on our schedule app for work and notice he’s no longer listed as an employee.  I have no way of getting in touch with him since he broke his phone so I called a coworker. She informed me that he came to work so strung out that it was dangerous.  He ended up walking out of work and going to a town about an hour away from us, to one of our other restaurant locations, where he proceeded to get more fucked up and kicked out.  He’s worked for our chain for over ten years, so I knew it was something major.  Everyone is concerned. His mom doesn’t know where he is. HIs roommate says he didn’t see him for a day and a half. I dropped by his place last night. I went to every bar I know he goes to. He’s nowhere.  He’s such a creature of habit that he never goes anywhere different.  I don’t have a good feeling.

He’s gone. And it is out of my control.  Even if he comes back, he still has to be gone for me. I can’t go through this again with someone I love. Addiction is a beast that love or sex cannot conquer. I feel like KJ has been dangling over the railing of a bridge and I’ve been holding his hand feeling his hand slip through mine, but at the same time, he’s trying to send me over with him.

With CS, I was heartbroken, I cared about him a lot. Loved talking to him and spending time with him, but I wasn’t in love with him, and he didn’t need me. I cried and cried and cried when he broke up with me.  I haven’t cried yet for KJ. I’m numb and protecting my heart, because when it finally hits me, it’s going to break me for awhile, there’s no crying for three days and getting over it. I had to sleep on the couch last night because I”m so accustomed to him on Fridays going to sleep with him curled up behind me, beard nuzzling the back of my neck, and hand on my boob. I actually had to wrap my arms around myself for comfort.  When I woke up, I had to stare at the ceiling and realize I don’t know if he’s alive or dead or safe.  And hear his voice in my head telling me just five days ago “I’m damaged babe. I love you but don’t do this to yourself”, before making love to me like he never had.

It’s so funny how life works. When I started posting about KJ and we were just having the best sex of our lives.  And then me not telling him I’m ready when he asked.  And then figuring out I have feelings for him by hooking up with someone else. And then him disappearing after I told him I loved him. There’s no closure to be had on this one. He’s gone.

 

 

“You’re never gonna grow up. You’re never gonna be a man. Peter Pan.”

This day is full of surprises. First of all, big shout out to CS.  Who would’ve thought that after all that,  he would be the guy friend I vent to about KJ? Second, I discovered that I’ve been in denial.  I’ve been able to talk to CS without any of the hurt surfacing. That is one of the things that proves to me what I’ve been pushing away. I’ve got feelings for KJ.  Just in time to get over him. Because he’s toxic for me. And a leopard doesn’t change his spots.  And a tiger can’t change his stripes. And Walruses still have big dicks. (Nothing to do with KJ, just a fun and random fact.)

I completely acted like I was in high school yesterday. I saw KJ flirting with a co-worker (that he claimed he fucked to another co-worker but I think that’s talking shit, she wouldn’t give him the time of day for that tho), and I lost my shit.  He also couldn’t remember that he fucked me on Monday, which a guy friend told me I need to get over, that when you’re having sex with someone almost every damn day, the days run together.  I shut him out all night at work. (CS used to tell me that shutting down was my biggest problem. Ironically, it didn’t hit me until we broke up and I’m with someone else that I realized he’s right).

KJ came in to our bar a little late and I decided to be friendly but he looked at me and said “I’m not in the mood for this bullshit Ellie.”  I bought him a beer (a good one, we ain’t talking PBR tallboys), and he complained that it was the wrong size. I bought him a shot and told him to chill and have a good time.  He told me he didn’t want to deal with me. So I did the immature thing and sought attention elsewhere.

TY is someone I’ve met a few times at our afterwork bar. Stanford graduate. Tall, smart, handsome, funny, successful. I was talking to him before KJ got there. But when KJ ignored me, I did the immature thing and went into full flirt mode.  KJ, already angry, slammed down his beer and left.  I had a pseudo hookup with TY out of anger.

I’ve regressed from partying like a college girl to playing high school games.  KJ brings out the worst in me.  He never grew up. I can see my mistakes,  I own my mistakes, and I know that this person I”m becoming isn’t me. I have to start working on myself.  And that means letting KJ go.  If only I didn’t have to see him at work. As CS told me, I knew better than to shit where I eat. (Hey, that’s kinda literal since I work in the restaurant biz.)

“We’re on the right side of rock bottom Into you, I just keep crawling You’re the best kind of bad something ‘Cause we keep on coming back for more”

Undeclared. We state this major in college when we don’t know what we want to be when we grow up. I think by a third date or hookup we should have a checklist that pretty much answers “what are we doing?” that we hand to our partner.  KJ and I decided that we are just considered “untitled”.

