God help me, he was so different, so amazing, so beautiful and wounded and quiet.... i could not help myself. a pastors kid, and a virgin to boot. a gentle and shy closet bisexual. that flawless beautiful smile, eyes that were both gray and brown... why? i don't know. he kept casting me fleeting glances, or maybe it was the alcohol and the hookah full of blueberry.... maybe i was just damned lonley, and he was too. he let me kiss him. he kissed back, and very well too.
then i had to go
i saw him again last nite
the shy smile, the darting glances
i chattered nervously, then a real conversation evolved.
and back to the long looks, the ones that leave your palms clammy and your stomach burning with anticipation, that delicious torture, the glorious excitement.
one of the few shining moments in this life worth remembering are the moments before a new kiss.
i felt sweet and innocent and 15 all over
for a few hours i forgot my problems, and found a quiet peace in his sad eyes, his nervous embrace, his tenative touches. for a few short hours, i felt like me.
he was nervous, but disarmingly so. and the kissing... divine.
we did not have sex
and i did not care
i was suprised when he admitted he was a virgin, even more suprised as he hovered his nude body over mine, trying to decide if he was going to have sex with me or not.
maybe he was just being nice, but i was flattered in a deep way
i would have been content to just talk to him all nite and play with his hair, getting lost in those beautiful and sad eyes
ah, how i long to bring them down: those self absorbed fucks who pretend not to care. am i wrong to twist the knife, only to watch them squirm? maybe. but fuck them. i have no compassion for those who are not compassionate to me.note:
my roomate is stunning, to say the least. a dark italian beauty with a killer body and the ability to play dumb so well, that a rational man is reduced to a slavering moron in her presence.
enter my current situation, and a bad night. we left to have coffee, and ended up at kittens house. i am by no means ugly, but i don't have an immediately noticable sexy like she does. to say the least, it can get a bit depressing to be the "ugly" friend, which was the role i was thrust into all nite as she was fawned over by the guys in the house. but i cannot hold it against her, i do love her dearly.....
cue the next nite. i was drunk and stoned, she was drunk and horny.... back to kittens
ah, but darling, my dear little pussycat.... i adore you.
but
we did not come for you
we came for the poor skinny white boy
to write these words gives me a sick and obscene pleasure.
you asked if i was jealous, asked about the bite marks you left on her, asked if she had fun....no.
she bitched that you were a lousy kisser, and wrote you off faster even that you wrote me off. you and i, at least are friends, even though you can bring out my demon, the bitch that wants to hurt
twist the knife
pour salt in the wounds
she merely settled for you
ah, darling. you are beautiful. truly and deeply, even if only in my eyes
and i don't understand why i want so badly to hurt you
i know i can't
or if i did, you wouldn't let me know
but even just to kick you off your ego trip for just a moment....
you cannot fathom the sick and twisted pleasure that gives me
she
did not
want
you.......
so guess what world? soon i will be alone. in 2 months, my significant other and i are separating. fun stuff, huh? and oddly enough, though it was pretty much my idea, i don't know how to handle it. i love him, i always will. but i need freedom. i need to figure out who the hell i am and what i want. unfortunately, it seems i have learned the hard way that i don't like being tied down. and to think, all i used to want was to be married, to have someone to take care of and to take care of me. hindsight is indeed 20/20
in a way, i feel bad. i don't want to hurt him, but it's not fair either to stay together when we are not happy. will we be divorcing? that i don't know. i'll have to figure it out like everything else in life :the hard way........
still suffering an insane writers block. unfotunately, the only thing coming to me is shitty rage induced poetry with sub-par verbage and imagery. i need a new muse.
since my return from Florida, I have been behaving myself to excess, and since doing horribly bad and sinful things has been my only source of inspiration, I'm tapped out.
*sigh*
whats a girl to do?
seduce virgins? make hordes of straight women gay? drug someone and take advantage of them?
not in this lifetime
maybe I should just utilize my exceptionally overactive fantsay life and see what unravels from that.....
and if that doesn't work, it's time to go back to being bad.
I have been a bit bored lately.......m
hmmm... need to write. something. anything. need to vent.
to someone who will never read this:
i despise you. i look at you, you snarky cocky son of a bitch, and i want to rip the fucking smirk right off your face.
but is it really you i hate?
ah, sadly, no.
i hate myself for letting you in. i hate that i didn't see your faults, just overlooked them in favor of viewing your hidden self, the sad and vulnerable you.
i hate that in my own way, i let myself love you
i hate that you don't care that i have been so cold to you. it only serves to remind me you never cared for me the way i stupidly let myself care for you.
you are a fucking waste of human life. an unfeeling selfish bastard. i wish i could rip out your black little heart and show it to you, make you realize what you really are, and watch the painful regret of being a waste of life cross your face before you collapse dead before me.
but i cannot make you see yourself for what you really are. and even if i could, i still would not be able to bear the pain that it would cause you.
i love hating you, and i hate loving you.
what the fuck am i to do with my sad self, but continue to ignore you and wish you would go away?
and, sadly enough, plot and pray for your downfall.....