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Posts Tagged ‘cheating’

We were roommates. You are my favorite person to snuggle with in the entire world. I loved coming home from work at 2am and you’d be on the couch watching infomercials or PBS and I’d just curl up next to you on the couch for a good snuggle. Perfection.

There has never been anything between us.

You came to town and needed a place to stay. Naturally you could just sleep in my bed. I had work in the morning, you went out. I gave you the keys. You came home at 4am.

You took off all your clothes, wet with rain from the bike ride home, and left them outside my door. You got in my bed saying you were fucked up on coke & super drunk. You half slept and half chatted with me until you sleepily started making out with me.

I know you didn’t want to cheat, so I wanted to protect you from yourself. I know we would never date.

But the thing is, I would totally make out with you. Why not? It wouldn’t ruin anything and we wouldn’t fall for each other.

I couldn’t let you decide that drunk, so I told you I had to go to work and you fell asleep.

I really wonder if you remember. We will never discuss it. I hope you don’t feel rejected, because in that sense, I would never reject you. I would do you dead sober.

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You were in front of me, we were back in school. You had that look in your eyes that used to be reserved only for me when you wanted to kiss me. And you did.
I felt all the pain I went through again. The knowing but not knowing… Walking from you that afternoon…
You hurting me…
Leaving me in darkness…
Sleeping with her arm around you…
My angel in blue…
Then we were back.
I asked why…
And you said because I remembered why I loved you….please be my girlfriend?
And I whispered, I remembered you hurt me and left me scarred… And walked away once more with tears in my eyes…..

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Finding out you slept with men while I was pregnant was the start of my rolling downward life. And the snowball grew–how did I not see you for what you were so long ago? You are such a liar. And you want me to apologize for saying you were a lying? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? That’s the funniest thing I have ever heard. EVERY person I have told that to laughs and laughs. YOU want me to apologize for thinking you are a liar? You lied last week. . .last month about our daughter’s whereabouts–in front of her. And futhermore every thing that went wrong in my life the past three years was based around your lies. You are gay. You have sex with strangers off craigslist. You are immoral. You cheat and steal from others. You disappoint me. I wish I could be done with you. I find you to be disgusting. I hate you for all you have done and I hope you one day learn to be a good person. I am not counting on it.

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You are the only considerably older man who is legitimately attracted to me. In a pretty sure you’d take me in the back and fuck me kind of way.
At first I thought you had taken a sort of fatherly interest in me and my life and my potential future accomplishments.
Then I got a little older and you took a maybe exaggerated interest.
I have the feeling you were always the sort of man who got what you wanted.
Don’t get me wrong, flirting with you is fine, if you think that the friendly chatting and laughing we occasionally do is flirting.
And if I was a different person I just might take you in the back and fuck you.
But here is the thing. Even though he’s married, I would still much rather fuck your son. Even though he’s married, I’m pretty sure he would be absolutely heartbroken, disgusted, horrified, devastated if I did fuck you.
I don’t actually want to fuck you, so it’s not a problem. I don’t get off on the idea of doing an older man. I’m not particularly attracted to you. I’m not particularly unattracted to you either. Someone might argue this is one of those life experiences you are supposed to go for.
You did call me a vixen that one time.
Is that supposed to make me feel good? Or feel guilty that I somehow made you think I was being flirtatious with a man who is old enough to be my father. Who’s son I have a thing for.
Shudder.

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Dear P,

Your taste…remains in my mouth.
Your face…embossed in my eyelids.
Your scent…lingers through my brain.

My wicked sensations from yesterday still throbs between my loins….

Our stolen moments come in between seconds…

And this guilt irks my every breath.

Let me have peace
let me breathe guilt-lessly again.

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When I was tiny I watched movies that were somehow deemed “appropriate” but still often confused me with their adult subtexts.

One of my favorites was Footloose, of course. And when Sarah Jessica Parker tells Ariel “He’s from out of town and don’t tell me that doesn’t curl your toes because I know it does,” I really actually had no idea.

