*Note1: If you read this, completely…..you’ve got balls…..or your ovaries are on the outside today. Took hours to write….prolly won’t take hours to read, though…..

*Note2: usually notes come at the end, I know. But I thought it good to have a preemptive note this go round.

What does it mean when you’re fucking someone, and the second you start, you have someone else on the brain?

First, let me make very clear what “someone else on the brain” is—best displayed by telling you, firstly, what I wasn’t thinking:
•I was *NOT* thinking about fucking the other person.
•I was *NOT* comparing sexual experiences to that of the current one.
•I was *NOT* replacing whom was in front of me for who was on the brain.
•I was *NOT* wishing this person was there (for said act).

*Backstory: I was  last night, and felt he need to get into something, as it were, so I called  a sket, made the correct moves(conversationally), and headed out to the sket’s house. One thing that’s important to note is, other than about a month ago, I hadn’t got any in a LONG time—since the last time “we” did it. And even then, I wasn’t into it. It was basically the same as this time, except that this time it was A LOT worse. It was downright disruptive. I didn’t have that want to “hunt and conquer,” so I didn’t. So, when I came, I arrived alone….lol….(so that 1st time since “we” did it came for me, and I asked her(AAG) if she had, too. I found out that she did it 3days earlier than I had. It appears she had no prob with it on her side). I didn’t want to feel that way again, so I didn’t do it…..flash forward, and I did it again, but it was worse. It was so bad, that it was worth mentioning.

So, what *WAS* I thinking? Well, I *WAS* wondering how she was doing, what she was doing, and why we aren’t speaking, at all. I immediately started trying to figure out why she keeps doing and saying things to lead me on….I ran thru my relationship in my mind. I had a good looking ♀ bent over, but all I could do was think about someone who doesn’t…….iono…..care….respect me….iono…..all I could do is think about her. I didn’t even wanna fuck her, but just talk to her, hold her hand, and chill. I got sad. I couldn’t even keep Sgt. S. . I was so distracted that I couldn’t even do it how I wanted to do it. I had to sit , chill for a sec, then suggest getting blown instead….great effort….I mean, great effort. In any other situation, I’m sure I would have enjoyed it…I think I did, too…..physically…like the physical reactions were somewhat correct….but emotion I was so detached a distracted that I couldn’t enjoy it. And as distracted as a I was, it wasn’t really ‘bad’. I felt like thinking about it, only because it popped . I wouldn’t have thought about it otherwise. So I did. Some chick is fellating, and I’m contemplating…..she goes  stairs, eventually, and calls  asking if I wanna go a second round, and I say yes. I stand , pull my pants , check to see that I have everything on my person, and exit stage . Hop in the whip, and drive off. I can’t even remember if I closed the door behind me. I just needed to leave.

In retrospect, I think a lot of it was….err…..is that the sex is meaningless….again. Even if AAG wasn’t on it like I was, it meant something to me. It really meant something to me,  until the last time we did it. It meant so much to me. And now, its back to just busting a nut in the mouth or vag of some sket who I could careless about other than busting that needed nut…..but I can do that with a porno and my hand….and I have been, cause these bitches don’t mean shit to me. I don’t even feel like chasing. I’m sick of the act. I’m tired of even getting to know these skets. Even if I come across a real respectable ♀, I won’t know it, cause most the skets and women appear the same at the start, and I don’t have the patience to weed thru them. I barely have the patience to make friends.

She’s “busy.” I can’t contact her because she’s “busy.” I remember what happened the last time she was “busy” all the time. And shortly before and after that she was very rude, and cryptic, and elusive. That was the 1st break up…..with Dude involved…that I know of. —That reminds me, I gotta wonder if there was someone else in the picture before him. I always go back and reread saved conversations, emails, etc., and I’m still troubled by when she told a friend online that she may be pregnant, but its too close to tell. After a break up, I confronted her about it, but she said that that’s something too major to hide. But a pregnancy scare isn’t being pregnant. And it may be something only worth discussing with the father (to be). I suppose, unless she says something else about it, it will remain a bit of a mystery. Cause no matter how much she denies it, she wrote it. There is irrefutable proof that she wrote it. The question is why? Typo? Fuck no. How is that a typo in a conversation lasting days? Ambiguous? Fuck no. She actually typed, “How did you know you were pregnant? I think I might be, but it still might be too early to tell.” No ambiguity(tell me what you see).

