I’m pretty sure he slept with a friend of mine, although he only admitted to certain lesser offenses. But he initially lied about even those. And then he had the nerve to want me back.
I’m secretly an optimist. I like to think that people are good. And deserve second chances, so I gave him one. But we’re taking things extremely slowly. And in this very slow run of things, I’ve paid a lot more attention to his charater. And am wondering why the hell I’m still with him even more.
The Incident:
Well he has always worried about where I’ll be and with whom I’ll be with. And I make sure to let him know. On the few occaisions where I’m unsure of my whereabouts, he has gotten into the habit of texting and calling my friends (creepily enough, yet I don’t have the numbers of any of his friends). But I’ve never had a reason to ask him where he’s going…that is until the friend thing.
So one random day, I let him know that I’m going to be hanging out with some new friends of mine, and he walks away, and I ask him where he’s going. And he doesnt answer…just walks away. So I text him, and this tool has the nerve to text me back “Do I ever ask you where you are going?” and “You just text me to argue”, and I say, Hell yeah you do if I don’t tell you ahead of time. Or you’ll in a round a bout way text, and call my friends, and if that doesn’t work, you’ll literally hunt me down on campus, and I can list the fucking occasions, and I’ve never even given you a reason to worry! And I asked you a simple fucking question.
He still didn’t really answer. He just said, I am going to drink and wander around. And I was with friends and determined to have a good time so I left it at that. But the issue came up again last night.
LAST NITE:
I ended up hanging out with this incredibly charming and attractive jerk, who maybe has a bit of a crush on me. I haven’t led him on or given him any signals or anything. But he lives next door to the Jew. So when I was going to the Jew’s room at night, I knock, and Prince Charming (PC) is waiting at the door with me to be polite. The Jew lets me in and asks me what I was up to (as usual although he doesnt realize how fucking often he has me tell him that type of shit). When I mention PC he angrily says he’s confused. I let him know that we ended up hanging out in a mutual group of friends, and I even explain the context to him to assuage him. He relaxes and I get pissed. BECAUSE HE WOULD NEVER or rather HAS NEVER DONE ME THE SAME COURTESY. Throughout our argument/discussion he revealed that he doesn’t want to feel like I’m trying to control him when I ask him where he’s going. And I’ve never even asked him that question a)before I had reason to worry about his whereabouts, and b)more than twice in the months we’ve dated. SO WTF!?
He also mentions that he didn’t trust me. Not in a physical way, but emotional. I’m pissed and I may regret telling you ppl on the interwebs but you all are anonymous enough that I’ll get over it.
That Jew lost his virginity to me at the ripe old age of 25.
Really.
And when he told me, I responded by saying that I wouldnt say anything to anyone…as long as he didn’t repeat the Friend Thing. But despite never having broken my word to him thus far, or betraying him, he still doesn’t fucking trust me.
Not only that, but he wants me to be able to trust him. Despite all the shit he’s done. PRETTY FUCKING SELFISH if you ask me. To expect shit of someone that you aren’t willing to give up in return.
After all of this talk, he gets angry and deflects by saying that I was just trying to start an argument so that he would be tired. He has a sleep disorder, and had to go to dinner with his family the next day. SO, I got even more angry. There are times when I’m obviously there just to bother him. In fact I preface those visits in just that way when he opens the door, so that he has the option of turning me away. And with this particular visit, he ASKED me to spend the night. So I say, “well if thats what you think, then fuck it, I’ll go, you want to sleep, and avoid talking about something thats pretty fucking important. And if thats what you think, then the only way for me to prove you wrong is to just fucking leave. So goodnight.” I tried to kiss him goodnight, and he turned his head, and tried to get me to stay saying “I want to go to sleep, but I want you to be sleeping here too”, but by then it was too fucking late. I WAS RED HOT.
He asked me where I was going (once again making me account for my person—-as if by this point its any of his fucking business). I tell him, I’m going for a walk around campus and outline the path I intend on taking in great detail just to pt this out to him, and he grimaced. I may do it more often, just to point out how often he asks me this shit, and how little I do. Because he is not at all aware of the way he acts sometimes.
So I went for a walk (while he sent several texts asking to come back to my room, or for me to go back to his) and woke up the next day to a knock from him.
He wanted to come “Bother me.” So i let him b/c he was actually feeling a little sick. I got him medicine, and got on my computer on the bed next to him. He asks me if I remember last night (bc I was a little inebriated) and I tell him of course. But b/c he was sick I didnt want to pursue the issue—-even though I was already pursuing it in my head. Just running through all the details, and getting even more angry. Eventually his very presence was enough to piss me off, and I didn’t wanna punch him in the face so I kicked his ass out. And told him just to leave me alone for the rest of the day. He knocked on my door and left me a coke, and some chocolate that night. And texted me that he missed me.