Untitled can be confusing. It’s that place where you’re not committed, yet you are a little bit more than just fuck buddies.  KJ and I have this: We’ve both agreed not to fuck other people (but seriously, his dick is inside me so much at this point, we don’t have energy or time to find someone else to fuck).  We will not say that we are together, because we are both flirts (actually do it in front of each other just to piss the other one off all the time. Healthy huh?). We talk about not future.  We hang out five nights out of seven (not just sex, like we eat or play pool or have drinks).  He’s always the first to say he’s sorry. At work, I get quick hugs from behind and forehead kisses.

Yet, he’s got too many demons he’s fighting for me to fall for him. As a mutual friend said, “Ellie, I think you’re good for him but I also think he’s terrible for you.”  When I have to step back and remind myself of this, he accuses me of being defensive and weird and distant.  See, my best friend died of drug use two years ago. Mentally, I examined on how I felt about KJ and wondered if I’m trying to save him because I couldn’t save her. But as my niece says “You can’t go around playing Captain Save a Ho'”

There’s no way I should be trying to fix him.  The addictions are always going to come in front of me.   But I’ve felt so broken after CS and online dating, that I like being the strong one. And the fact that each time I think I’ve had the best sex I’ve ever had in my life happens, we top it.

For example, who knew that  a three minute orgasm would be possible? I think I literally blacked out with his head between my legs last night, which happened with the car door open because we couldn’t wait to walk the five steps to his front door.  As KJ said last night, I don’t think either of us have ever experienced such chemistry with someone else. The thing is, he says I’m a distraction everywhere: during shifts we work together, when he’s playing pool and he can still see me from across the bar.

What do you do when you are truly undeclared?  When you have 9 and a Half Weeks type of sex and a Jerry Springer kind of (non) love and a When Harry Met Sally kind of friendship?

“I need your body in ways that you don’t understand. Because I’m losing my patience. We’ve been going over and over again.”

I’m still fucking KJ. Like really fucking KJ. Like almost every day.  As in, we see each other on my lunch break from my regular job and have sex, and sometimes again that same night after I’m off from the other job.  It’s messy (the situation not the sex) and exhilarating and of course, toxic.

With CS, it was a different type of chemistry. We had extreme chemistry but there was also a mental connection. With KJ, it’s just pure animal attraction.  He’s hot and charming and just watching him interact with customers is enough for me to know that I’m going to have to have him that night.   I can’t even say KJ and I are friends with benefits or fuck buddies. Our relationship, or rather lack of one, is comprised of fucking and fighting. CS used to tell me that I’m emotionally distant.  KJ says the same, as he’s an open book but he does not know a lot about me yet.

We spent our first night together last weekend. I took him to my other regular Friday night bar (which I swore I’d never take another guy, but since we’re not together I assumed it was okay).  TM was there from out of town and I told him to come on as I wanted to see him.  I talked to him and KJ made the scene of “you’re not my girl, you’re not my property, go for it if you want.”  The night wore on and KJ got more and more jealous. We got into it of course. Then went to the parking lot and had amazing make up sex.  We decided to spend the night together and he whispered in my ear “I think I’m ready” as we were falling asleep. I didn’t respond and he made the comment that there was his answer on how I felt.

After my no answer, he was standoffish the next day and night. Made snide comments. Yet we still had sex. It was the same on Sunday. After so much togetherness, I was grateful for a break on Monday, but it gave me too much time to think.  Tuesday came and we went to our after work bar at 5. We had a LOT of liquor. By 10 PM, we were screaming at each other across the patio. I was crying. I called him an egotistical asshole. He told me to stop acting like a crazy bitch. Which in turn, caused me to act like a crazy bitch and my coworker had to carry me outside.  KJ told me all I was to him was an easy fuck.   I told him at least I was good for other things too.  By 1 AM, we were holding hands and he was telling me to chill, he loved me.  I’ve never had a screaming altercation in a bar before. I was so embarrassed that I never wanted to return.

Last night, I brought my boys to my restaurant.  This was the second time he’d met them but it warmed my heart after coming back from the bathroom and see him sitting in the booth with them showing them magic tricks.  He nuzzles me with his beard as I’m leaving, and tells me to meet him at 6PM tonight. I’m nervous to see if he remembers or shows. This is the first time we’ve ever made plans without it being spontaneous…….