But now she’s busy again. I’ve been making my calls’ subjects 2-fold. I want to be repaid for what we agreed I’d get paid back for, ‘and’ I wanna talk about what sparked her to not reply to me, but avoid me, and what her choice is(if you’ve not been keeping up, she’s made it clear that she’s really unhappy with dude, and that she misses me, and “atleast when we argued it was over something,” and she’s considering pursuing me because of my “short answer: “maybe” with an “if”/long answer: “yes” with a “but”” reply to “if I were single, would you ever consider taking me back. Ultimately, this lead to my giving a very true end of the year ultimately. I’ll be starting the rest of my life with her, or without her. Is  to her if she want to try. Long as parenthetical statement, huh?). Well, I’m sure it fair to think that she’s made her choice, but knowing her its “not what it appears.” To be fair, I’ll say that I did ignore her calls for about a month, but I did end  telling her before my hiatus was done EXACTLY why. I’d never mask it as being “busy.” And I told her why I feel the way I do, and I think it was pretty just. I’m leaving the situation with her alone, because even if she doesn’t say why, I could assume that its essentially the same reason. Yeah, she busy. Busy hitting ignore, or busy turning her phone off. Maybe busy reading my blog. She surprises me sometimes by referencing it at odd intervals. I don’t think she reads regularly, but she says she reads everything she’s missed when she does. Its not important to me that she reads it anymore. She’s proved too many times that regardless of what I say or type, it means little to her. She actually had the audacity to be upset with me for typing my(our) business. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you can look back now to see what she was upset about. I don’t give too much detail…..just enough for one to identify with. She wasn’t talking to me. I had to vent somewhere. Prolly mad its all about the stress she causes. Mirrors are hard to look into sometimes.

I digress…..or did I?…….

Well, rereading the emails was a strategy for me. Not really for her, but for everything. I have tons of shit that I have saved from god knows when, and I (semi-)routinely read over what’s there. I throw things away, but its always oldest shit 1st. I like to learn from what’s already happened. I pick up on people’s patterns, and habits, and lies. In her case(since this is 75% of my blog) I catch lie, after lie, after lie. There’s shit from 06 that I find holes in now. Between that and my memory, I get pissed about our past(happy, too. But that’s not the subject at hand). New things show themselves all the time. When I’m alone, something will literally pop , and I’ll be like, “damn, she lied about that, too.” Then I start to dissect, and I’ll prove myself , or wrong. If I’m , ‘sometimes’ I’ll bring it , but only if its rather important to me, or bothers me royal. I stopped bring shit  so much cause it started arguments over shit I wasn’t even mad about. JUST TO CLARIFY: a lot of the lies were along the lines of “what the fuck was the point of lying about that? That was dumb, and not needed. I suppose she had her reasons.” Shit like, “I’m eating Subway,” even though it was clearly Quisno’s. But looking into major shit, I’ve pointed out holes, and I understand that she was acting this way because she ACTUALLY was doing something. I always suspect suspect shit. She’d just try to say I’m being p’noid for no reason. I know there was a reason, and I was always(mostly) (what’s sad is that, sometimes I was wrong only because of sematics —but correct about deceit, and intent. “I actually only did this on tues, not mons and thurs” type shit).

So in rereading lately, I got a real chance to read and dissect shit from this year’s biggest fiascos. And I get pissed off. Really pissed. I only started reading because I finally sent all the emails to her that I said I would(long story short: in the blog where I said I’m deleting shit, I pwn’d her shit, and deleted everything about myself out of spite. I apologized—cause I can’t believe I went the “spiteful” route—, and said I’d forward a copy of everything, even though I’m not sure why it even matters to her). But I see where she’s been cheating for months, but is now giving me a hard time. Why? Treating me like if we broke , it wouldn’t mean a thing…..and it apparently didn’t. Cause we eventually did, and that’s what she said. Then she later apologized, and said she was wrong and regrets ever saying that to me.

