Drama Queen

Ahhhh... I'm doing this again. I didn't think I would but I am.

I'm venting about my relationships on my blog. Ew.

So the gentleman from the bellow post and I have fallen hard for one another. Painfully hard. Even though I feel like I'm so in love with him, I also feel like my heart is breaking all the time. I feel like a little girl. I just want to be noticed all the time. This is going to sound like the most pathetic thing, because it is, but I actually had to delete his number from my phone to keep from texting him today.

He told me he wanted me to let him in and tell him everything, but I dont think he realized how much their really is. I'm honestly more comfortable hiding everything from him so I think I'm going to go back to that. I don't want to be a drama queen so I'm going to ignore him for awhile. Try to make myself lose interest a little.

Uhh. I guess that's it for now.

Over and Out

Making Love

So I've been seeing a young man who works with me. This is not the time nor the place to be rambling about our psuedo-relationship, but I've got to do it somewhere.

For the purposes of this blog I will begin calling him James Blunt, James for short. Not to be [in any way] confused with that terrible singer/songwriter.

James are I have been working together for several months, but were always in seperate relationships and had only said hello and goodbye in passing. Something very strange and magical happened recently and we both were released from our wreched relationships. Almost instantly we started texting each other all the time and he would stay later to talk to me every day.

Very quickly, lets backtrack to when we first began working together. He is tall and skinny and my-type-y and I thought he was very cute. I honestly judged him to be boring and densish. He seemed like a total bro. Holy shit! I was so wrong!

Last week I asked him to go see a movie with me. I called it a "not-date", as I often do. Not-dates are very similar to "friend dates". The only difference is that I am interested in the person I go on the not-date with. So here we are, watching this terrible movie [Watchmen review coming soon], and he puts his hand on my knee. I, of course, put my hand on his and there it stayed for the greater portion of the movie. Then I kissed him. His lips were soft. He tasted so good. I just smiled. I can't believe I did that.

After the absolute abortion that is Watchmen is over, he walks me to my car. We kiss. It's heavy, passionate, and perfect. I end up pinned with my back against my car as we kiss and let me tell you, you could fucking see the heat rising off of us! We stop. We're in public. Too weird. We part ways.

[note: this story will get weird and steamy very soon]

The movie was on Friday night. Sunday, I drive two towns over, like a fucking chump, to see him. We've been texting each other constantly. We can't get out of each other's minds. Blah blah blah.

I get to his place, and it's instant. Tearing each other's clothes off. Wild passion. Then, out of nowhere, this skinny white boy pulls a dick the size of my forearm out of his pants. WHAT?! I was a little excited, mostly scared. We made love. I want to say we had sex, fucked, copulated, consumated. But really, we made love. I was nervous. It hurt a little at first. He is so sweet. He kept asking if it hurt and slowing down. It felt amazing. Everything did. The kiss, the sex, even just the way he ran his fingers over the small of my back.

We got lost in the moment, something I've certainly never done with anyone else. I'm cynical and clinical. I didn't believe in love, much less two [way too young] people's ability to make it. He honestly wants to look into my eyes. He wants to kiss the tip of my nose and my forehead.

The night ended in him not being aware of my lack of birth control options and one of those big, possibly life-changing OOPS! moments.

Monday morning I buy Plan B at Rite Aide.



Tune in for the next installment entitled "Get Over Her" sometime in the near future.


Over and Out.