Now I’ve spent the day alone. Just wondering what the hell I’m doing with this person. He’s given me all the reasons why we shouldnt be together. He did what he did with my friend. He doesnt trust me. I don’t trust him (but for good fucking reason). And when I try to talk about these issues to work them out, he gets defensive, deflects, and never really confronts them.
And I figured some therapeutic writing was exactly what I needed to clear my head in a way that a walk at 5 am couldnt. So if you read this, share your thoughts, experiences, or whatever else. I just don’t want to think that I’m all alone here. Its ok if I am in the sense of the blog, but in the case of the universe. I cant be the only person feeling like this…Hello out there? CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME!!!???
I wish I could tell you how awesome everything back at home is, but to be honest it just doesn’t feel like home to me anymore. I’m not gonna lie, it barely did before I left. But now that I’ve come back, my room is gone, and I’ve been sleeping on the couch, and I’ve been living outta my suitcase. Even worse, I can’t seem to stop arguing with my mom. Its like we get along better when we’re not together. I don’t understand it. Everything she says to me is her trying to impart some universal “truths” to live by [universal as in common fucking sense], or assuming that I’m an irresponsible little fuck. I haven’t gotten in trouble for anything like that in the last 3 months of school so you’d think I’d earned some trust in that department….but alas. It isn’t so.
And I know this isn’t the case in most states, but in Texas if you want a social life you must have a car. I don’t so all of my meetings have been the impromptued calls of “Hey CC are you busy? NO! Wanna Hang Out? We’ll be right by to get you.” I’ve pretty much gotten to hang out with the key people I miss, but at the same time, its only one day. So thats that. Also in Texas, I never realized but goddamit people are so judgemental and closed off to a lot of experiences. Another reason why coming back sucks. I talk to some friends and they here some of these stories and get that judging look on their face, and I want to shake them and tell them that there’s more to life than the conservative rightist Texan view!!!
I also went back to visit my old 4th grade student teacher. I was one of those creepy teachers pets, and we kept in touch in all that time. She gave me an awesome gift. At her school the teachers do secret santa, and she was able to get some of the other teachers to give money to me instead of the Secret Santa thing, and my 3rd grade teacher who hadn’t heard about it and didn’t know I was coming wrote me a check on the spot for $50. That was by far my favorite meeting. Everyone was so welcoming and warm and nice. No expectations of a wild and crazy adventure, and most of them didn’t actually know me, so as far as first meetings go it was pretty laid back. It was fascinating to see the little 4th graders running around, and know that at point that was me…
I went back to high school today. The highlight of that visit was talking to my old debate team, and my badass art teacher, and my favorite person was my old librarian I’d worked with. She was the same as I remember, and she was just completely non-judgementally interested in my college stories. I’ll probably find a way to go see her tomorrow even if I’ve got to take a bus. But I’ve got a huge to do list of people to see and things tomorrow. So we’ll see.
But thats only the good stuff. There were 3 times as many boring days were all I did was shower to change into a different set of pajamas. Thats how I spent most of my days.
I’m trying to breathe some more life into this blog. The only issue is that I’m not actually sure what you guys want from me. If you want me to be more active here, I’m gonna request that you lovely people reciprocate.
After that first lackluster experience I wasn’t particularly into the idea of having sex again. But I met a guy (The Jew) in my core classes, who made the jump from fun foreplay to fun fucking.
I’m not at all puritanical about sex. I’m just more interested in things that feel good, and are worth the time—-what I like to call cost benefit analysis. And sex was from my limited experience not worth it, but I gave in bc he really wanted to and I was worked up enough to want it too. So we had sex, and it was so so…almost like a hobby that is fun enough to try again, but not mind blowingly orgasmically good. The second time was pretty much the same way. At which pt I was slowly becoming disillusioned with sex. And I off handedly mentioned to the Jew how if sex was as good for me as it was for him I might be more inclined to have it. IE next time I orgasm or we wont have sex again (since I’m not reaping any of the benefits of myhours of labor)- cost benefit analysis at work. To which he responded “ouch”. I left just the tiniest bit miffed, and the next week or so when we were “hanging out” in his room he managed to get a third shot. And like they say the third times the charm. We had sex from 1 in the morning until 10am, with intermediate naps in between. And I stopped counting orgasms I’d had at 6. It was an awesome night.
We were all over the dorm. Middle of the bed, desk, wall, door, side of the bed etc. And things got a little kinky. I’m talking duct tape, blindfold, and whipped cream kinky. Also I’ve discovered that while I’m in that special moment I like to bite. So he was covered in bite marks, and i drew blood from being a little to rough with is earlobes. Not that he minded at the time—-but those bites are hard to hide later. This was the first time that sex was actually good for me. To the point where I didnt want to stop. But he needed a break—-whats a girl to do.