This is an extreme roller coaster ride.  Dangerous, and damn it’s fun.  Except this ride comes with no seatbelts. And no rules.

 

 

 

“The only time I’ll ever call you mine. I only love it when you touch me, not feel me. When I’m fucked up that’s the real me”

Warning: Extremely graphic post. If you get offended easily stop reading right the fuck now.

I’m on my back in the back floor of my car. (Who knew that when you lay down third row seating, you get the size of a queen size bed?) I know I’m going to regret the guy the next morning licking me from ass (who knew that would be so enjoyable?) to clit.  I’m having the fourth squirting orgasm of the night from the alcoholic, cocaine addicted fuck buddy who hurt me and made me cry just hours earlier. Here’s the story of KJ, who I’m seeing again in less than an hour.

KJ and I met about a month ago.  He works for the same chain as I and was helping out at our restaurant. He’s also been friends for twenty-five years with one of my coworkers/best friends  Belle.  Belle knew we’d hit it off immediately. She was right. I finally met the male version of myself. Unfortunately, it’s another situation that the chemistry is so there that other people are feeling it around us.  Also unfortunately, we are two trains that are going to collide if it doesn’t end now.

KJ is a lot of fun. But he becomes Emo KJ when we drink. And I don’t know how to deal with an emotional man.  After going out a couple of times with the group, and an uncomfortable karaoke duet, along with hot make-out sessions, we finally went out alone.  It was a normal, not overly drunk night. Our first time was amazing.  KJ admitted that I was the best he’d had in 15 years. He also told me he loved me as I was riding him.  He took an Uber home and I picked him up for the 9 AM meeting the next morning.  We had a great time in the car. He told me he was so proud of the way we fucked he told the Uber driver, who thought it was such a great story, he refused a tip.

Fast forward to last night. KJ, Belle, and I met at our usual bar around 5:30 PM. I told Belle about what happened with KJ, and she was thrilled.  Everything was great until she jokingly called him my man. Now, I admit I was in a funk last night. Had a lot on my mind, nothing to do with KJ. But drunk KJ is cocky and paranoid.   We were playing pool with two young guys. When all of a sudden, KJ turns to one of them and says “Excuse Ellie, she’s being weird. She’s got feelings for me.” The guy says “I think she’s fine.” KJ replies” Let me tell you a story. This girl has the best pussy I’ve ever had in my life. She can squirt and suck my dick like no other.” Uh–I”m standing right here listening to locker room talk about me.  KJ also says “But she’s emotional, and I have no feelings for her whatsoever.”  To which the guy replies “Yes, you do, or you wouldn’t be trying to get a reaction out of her so bad.”  KJ and I end up in a screaming match that Belle gets in the middle of, where he accuses me of being emotionally tied to my ex and because of that I”m ruining his night. He eventually kisses my ass to apologize. I told him that I’ve had many hookups prior, but no one had ever made me feel like a whore like he had that night.

Everything was ok for a bit. And then here comes DR (see last blog post). DR and I start talking a bit while KJ is playing pool.  (KJ knows I hooked up with DR that last time, he was there that night).  I wasn’t even flirting.  But after trying to talk to KJ, who’s being a dick to everyone at that point, we started fighting again.  He accused me of acting like I”m in high school. I called him a druggie who couldn’t get his shit together. (This is all going on in front of our coworkers, to the point that Belle screamed at us to leave because we won’t knock our shit off).

We get in the car, I tell him nothing will ever happen between us again, that we aren’t even friends at this point. I said “I literally hate you right now”. To which he answers “Hate me, but I seriously love you”  That’s how I got to the beginning of the story.  And to the first guy that I’ve felt made love (not fucked) to me in years. It was sensual. Every time he’d move inside me, I’d moan and he’d shush me with a kiss or tell me to just concentrate on how it feels and listen to the music at the same time.  We came at the same time. It was beautiful.  He made the comment it was so good because the fight was so bad.

We pulled back around to the front of the bar, where we noticed all our coworkers standing out front. The guys high fived him. We all laughed about it, until he confirmed he’s actually 15 trapped in a thirty something year olds body.   A car was making noise in the parking lot. KJ looked at our coworkers and said “Ellie definitely doesn’t need WD40. She’s way lubricated.”

Is a frat boy mindset worth the great sex? I am seriously sick of swiping and he’s way convenient, Or am I just sabotaging myself yet again?

