He asks me
what do you drive
what do you do
where do you live
when am I going to see you?
I don’t respond
he tells me nothing about him
all I have is images
of fifty shades of gray
in my head
I thought if I wanted that
I would have chose him
but I didn’t
I drove by his house today, in the first time I can’t tell you how long. He had a garbage bin in the middle of the road. I thought about running it over but then if something happened, I would have to talk to him. I haven’t talked, seen, nor heard from him in years; for years. I haven’t fully told anyone what happened between us because that’d make me look like a number of things I wasn’t. I’d rather have them think the relationship ended when I was some drunk airhead in my early twenties. I blabbed about Kesha, turned over to look at him and spilled his beer. He broke up with me the next day because I didn’t clean it up.
I never told anyone about the times we hooked up after. At that point I was living on my own and in college and things went south in my relationship. I met him one day when I was walking to the lake — he was driving in his border patrol car to it because that’s his fucking job. He was surprised and asked to see me later. Of course I did. How could I not? I had a lot of fun with this man before our true colors came out. We went out drinking, bonfires, kayaking, motorcycle rides, shooting guns, etc. And so we hung out in his new hot tub, naked; and went upstairs to have sex. It was passionate but not passionate enough to convince me he was the one. It reminded me of that night in December, I slept with him and told him I loved someone else and felt guilty after. Yet, I still did it a couple more times until he put the idea in my head we were nothing but fuck buddies. That’s not what I wanted nor intended but I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. The last time we spoke was text, he probably said something cocky and I went off on a tangent. We both walked away…
(Yeah, I ran into one too many exs one way or another today.)
I never met someone as big as a douchebag as you. You live in a yellow cardboard box shaped house in the middle of nowhere. You go to the bar alone or with co-workers to join the rest of the townies in your area. When we first met you lied about your age. I thought you were four years older than me but you were actually eight. I figured that out when I saw your drivers license on your dresser. You said you lied your age when you were younger to get land and other benefits. You got older and lied so you can get dates with younger women because you had no intention to settle down. Of course, you lied and say you did. You broke up with me a couple of times because you wanted a ‘housewife’ and it wasn’t me. The entire time you were fucking other people and on other dating websites. You used that as excuse to go about your business. I returned the favor and joined other websites. I downgraded you as a fuck buddy as well. I found someone else and forgot about you. Or so, I thought. I miss the fun we had together, no one else was a big douchebag as you. You broke up with me the last time because I spilled your beer and didn’t clean it up. If you’re in the area and happen to see me walking on the street, don’t pull over and ask me what’s up or if I want to see you later like you have once. I mean, I said I loved someone else. Why would it be any different?
I used to send
nude pictures to a boy
in high school
who lived in another country
he never shared them
because he ‘loved me’ though
we only met once
they said I was beautiful and rejected me
I sent the same ones
to a popular nude model agency
they wanted me to masturbate live
on camera and my nickname was
I did nothing but zoom the camera in my face
I sent nude photos
to a fling or ex that left or cheated on me
one ex saved them all and took photos
and videos of me in bed
without my knowledge or consent
his friends or random people on the internet
could have seen it
but I don’t care
they don’t know if it’s me
they don’t know the story
I sent nude photos
to my boyfriend
he did nothing
but keep it to himself
you’ve a job
I can’t be with you
I’m older and more arrogant
I don’t know how much experience
you have but I think I have more
I have a list of things I’ve done
and know what I’m capable of
I will use you like I’ve used the rest
keep you as an option in case
it doesn’t work with someone else
hook up with you once or a couple of times
kick you to the curb and get back with someone else
Nothing you say or do will
I don’t care about you
I don’t even care about myself
there’s only a few people I care about enough
to make some sort of an effort not to resort back to old self
some old teachers remind me
I’m only human
I love you
I’ve said it many times
I was there when you needed me
though sometimes you pushed me away
I didn’t try to change you
though sometimes I felt you wanted me to change
I haven’t seen this is my life
you in pain and crying in a hospital bed but
I’ve seen and knew worse things in my life
that had nothing to do with you
I won’t talk about these things
and you probably know what I’m talking about anyway
and you’re like, well you’ve said and did worse things
to me too
but none of this is your fault
It isn’t but I’ve seen symbols around me
I knew something was going to happen
but I didn’t know what
for someone that has all the answers and knows my stuff
I know nothing at all
I had flashbacks of some events
and bad days
of the nightmare that moment
and again, I questioned everything
feeling like none of this is enough
or even right for me
I could run or rash out like I normally do
because of these thoughts and feelings
but what good would that do
I know there’s other people out there
and I know there’s a lot of opportunities
I don’t have here
nor change because I stayed here with you
I could change that and I probably should
I can’t see where this is headed
and if anywhere, I don’t know if I want to be
the mother or if I’m even ready for it
all my life I wanted nothing but to be free
from this world
how can I do that if I tie myself to someone?
what would be the point?
so you can leave like my father?
or I get some non-genetic cancer like my mother?
and for what?
to continue this viscous cycle that never ends
It could end
but I prefer not to be blind sided
I don’t know why you contact someone to tell you what you already know… Oh, because you think I’m psychic.
Lady: Does he still think of me?
Me: How long were you together?
Lady: We weren’t together, we only texted.
Me: Yes he still thinks of you.
Lady: How does he think of me, does he miss me?
Me: He thinks of you as an option.
Lady: Like he is using me or sex?
Lady: Do you see him coming back?
Me: Yes but you don’t need that. You need someone that will see you.
Lady: He doesn’t want to see me? Why?
Me: It’s not that he doesn’t, it’s that he hasn’t. He has something going on he’s not telling you about.
Lady: Was I right to leave him?
Is he my soulmate?
No, if he was your soulmate you wouldn’t be asking me this question.
When will I meet the one?
When you stop thinking about it.
When are we getting married?
When he decides to commit, if ever.
What time are we getting married?
Never because you’re concerned with time.
How old will I be when I married?
Does he think of me?
You already know the answer to this question, you’re looking for validation.
Why does he message his ex?
He still has some kind of relationship with her.
Yeah, you should NOT be okay with seeing your father’s penis but I’m not allowed to tell you my honest opinion about this. I’m supposed to act like this doesn’t disturb or annoy me when actually it does. If you’re serious, you should seek professional help. I can’t help you.
Actually there is everything wrong with that but I’m not authorized to tell you that. If you’re seriously a grown man who likes your wife changing your diaper and talking baby talk to you, you have a serious problem. I hope you seek professional help for this issue, and if not; I hope your wife leaves you. No one woman should have to put up with this even though she supposedly likes it.
I will add those next to the pile of garbage I received about a father looking at his daughters boobs and a boy who wishes he could date his hot sister.
The question I have is: How long do you put aside your morals, beliefs, and standards to ‘help’ someone who is either abusing the service or can’t help themselves?