As far as sex and partners go, it seems like there is an akward period in which you are each working out the kinks and trying to figure out how to get the other person off. I’m the tiniest bit sadistic, but I also like being dominated even more. Throw me up against the wall, and dont worry about leaving marks or bruises. Pain heightens every single sensation to me. I guess the lack luster also had to do with my head not being in the same state as my body. It takes a complete unification of mind and body and spirit for me to orgasm, which is rare, but it makes each one better than the last.
So this is a time unlike the first. Much more exciting, kinky, and orgasmic. Hope you enjoyed. Oh, and I’d really appreciate any comments or questions you guys could offer.
~CC~
PS In case your wonderiing why I’m posting all of a sudden, its because christmas break allots me the freedom to finally chronicle all of these random wild crazy experiences.
The gardens are a lovely place. I’ve never seen them sober or in the daylight, but through a drunken haze they are magnificent. This story has a bit to deal with a tiny bit of trespassing. While tipsy one night, I got invited to go pay a game of hide n seek at “the gardens”. I had no clue where the gardens were, but one short field trip, and a brick wall later we were in the back of this historical museum playin hide nseek in this maze like garden. I was caught early, but my jew was left for last.
The game was fun while it lasted. But we inadvertantly invited a loud irate drunk girl. In a bid at self preservation, I left early. She is the type to get everyone caught.
Its not that I mind lightly breaking the law, but I do mind getting caught.
So, while I was a little under the influence one night…
I made the drunken descion to go on a road trip in below freezing weather, and climb up a mountain ridge in nothing but a sweatshirt, jeans, and denim chucks. In retrospect I probably should’ve prepped for the cold, but with all the alcohol in my system I already felt pretty warm and fuzzy and invincible inside.
So me and my friends, all managed to not get frostbite climbing to the top of the ridge. Collected some firewood for a bon/forest fire and roast some sausages while looking out over the most amazing cliffs as the sun rose. It was absolutely amazing…despite the cold and wetness. There are worse ways to spend a night-morning.
My mother has always called me impulsive. But in my head, its more like I’m afraid of missing the golden nuggets of life that we remember most. Think back to your childhood. YOU CAN NOT remember every mundane day, but the big unexpected ones stand out clear as a sunrise over a cliff. Is it wrong for me to try to make everyday as unique as possible?!
Was fantastic. The day after school began, we had our first “seminar” where you and 15 or so other people, get together and discuss some work of classical literature. In every group you need a couple people who are off for no other reason than comical relief.
I came to college with absolutely no idea of what to do, or expect from people, or even the college in general. Which is pretty unusual as most students at my school visit more than once before coming here. Now I’d done the facebook stalking enough to recognize a few ppl, but I was pretty lost—-come to find out that most of the ppl who did come to visit shared my reservations despite being familiar with the college.
I was lucky enough to be able to travel to the school with my mother, but where I’m from parallel parking is pretty much a myth so as my mother swooped in to park like Wonder Woman the tire blew…two blocks from school. In the time that it took to arrange a triple A rescue, and reimbursement from the car rental place, I waltzed down to campus and took a look around. Things were pretty damn intimidating, not at all helped by the car crisis. I veiwed the view and saw the sights. Kids scrambling with boxes and suitcases. The lost looking freshman. The ever so helpful uppeclassmen wear neon colored shirts like lighthouses at the end of a very dark collegiate road. I began to have a crisis of faith. Would I be able to make it here? OR would I take the first flight home once my professors realized that I was not at all college material.
Well when my mom eventually made her way back to campus, we managed to hop in the registration line. A sort of station set up, where you get a folder at one place, your dorm building and room, pay whatever fees you have left, get your mailbox, and all of the other trivial things that you’ll do every year afterwards. Well one interesting event happened there. So as I’m waiting in the ID line all by myself so my mother could call her bf back home, I met a girl. Let call her Legs (she’ll be back for a few stories), bc she loves to display them and they go up to her neck. Legs was literally making her way from the front of the line, meeting every student that she could, and stoping to talk So we were set, to start unpacking.
Meeting my roommate from here on out known as Gills bc she’s a swimmer was a lot less nerve wracking than I thought it would be. She was very cordial, and her dad even helped my mother and I with all of my bags. After that encounter I was a bit more reassured. My roommate and I got dressed for the school’s formalized intro into the college, as our parents went to a parent orientation. The reverse graduation was fantastic. We qued up in one building and as the church bells rang (yeah its that kinda old town) the doors opened and we walked out, and much to our surprise, all of the upperclassmen were there. Cheering us on. It felt fantastic (at the time, later come to find out that it was more of a meatmarket), but it was the thought that counted right?
convocation my mother had to leave, so I was officially on my own. Left to try not to screw up. That, ladies and gentle was my introduction to the four yr documentation of the College Chronicles. :-)
A lot has happened in three weeks so I’ll do my best to catch up, so I can give you the stories as they come.
First broken bone is going on here too. Its pretty damn hard to type. I wanted to get these out sooner, but we shall just have to wait and see what happens.
