There are certain things that go on in my personal life that I don't divulge to blogworld. Sometimes it's because it's irrelevant, and other times it because it's nunyo. But right now, I'm about to confess something that I had intended on not writing about for the sheer shame of it all. I figure it's the best thing to do so that somebody will hold me accountable. Otherwise I'd just convince myself that what happened didn't happen.
What I failed to tell you guys last week was that Ex had contacted me. Remember the 'big fuckup' I referred to? It was not ignoring his text when I should've. I told him about three months ago to never call me/text me/stop by or anything. This was my way of burning bridges...at least until I was ready to reconnect with him. I knew I had the willpower not to ever contact him, and I haven't. But I wasn't so sure that I'd be able to ignore him if he ever contacted me, hence my request for him not to. Turns out, he didn't honor that request and I couldn't ignore him. Nothing too regretable occured that night when he texted me, but I knew I had opened pandora's box by talking to him. I knew it was only a matter of time.
That time came last night. I had had the whole day to myself to think, which is usually not a good thing I was feeling a bit antsy about the fact that we were talking again after so long. Things had been pretty nice up to that point, but I still had so many questions. What would make things different this time? How are we going to REALLY make this friend thing work? I needed some answers. I couldn't accept the fact that we were actually being cordial to each other without overstepping boundaries. I couldn't leave well enough alone. I just had to Talk. He told me that he had a few guys over for game night, but that he'd let me know as soon as they left so we could have a decent conversation. It was about 12am when he told me this.
I got some things done in the meantime. Did some homework, did my nails, watched a movie, all the while oddly looking forward to his call. Oh no. This isn't good, I thought. Why should I be looking forward to a call past midnight. Those are Booty Call hours! When the realization struck me, I told myself , Nooooooo you're not doing that! And around 2am, I turned off my tv and went to sleep. Well, tried to but for the first thirty minutes I was forced to listen to the moans of my neighbors having sex. Didn't really help matters either...
I finally made it to sleep around three but was awakened, not by an Ex Text, but by some other noisy neighbors. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. What the hell was going on that everybody seemed to be having sex last night? I was laying awake for about twenty minutes, contemplating whether or not I was going to bust my upstairs neighbor's apparent sex fest, when I hear my phone go off.
I considered not replying. But what sounded like a banging headboard made ignore that idea.
I was but my noisy ass neighbors woke me up.
They must be getting it cracking lol.
Well, I know you wanted to stop by but it's late so it's up to you.
It was decision time. I could say I was going there to talk but I knew I'd be lying. I knew full well if I went over to his room at 4am, what would happen. I don't know if it was the sound of the banging bed above me, or the sound of my heart beating in my ears, but something made me not give a fuck.
I've been awake for the past twenty minutes so I might as well stop by for a little while.
Keep in mind that I had to work a four hour shift at the gallery at 9am. But that didn't matter. Nothing did. It had been about five months since I had gotten any passable sex, (i.e. didn't last less than five minutes) and three months since I'd had sex period. I wanted it. And I wasn't going to let my morals, or my job, stop me.
I made it to his room and we chatted casually for a while. He told me about the game he and his mates had played, and I pretended to be interested. He put on a season of Family Guy and laid in his bed. I laid on his futton. We watched about three full episodes but all the while the tension was building.
He asked me if there was anything in particular I had wanted to talk about and I told him there was, but it was too late to talk. After a heavy, knowing silence he asked me the question that I'd been waiting for him to ask.
It sure as hell wasn't my conscience.
At approximately 6:30am this morning, I gave in to my baser instincts and slept with Ex.
And I did it again at 7.
I slept for thirty minutes until I had to go back to my room and get dressed for work. Went in all sleepy and sex achey. And on the day when it was open house for children to come and play in the museum. Triflin ass triflery in it's purest form.
All I could think about while I was at work was 1) how good those sex pains felt, 2) how bad I felt for being such a hoebag homewrecking loser, and 3) how the hell, I let that shit happen. I know it's been a while since I've had sex, but how did I just undo the past three months in one night? Hoooow did I let that happen?
I know I could've kept this to myself. Buried it away and pretended it never happened. But I don't want to. I clearly need some sense knocked into me because this wasn't a spur of the moment type thing. This was premeditated fuckery, and there's no excusing it. I was a woman possessed by the Dick Demon and I didn't give a shit about moral codes anymore.
KB, QQ: I was too afraid to text you all cause I already knew y'all were gonna e-beat my ass. Go hard, I give you permission. Everybody, please give me the verbal bashing I deserve.