Honestly, You Should Stop Calling Me
February 14, 2011 § Leave a comment
I didn’t really like you in the first place, beyond our initial drunken day and about ten seconds into the fucking. You smelled wrong. There’s something about the mouth meat and the skin smell that can let me know everything I need to know about where a relationship is headed.
This one guy, when we kiss, I pay zero attention to proper form. I don’t even know if you can call what we do kissing so much as mouth copulating. Sometimes we just lay, mid-fuck, with our faces smashed together, lips tightly closed, and I can smell the kind of fights we’ll eventually have. When he leaves I hate to wash the sheets. We fuck like teenagers living in some cold winter state, and I can tell you already where he and I are going.
You, though, from the moment we kissed I felt like I was licking the inside of Marianne Faithful’s withered old lungs. That was why I didn’t spend too much time kissing you. But I’m an opportunist, and the concept of you was of interest to me. Your successes could be of use to me, and your friends were beautiful and interesting. You personally aren’t much to look at, and you whine about everything. I know you can’t find a job right now, and that’s a reason to be upset, but you made me put effort into listening to you complain, so I figured you could do me the respect of putting effort into being nice to me- maybe even acknowledging how great I was for
a.) being totally open to you fucking whatever you wanted to fuck while you figured out what you wanted.
b.) Not fucking other men while we were dating so I could give you a chance to figure out what you wanted without the influence of jealousy.
Now that you have figured it out, and have told me that you’re just not ready to be in a relationship, you need to spend time figuring out who you are, you have to learn to be comfortable alone, you’re not at a stable enough spot, or whatever the fucking excuse was you used (I don’t even remember, maybe it’s that you turn into a werewolf whenever there’s a full commitment), which really just meant that you didn’t think I was good enough for you. I was, though. Better than good enough.
I need to stop dating men because I think they’re safe bets. They get the wrong idea about their value and it makes them insufferable for the next girl.