Ok Diary, Here’s the Scoop…
I don’t see me and my Girl lasting much longer together. I think the relationship has entered it’s final turn in the race, the finishline in sight. Examine if you will, last night’s events.
This may be more than you want to know about uncle Rizzn over here, but while me and my Girl have fooled around together, gotten naked together, and slept in the same bed together for countless countless nights, she and I have never, er, ahem, slept together.
The reasons for this are many and far reaching. Mostly because I wanted to wait a while, I don’t want sex to become meaningless, or be meaningless. As you who read me on a regular basis know, I take love very very seriously. It’s not an emotion as much as a committment. I waited so long for my Girl and I to have sex because I wanted to make sure that I could really love her. I mean I knew from the moment I met her that I loved her in that warm and fuzzy way you get smitten with whenever you know you meet the one. But it isn’t fair to put someone thru the heartbinding actions of sex if you aren’t going to stick around. Not fair to me, not fair to you. I made that mistake once, and I’m never going to do it again.
Another reason I hestitated on committing the act was my personal beliefs. I’m in a kinda spiritual crisis lately trying to find out exactly what is right and wrong.
I know for a fact that there is right and wrong. To not believe in absolute truth is folly. I’m trying, however, to figure out which side of right and wrong I sit on.
And the final and most deciding reason why I hestitated is that I’m frankly a pussy.
Back at my last love travesty which I wrote about, long-time readers will remember, it’s when she disappeared on me or a weekend, she mentioned one of the reasons that she wanted to see other people, among a host of reasons, was that I never paid attention to her sexual needs. Or hadn’t lately.
Sorry guys, but this is a tough subject to talk about. I’ve never had a normal boyfriend girlfriend relationship where sex was involved. I’m an innocent little boy that way I guess. I’m not a virgin, sadly, I gave it up at the wrong moment, but that’s neither here nor there.
My point is, I think, if I can remember it, is that I just don’t know how to handle those situations. Sex was never a pursuit of mine. Not that I didn’t desire it, I just never acquired the highschool skills of seducing a woman. Sorry to spoil the images you have of me as a Playa, but I’m just not that.
So at that point, I began the ponderous contemplation on what and how I should broach the subject with her. I thought, on a couple occasions that I made it clear that sex was now ‘a-ok’ in my book, if things ever developed that direcection. But they never did. And you want to know why? After last night, I found out.
Finally finding what I thought was the appropriate approach to the subject, I brought up after a long night of sitting there watching her fscking type on her computer to her internet buddies while I watched, after taking her out to a nice dinner, and paid for her every expense (and expense it was) at the record shop, I brought up the subject of intimacy, and in the exact words I used, I said that “an increase in our level of intimacy would be satisfactory, if that is what you want.”
The bombshell: “I’m just not attracted to you in that way anymore. I don’t want to be touched, I don’t want to be kissed, and I don’t want to be fucked. This is how I get in long-term relationships. It also has to do with my depression. My friends can testify to that.”
Well FUCK ME! @#$#$@$#
Why didn’t one of the fscking so called friends fscking warn me the fsck ahead of time!!!@!@#$$@$@#$%@$@*(@%&
Why did my Girl not warn me ahead of time.
“Hello, I know we signed up for a longterm relation ship with the way things are going, but in three months to five months, I’m going to flip out on you and not want to have you touch me again.”
Did she think it wasn’t going to happen this time? I mean from the sound of it, it seem s to happen every time, yet she still didn’t warn me, just went along until I was hooked.
Every “I love you” another fish-hook into my heart, every spurned moment, it gets ripped out. I’m a ragga muffin torn up heart.
Well, after I pulled out every sort of reasoning and heartfelt arguement to just let me help her with her depression that I had in my deck, she ended up threatening to kick me out of the house.
I raised my voice, because she kept stepping over what I was saying and not letting me continue, when I was pouring my fscking heart out to her, trying to express how much I cared.
But in her words, “You and I are not alike, you have no idea what its like to be me. Your piddly little depressive episode is nothing what it’s like to live my life. You have no way to relate to me.”
The conversation ended with “Don’t ever talk to me about depression again.”
The night ended with her telling me she was scared of me because I raised my voice when she was freaking out. She slept in a near fetal position on the couch and told me to go to the bedroom.
I’ve probably ruined things forever.
I’ll give you more on this (oh yes, there’s more) after lunch. I need to take my mind off it a while. The problems are just too overwhelming.