But I learned I’m not over this shit. I don’t typically reread my blog, but I don’t remember really crying over her since April. I knew that there were times I probably would have, but I didn’t. I got angry. I got so stressed that it manifested itself and eye lid/lip spasms. I remember writing that I wasn’t even able to cry, and that I may break  later out the blue. Well, I cried today. If I cried before today, it must have been miniscule, cause I don’t remember. The ones I do; they were cries….balling….and I did that. Especially when I read what I typed for Valentine’s day. Cause I meant it. I really meant it. That was when she was treating me the worst ever……prideful, smug, brash, mean, like shit, like a 2nd class-stepchild that was involved with 9/11. The worst….but I meant every word I typed that day….I didn’t get to see her, she was REALLY avoiding contact….she stopped saying that she loved me…..she would go off at any time over NOTHING….she was under the MOST suspicion for cheating on me at that time…..but I meant EVERY word I typed….every word. I don’t know that its the same now, but it stirs me  to even think about it, let alone read it now. There’s stuff I haven’t noticed until today(which might be why this post is so long).

I feel numb. I know I’m not, cause I cried, and spoke about how I feel. But I feel that way that. Everything I watch on tv or see in a movie I identify with…..enough for me to write it, and send it into my blog….but I feel numb…..(or want to)…maybe I don’t wanna care….wants……and I thought I identified with shit before, but I didn’t….I only realized that I ‘could’ identify with it……now, I identi-fucking-fy.

Here I am providing her with bus fair to get around, though she never sees me. I think its a fair assumption that whenever I’d read, “I was downtown, just walking around, clearing my head,” that she was with dude. During the tornados, with dude. And I was surprised to see she didn’t take her mom to school, and its obvious (now) that it was supposed to be that way. Waking  early to be with dude, then carrying on with the rest of the day(apparently I forgot people could wake  earlier to do things). And I’m holding her hand(figuratively speaking) while her mom is sick, preying for her, and trying to keep her sane. I’m leaving school at 65-75mph to rush her a great distance away so she MIGHT have a chance to make it to the hospital to see her mom. I never thought twice. Never hesitated. Never asked questions. I just did it. I gave  the only day she was WILLING to see me for her mom; a woman who dislikes me so much (for a reason EVERYBODY admittedly agrees that she made  to suite her “dislike”), that she won’t allow me entrance to her house. That’s all me. That’s my support. Just like when she cried over her best friend’s murder; when her dad was injured and had to go to surgery; when she was fighting whoever, I would say, “give me the green light, and I’ll mess them ….I’ll get even for you, with you, whatever.” That was me. When she was kicked out, it was me who was on the phone with everyone I knew, finding her a spot to stay (free of charge) until she was straight; ready to have her live here until she could get straight; ready to spend my hard earned cash on a place for her to stay, even though I wouldn’t be living there. All me. And what did I want? To see her, be with her, touch her…….but naw……she’s always “busy” and “has stuff to do”. I’m holding her  more than dude is, but I get none of the love. He gets it. Then when he’s locked , I’m holding her  with EVERYTHING she needs and wants (that I can provide), but she’s longing to see him….sorry, she was seeing him almost everyday. That means that sed wake , get out of my bed, walk to my bathroom, shower with my soap and water (with a wash cloth that I provided), dry off (with a towel that I provided), tell me about some bullshit she had to do, kiss me, and go see that niggas behind glass cause he did something stupid. He did something enough times to get arrested…..that’s ……repeat offender punishment….the crime isn’t even arrestable until you prove that you’re so fucking thick, that you continue to, not only, do it again and again, but get caught and need heed the warnings or pay the fine, too. Its this that I’m replaced with……I’m not saying (nor AM I saying) that I haven’t done my fair share of offenses…..I’m just saying that I’m smart enough to not get caught, let alone be caught doing the same shit AGAIN. I don’t have a record. And should I get one, it’ll be for something good; not “on that humbug,” as Project Pat would say.