UPDATE: Saw him this morning and we had a sober conversation. He apologized, which I don’t take seriously because if we keep doing this, it will happen again.  I explained to him that I don’t need everyone we work with knowing that I’m a squirter and I like anal. He explained that he’s way damaged but wants to remain fuck buddies. I need to be able to separate the emotional sex we have from actual emotions. So the song I picked fits perfectly. I’m not going to overthink and see what happens,.

 

 

 

 

“Sweet, sweet heart of mine I’m gonna break again a million times. Is this true or gone. Have you turned to stone?”

Do you ever want to do holiday analogies? Like Santa Claus is to the Grinch as Cupid is to ___________.  Like the guy who would go around and steal all the jewelry out of boxes before a guy presents it at an overpriced cheesy dinner. Okay, I’m bitter. Had a date last night right in the area where CS and I hung out. The bar was actually at the restaurant directly behind where we had our first date. Then on the way home I had to pass the Mexican restaurant we would go to, and the hotel we fucked in, and the tavern where he asked me to be his girl.  That tavern is what this week’s blog post is on. Or rather the guy who runs the tavern.

DR and I were a Tinder match a few months ago.  He and I had a lot in common, being that we were both in the restaurant business. I failed, however, at finding out exactly which restaurant.  We had a decent date, went back to his place, listened to music, where I introduced him to my favorite non-mainstream band, Whiskey Myers.  I was super attracted to him. Until we had sex. Great kisser. Great dick. Selfish in bed.  We parted ways.

Fast forward about three or so weeks. My buddy and I went to the bar across the street from our restaurant, and there he is, sitting at the bar with his can of PBR.  We strike up a conversation, do shots of Jack Daniels ,which results in me blowing him in the parking lot after a hot make-out session.  We saw him again the week after, where he acted as if I didn’t exist. Didn’t say hello or even look my way.  Saw him again the week after, and he came over  to start talking to me, but was a total dick. Such a dick that my buddy was determined to let the air out of his tires.

Less than two weeks later I was at the tavern mentioned above. I was happy. Sitting across from the guy that was proving (I was wrong but didn’t know that at the time) to me that what DR said to me while he was being a dick was completely untrue. See DR told me that  I was the girl guys fuck but never care to date.  But at that tavern booth I was someone’s girl, and when my favorite band, Whiskey Myers, came on in the mix with all the popular music, I took it as a good sign.  Until I saw the manager going around to every table in our section but ours.  Even CS made the comment that it must be because we looked so cozy. But I knew better. It was DR.  My mistake was that I never told CS, and towards the end of our relationship, when we went there again at his suggestion, I felt like it was too late to bring it up.  I did mention to him that night that I knew the manager from my bar.

Two nights ago my co-workers and I went out to this bar and got a little trashed.  My friend turns to me and says “Look at this sexy motherfucker walking in. He’s exactly your type.”  I turned around and saw DR walking in and giving me that crooked smile. I told my girlfriend “He’s exactly my type. He’s hot and a douchebag with a beard. I’ve already had him.”  He began talking to me and bought me a beer and a shot. I thanked him, and walked back over to my friends. He came right over to my section with my friends and hung out with me the rest of the night.  He mentioned that he’d forgotten that how before we hooked up, he actually enjoyed hanging out with me and talking to me.  We caught up on things for about two hours. I asked him why he said what he did, he told me he was just making a reference to Tinder chicks in general. He told me that he’d seen me both times in his restaurant with CS, but he didn’t want to make things awkward.  He also told me that he knew we’d break up soon due to the change in our demeanors from the first time he saw us there to the last.

End of the night, he pays and asks should we leave together. I told him it was late. We ended up getting in my car, where he kissed me and asked “what now?”  When I asked what he meant, he said “well, you didn’t want to go home with me so I figured it’d be a blow job in the car.” Ahhhh….. there’s the douchebag back again.  I told him that I wasn’t giving out free blow jobs without getting anything in return. I rode him until I came twice (good thing I know what I”m doing on top because he’s still selfish),. He asked would he see me again next week. I left it at maybe.

I went home and sobbed. And messaged my guy friend (interesting fact, he’s the guy I matched with working on his Ph.D that I’d already met at my usual bar in my prior blog post. We’ve become bffs.), who told me to not cry about it, look at it like I used him. I felt so empty. Before I had sex that meant something, I was good at just using sex as a fun activity. Now I can’t.   I got off with DR, and it was intense, but at the end of the day, it comes down to I fucked a guy who told basically told me prior that I was only good for one thing.  Is the whole double standard thing still in play? Or is the best way to get  over someone not really to get under (or on top) of someone else?

