Note to self: Just because the last three guys were dirty cake fuckers, doesn’t mean this one is. This guy could just like cake, and not actually have to fuck it.
Your words, your touch, your smile
They lure me in
Much like a siren’s song
Unleashing a deep-seated need, which can’t be explained
Drawing me close to you
Wanting to fall into you
To give myself over to you completely
Allow you to touch my very core
Even as the jagged boulders of your coast threaten to destroy my vessel and leave me shattered upon your beach
Sing to me. . . .
You’re grown. . .you can do this. . .he is going to show up. . .why do you think he’s going to show up?. . . some of the other guys didn’t show up. . .always let you down. . .you can’t count on a man to do what he says can you?. . .but he’s not those guys. . . you have to give him a fair chance. . .what’s fair? nothing in life is fair is it?. . .fair, as in, he said he is coming, so believe that he’s coming. . . do I have to believe in him?. . .isn’t that like having an expectation. . .shouldn’t have expectations. . .no expectations. . .really? I need to be able to expect him to show up, shouldn’t I?. . .I think that would be the bare minimum for expectations. . .yes, just have a little drink, just to calm your anxiety. . .if I still smoked I would be chain smoking. . .I need to change my perspective on this. . . how to do that. . .he would be foolish if he doesn’t show up because I am awesome. . .so I’m not the most beautiful woman, or the smartest, and I don’t have the perfect body. . .but fuck you, I look good for 44, and I am attractive, and guys check me out. . .and I am smart, I am well-read, and I know lots of shit. . .and I’m talented, and I’m interested in a lot of different things, and I have a karaoke machine and I can cook, so really what more would you want??. . . and thank the hell, the boy has some manners and just texted to say he is on his way so I can relax a little. . .
*This is the kind of tornado that runs through my head because of the experiences I have been through with men. My self-esteem is shit. I can act like I am all that and a bag of chips, I can pretend I fucking rock and that I’m great, and make everyone, even some of my best friends believe it, but I’m not. I have absolutely no idea why a guy would want to take the time to come see me, or date me. I truly believe I am the “fuckable, but not dateable girl”. God, I have to stop that fucked up thinking!!
Still histrionic, still a bookwhore; just faking competence because of my kid.
May the novel bring you inspiration in your daily ruminations.
i've choked on my words for far too long
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