Maybe smarter kids knew what “curl your toes” meant – but I didn’t until I was old enough to engage in toe curling activities.

But even knowing, I feel like you redefine it. You actually literally make my toes curl. I can’t quite handle all of the things you make me feel.

I know the circumstances heighten the feelings, but my whole body goes to another place when you touch me.

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I’m not sure what you mean by wishing you had treated me better.
I have only fond thoughts of you. If it means I wasn’t the only
person in your life at the time – fair enough. It meant more to
me than it did to you. You were the first person that I was excited
about after this awful thing happened to me. You were also the first
person that I felt instant lust and physical attraction toward and
wanted to get away from you because I wasn’t prepared for it. In
spite of my reluctance, the next day I found that we knew mutual people
that were a couple and dating…what were the odds of that?

Maybe you’re referring to that $hitty thing that you said to me…
or the risks we took shortly afterward. You believed I was teasing
you but the truth was I was not ready. I was wanting, but confused
and distraught about something else. I thought you better off not
knowing me or knowing the baggage that I came with – the regret
and the sadness that I still felt and the anger that goes with that.
Not your burden to carry. Had you known what happened, I’m
confident that you would not have said that and maybe it would have
slowed things down. Or maybe not, I was attracted to you and wanted
those things with you…coaxing me in to it was inevitable. Apparently
I left a mark on you for our exploits. I don’t remember doing that
but it appears to have put you off and not clear why. I can try to
fill in the blanks that you wished you had treated me better, been
more of a gentleman that I definitely deserved that. *Sigh*
We were kids.

I was damaged and gravitating to anything that I thought would
protect me and you did that when I met you – but it also fucked
with my head. How could I tell you, how inadequate I felt that
I wasn’t smart enough to see the big picture of a huge betrayal
that just happened to me months ago. I thought you deserved better,
someone that wasn’t naive that could foresee someone manipulating
my good intentions in to something sinister. If I wasn’t smart
enough to see that for what it was, maybe I didn’t belong there.
It’s always there and I project it everywhere – is someone running
good cop/ bad cop on me? Why am I so anxious? Can I trust this
person?

Anxiety. It’s a landing zone, until I could dig down deep and
talk about the shame I felt. Why didn’t I see that? How did
I miss that? Someone violated my boundaries and I felt as
though I should have seen that coming. In part because of a
support system that believed in a bullshit psychological
construct, a false comfort…a “duck and cover” coping mechanism
that believes had I done a,b,c it would not have happened. It deludes
us in to thinking that had a,b,c happened that will keep us safe
from harm. Life doesn’t work that way. As long as
betrayal exists in this world – a,b,c as a process, won’t work.
At the time, you met me resentful that duck and cover didn’t work.
I just thought you better off and yet it felt so unfair.

You look happy and settled now. Part of me is jealous and
perhaps knowing you were preoccupied with your life direction,
something else, someone else at the time…should be enough
that I don’t what-if this any more. That you weren’t that
interested in me at all and none of the regret that I harbor
is warranted.

Still..what-if…

What-if we met 10 months earlier?

What-if I ignored the phone when I was running late and just
headed over to see you?

What-if I just headed over anyway after I said the exact
opposite of how I felt?

What if I just took the chance to talk to you afterward
whenever I ran in to you?

what if I just told you how I felt, that I always felt
intimidated, flattered, proud and happy with you?

what if I never experience that instant lust at first
sight attraction again? Seems unfair that I experience that
when I’m not ready for it and want it so much at the same
time?

What if we could have loved one another?

Maybe I only have experience that instant lust attraction
once in life…it was instant for me. Hence the reason that
I reflect back on this with a very different perspective
than you, a one-sided one. I have had other relationships,
flings, but nothing that pulled me in the way that
you did. You were sooo Alpha. Better left interrupted and
unfinished because it can only be sustained by
masturbating in the past.

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