I wanna be the Valentine’s Day Grinch. He had a heart ten times too small. I want one that turns to stone.

 

“This is a modern fairy tale, no happy ending… no wind in our sails…But I cant imagine a life without breathless moments…”

As we know, I center my blog around music. I scroll through YouTube and listen to lyrics to find the perfect fit for how I’m feeling as I write. I’ve now discovered that when it comes to heartbreak, unrequited love, or complicated relationships, there’s a whole litany of choices.  But I found THE perfect one. So proud of myself. Never has a song described anything so perfectly.  (And here I was thinking Ed Sheerhan or Adele would do it.) So thanks Selena Gomez.

CS and I are in a complicated situation. We’re not really friends, or friends with benefits (we’ve had sex a total of once in almost three months) and can’t be in a traditional relationship. I guess this is the new term situationship.  And it’s hard. No way, no how do you EVER fall in love with someone you’re in a situationship with.  But I could. And even worse, I told him.  (Well, I told him I WOULD fall in love with him before the situationship was over ) To steal from Michael Scott (the Office) who stole from Wayne Gretzky (I know he was a great hockey player but I’m a southern girl so that’s really all I can say about that), “You miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take.”   Don’t apply that in a situationship. Miss the shot. On purpose. Because if not, you’re going to wind up feeling like that puck full on hit you on the face.

CS mentioned to me today that in the beginning, I was fine with things. He’s right. I was. I’m still fine knowing that our situationship is a day to day thing and as he says “we’re not going to ride off in the sunset together”.  But even though no future is desired or expected, I did want things a little more relationship-y than a situationship could ever have. The good morning text. The good night text.  The ten minutes to talk when I feel like my life is falling apart.   But we do talk on the phone almost every weekday. And share things that a situationship wouldn’t normally.  He says I’m his girl. That he’s my guy.  I didn’t think I’d ever connect with someone again on this level both mentally and physically.  And I’m in a panic mode. Because I took the shot.  And in my head, I let us get relationship like. And I was shown that in his head it is situationship instead. He kept it where it always has been. Where it is going to stay. Now I’m embarrassed, and running.

That’s the thing about whirlwind romances. It’s exciting. It’s intoxicating. It’s a high. It’s a quick connection. And then you fall. Without having the time to catch your breath to see if you can handle it. Then you start to argue because you haven’t gotten used to how things are going to be. And the more you argue, the more the passion seems to be your norm. Until you realize you’re not having the fun that the situationship was set out to be. Is simply living like there’s no tomorrow going to work? When the thought of never kissing that person again makes your heart break.  When there’s no future, how do you determine if it’s worth saving? Because the heart truly does want what it wants, and I want nothing more to see this through until it’s natural end. I just don’t know how.

“Just going to stand there and watch me burn. That’s alright because I like the way it hurts.”

The one guy I’ve never written about.  The only one who was not a fleeting hookup. The one that has been in my life for over a year and a half, if not exclusively, at least consistently.  He turned me into “that girl”.   He is a narcissist who literally pouts when he can’t get what he wants.  And he had me so turned around, that he made me hate me at times. Ours was the quintessential toxic “non” relationship.  Here is the story of NP (no where even near his real initials-more on that in second).

My coworker decided to swipe for me on an app I hadn’t tried yet.  I match with the hottest guy ever.  He’s tall, perfect body. From the text conversations, intelligent.  I meet him at his house and while it wasn’t the instant chemistry I now know exists , it was fun, and all I could think of is that this super hot guy was interested in MEEEEEE!  We hung out, messed around (blow job) and it was great.

We continued to talk/text and see each other once or twice a week. He was (is) super convenient, lives three miles from where I live and my office.  It was always the same thing. We’d be buddies. Mess around. Blow job.  I decided to do some research after this was going on for a couple of months. He’s a retired NFL player with a local presence. And for that little bit every week, he was mine. It was fun. Until it wasn’t.

I went for a few months without letting on that I knew who he was.   The truth came out after he threw a sock at me while getting dressed and I accused him of throwing like a girl. Apparently retired football players don’t think that’s a very funny joke.  Everything changed that day. He had a TV appearance he was filming that night for sports commentary.  He told me to watch closely when it aired, he was going to give me a nod and a smile and I was the only one in the world who’d know what it was for.

