Sunday, July 20, 2008

This Post Will Be Edited

To include more information about how to fuck somebody who is tied spread eagled to a four post bed. Or, perhaps, tied with both their wrists and their ankles tied to the top two posts. Yes, that may well be what the post will be about, when it is edited.

Friday, July 18, 2008

Howzzat for a Whine?

Thank you to everyone who called and commented. I've been using this blog as an emotional outlet for years, and its only recently that anybody who cared was reading the thing. It changes the nature of my bitch-posts. They can nolonger be just ranting into a space that only Boy and myself will be. The terror of the blog is that I let y'all into every little down, and I worry that you might not have a good hold on just how little they are.
That said, having read your comments, everybody seems to have a perfectly sound grasp on where I'm coming from when I do this. Utter, sincere, miserable dejection, but the dejection of a moment. Nothing more.
The Irishman commented to me that I seem to be having some trouble dealing with space and my relationship. Half the time I'm grabbin' for more distance, half the time I'm begging to be loved. I hope the swings are less drastic for Boy than they feel for me, but the truth is, I'll even out.
I graduated from university just a few months ago. I haven't yet started my new life with Boy. Everything is going fine, but still, living in the middle of a very long, very intense transition has got to be creeping in around the edges. I think for him as well as for me. Actually, I know for him. And for everybody in my like situation.
My goal is just to not freak out about freaking out. To ride my emotions, deal with the lows and enjoy the highs, and if I haven't evened out in a few months, when things are settled, well then I'll think about it. For now, I take for granted that Boy and I will be fine, we are in love, we'll make a happy home, and everything will work out eventually. It will bump and we will fight and I might do myself a mischief, but that's run of the mill by now, and as long as we keep talkin' we'll be fine.
So, just so you know. That's how I feel, really, basically, at the bottom of it all.

And in the mean time, when things are edgy and there's nobody around to talk to, I will spill my brief miseries to you here on the internet, and because I am embarrassed that I do, I will not take them down. Better to own to my idiocy than remove all trace.

Reunion with Boy in just two days. This time, no cramps, no bleeding, and extra hormones for the nobabies.

I intend fun.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

I didn't post....

And this is a fake post, too.
But, see... two or three years ago, I remember, Boy went away to Israel for 10 days. And at the time, although we didn't always see eachother, we had been ending our evenings chatting every night in recent memory. Or, at least, it was the end of my night. Boy's always been a night owl.
I've been gone just a few days, but yesterday evening we didn't talk, and tonight, I got online to find that he was on his way out. I begged him to stay a bit, only to get in a fight.
So now, I feel... less than adored, and like a stupid bitch for being antagonistic, and lonely. And tired.
And what it comes down to is I wish that either we were in a sweet lovey-dovey place where he was interested in talking to me on the internets or the phone even if he did have other things he'd wanted to be doing,
I was in a good tough happy place where I didn't give a shit what he was doing and could go to bed and masturbate thinking about someone else entirely and glad of the personal space that the miles currently between us provide.
But, instead, here I am, feeling lonely and crappy. I was feeling a little unloved before we started talking, and then I went and had to be a bitch, so now I'm feeling lonely and justifiably unloved.
And also passive aggressive for posting about this, but I don't care if Boy's got his own name to post under now, this has always been my blog and I've always posted when I'm feeling relationship-down, so I will do so now.
We'll be fine. I'm just not getting what I wanted out of space. I don't feel like he gives a damn that I'm gone, or a damn about how I'm doing or a damn about when I'm getting back, except that it oughtn't occur when he's got any other appointments.
And I spent a long time with Boy not giving much of a damn about me, and it's only allowed to continue if I can not give much of a damn about him, either.
Which, of course, wasn't an option then or now.
Standing in love with a partner who's far away and distracted far away, when your other play partner is out of touch and you've had a long day involving dental work just sucks.
I wish he coulda stuck around to make me feel better instead of reading this here. I wish I were feeling strong and independent and ready to go out and catch me another man when the main one got defective. I wish I hadn't been antagonistic at the wrong time. I wish I hadn't needed to ask him to stay and talk.
I wish that things were going in any one of the directions planned, instead of the way they are.

I have spent the last half hour leafing through the blog of a woman I don't even like very much, and checking my e-mail over and over, and checking my buddy list over and over to see if anybody I am close to has signed on.
When I was younger I used to sit and call through the friends in my address book till somebody picked up and talked to me. I hated that and I hate this.
I don't know why I'm such a pathetic sot tonight, except that I wasted my brief time to talk to Boy in being a bitch, and then I saw a picture of Delano and Michelle and wondered about not being that for him, and him going to find somebody who is not antagonistic about how he deals with his ambitions, but is perfect and just fits all the time. Which probably is impossible, but it's always the impossible girls that are most terrifying.
And I haven't talked to The Irishman for like two weeks, and I miss him.

And, fuck it, it's been three days and I just miss Boy. I want to feel like he misses me too, and I want to talk to him about the leather boots my mom is giving me and the weather and his ambitions and talking to my dad and I don't want to sit here writing this in a blog because I've reverted right back into that pathetic and hated version of myself just as soon as I settled down from my independence streak.

This blog is the only person I've got to talk to, and I wish I wasn't desperate enough to talk to it.

I suck.

Edit Edit:
And his phone's dead, so I couldn't call him even if it seemed like he'd want to chat.