She screams that she wants to mend everything, and straighten everything out, but that’s always the case. This is the girl who cried wolf, and I’m the only villager willing to come to scene(besides dude, but I’m not worried about his feelings, too much). I try, though. I try so, so, so, so, so, so, much. I take a big leap of faith while her dude is locked . I asked her to do one thing to make a big step towards regaining my trust, and she eventually did it. I said, if you do it, I’ll just take it in good faith, and not bother with the questioning so much. I did my part, but she took advantage of what I said, and did it, and then lied from that point on.— She writes a letter to him, so I say “let me read it.” I want to cause its something I’m NEVER supposed to see, so I figure, if you prove me  or wrong here, it will show itself rather easily/quickly. I wanna give her a chance to be trusted, and say I’ll leave the questioning alone if I can read it, cause I trust that you’ll tell me the truth. BIG mistake, apparently. Every letter after that was everything I thought it would be: “I wanna marry you, have your kids and move in together…..not in that order, either.” But when I ask her its, “he never replied. I never got a chance to see him,” etc. I ask why she lied when I asked, and she said she didn’t wanna talk about it at that point…..but, the bitch and I had been together for months……she had months to break the news. It would have been so much easier had I not had to figure out (on my own accord) that I had been lied to for so long. I hate when people do that shit. Its not just her. But people never tell me shit. I always have to dig, and find out about shit, then they don’t understand why I’m mad. They don’t see where they could have told me earlier. BULLSHIT. But just like everyone else who’s done that shit (regardless of the amount or magnitude), I try to accept them for their fucked  choice(s) and let them back in my life.

Why the fuck am I always so surprised when it happens again? Am I the only one who learns? Am I the only one who cares about other people’s feelings?

So I do all this shit, but it doesn’t matter what I do.

In situations like this, niggas might kill the dude in hopes of recreating a real relationship with the ♀ they’ve been taking care of…….I’m not saying its , but I understand….don’t I understand…..I said myself that we couldn’t work on us if he’s still interested in you at all, alive, not in jail, or in the same city, cause we’ll just restart this shit. She said “he even sees how much I love you,” but he prolly doesn’t care. He’s getting what he wants, apparently.

I swear to god, that her obsession with the fleur de li(s) started because of him. He has it tatted, and then she got one. Then came his belt buckle, which she wore while he did his bid….he let me know that’s all he really wanted back from her. I wish she loved me enough to get a matching tattoo….or get my art on her skin…..or something associated with me on her…..she wouldn’t even let me draw something that she said she wanted….sigh…..everything I did, I did ‘because’ I loved her. I never felt that I needed to to do shit to win her love until (relatively) recently. I feel into a pit of despair, and then climb out of the feeling worthless portion of it. I later found out I felt so bad cause she was tormenting me unneededly(I know, but fuck it….you prolly don’t know…..sigh….word doesn’t ‘really’ exsist)……needlessly…..maybe she wanted me to break it off because of her guilt….iono…..its hard for me to believe she has a conscience….. but out of love, never for love……I wasn’t trying to keep her, or impress her….I just found it an easy way of expression….along with telling her SINCERELY that I loved her everyday(even when we weren’t talking, I gave in sometimes to make it the only thing I said)….and the love making…..touching…etc…..the bitch starting calling me daddy(again), but I’m sure It was auto text. At that time, she made it habit to call other dude daddy (she stopped call me that along with every other pet name a while before…..it was short lived, too).

I mean, really why does this matter to me? I’m not supposed to be like this. Before her, it was “if I break , I may cry if it was serious, and then I’m done with it. On to the next bitch.” I didn’t have to make a conscious effort to remove them from my life. I’m just drawn to her. Others have tried to have me around, and it doesn’t work. I’ve tried to stand others in any other capacity, but it doesn’t work. I don’t regain interest. You hurt me, so I’m done. But her, I can’t leave her alone. I can’t keep her out of my head. And she’s the same way(I think). If I ignore her, she (sometimes) begs for me to talk….to atleast say “leave me alone.” When she doesn’t, its me doing the shit. We have never gone more than 3 months without speaking since we’ve known each other, and that includes when we only typed to each other online, fell out, then made up.

But as strong as the attraction is, she won’t pick me over another niggas who’s, no disrespect intended, dirt bag loser. He shows no interest in her, but things about her. But mostly, he hasn’t been there for her. I mean, even when he was around….in the picture, it was me who kept her grounded. What the fuck? How do you turn your back on that? Who would put a bullet in their pitbull after he’s proved time and time again that he’ll protect you again intruders, and love you, and whatever else a great companion does?

Its easier for my soul if I believe that she really and truly does love me, but she’s missing something…..some emotional chip is warped and repairs are happening…..that she’s without a conscience……that she’s succumb to some compulsion and its not her fault…..unfortunately for me, I’m in love…..not retarded.

—but yeah—

What does it mean when you’re fucking someone, and the second you start, you have someone else on the brain?

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s