NP started traveling for his side gig after that. It was supposed to be understood that I was available for him and him only (which you can see by the former blog posts, that wasn’t going to work for me).  When he was coming back in from out of town, I was to drop everything I was doing, and be there waiting for him as soon as he got home.  If I wasn’t, he would ignore me for days, he’d send me Snapchats of songs that were meant to put me in my place. (Chris Brown-This Ain’t-for example) or pics of him at a famous R&B singers wedding to remind me who he was.  The more he did this, the more I’d resist him, just to prove to him that, to quote Pretty Woman,  I was “nobody’s beck and call girl.”  But I used him too. Anytime I had a bad dating experience, I’d call him up. To remind myself that this unattainable guy had a slight addiction to me. Major self-esteem booster.

One night I was out and refused to be waiting for him at his house (I knew the codes) when he got home.  The next day, he skull fucked me so hard I was bruised around my mouth.  As fucked up as this sounds, that moment made any future blow job for any other man fantastic. I’ve always been talented in that area but NP taught me the ways of deep throating.  It was kind of necessary as I really thought “This is the way it ends. Choking on a dick. How appropriate. And because of WHO he is, it will be all over the news too. Sorry Mom and Dad.”   But this was the night that put forth the toxic cycle him and I had.  Another time to “punish” me for not being there when I was told, he picked up his phone to text during a bad moment. All to show me I could be replaced.

It’s embarrassing to admit that this cycle went on for another nine months.  Over the summer I moved and started working an additional job. I didn’t have much time for him. He ghosted me. Blocked me on every phone number and social media account. This was a guy that I’d been seeing for over a year.  Now, I broke up with a three year actual relationship and didn’t cry. With NP I cried for two days.  He’d never cut me out of his life completely.   ANNNNNDDDDD….. then he came back.

I had grown accustomed to the fact that he was never wrong,. that everything was going to be my fault.  And I admit I went right over when he sent the “we need to talk message.”   He pretty much acknowledged that we were like a drug to each other.  We made the decision that until one of us (him) got married (engaged or relationship didn’t even count) that it would be him and me. That this would keep going on.

Fast forward about three weeks later, I’m sitting in a booth across from a guy that terrifies me emotionally. He gets me.  There’s so much chemistry around us that we almost got kicked out of a bar a few days later (more on that later).  He refuses to have sex with me because he doesn’t want to screw things up. And he wants me to be his girl. And I agree to be his girl.  The next day I get a NP message. “You busy?”  I stare at my phone for a few seconds , press down on his name, and hit “Block User”.

So, NP. The end of our game. The fourth quarter is over. The stadium lights have dimmed. I’ve walked off the field.

“One way, or another, I’m gonna find ya.. I’m gonna get ya, get ya, get ya.”

When Blondie sang this in 1979, there was no such thing as googling someone. To find her love,  Debbie Harry had to “drive by her lover’s house”, “Follow your bus downtown”,  and “walk down to the mall and hangout by the wall.”  Now it’s as simple as a click of a button if you have enough information, such as the phone number they’ve used to connect with their Facebook account. You can even find them with minimal information such as googling their profession and first name in the hopes of a Linkedin profile.   My point is, gone are the days when you’d need to sneak a peek at their wallet or their phone when they are in the bathroom to gain info.

Stalking can be either good or bad. In today’s age of meeting up with  virtual strangers, it can be the safe thing to do.  I’m a life lesson in this.  I chatted online with a guy I thought would be hot to meet for a morning quickie. And he was hot.  He had the nicest 9 inch cock I’d ever seen by pic.  The morning I paid him a visit, physically he did not disappoint.  The more we kissed, the rougher he became. I learned the term “skull fucking” that morning and through my mind ran the thought that this was the first dick I was going to have to bite. I could not breathe.  He then turned me around and pounded me so hard I bled like a virgin. This was my online hook up turning point. I swore I would never pay anyone a visit again without extensive online research or meeting them first. I googled this guy a little too late. He’d recently been released from prison in another state for assault charges.  Something that definitely I would have and should have known going in.

You always have to be prepared for what you find in your stalking.  RG asked me to come over tonight. I checked his Facebook page out of curiosity. (We are not friends and weirdly his cover photo is a pic of his celebrity twin.)  He posted the other night about feeling incomplete. He posted today that last night he had a date with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.  Yes, I am well aware we are just having fun.  But there was an itty bitty part of me that was pissed he had a date last night and wanted to fuck me today.  By the way, I did not go.

In today’s digital age I guess you have to take the good with the bad. It protects us from criminals but we might prejudge someone based on how many cat pics they post on their Snapchat.

Always-Ellie

UPDATE: RG took the post about his beautiful woman down and KG Ultra is still hot on me.