The night I lost and gained my self-respect

First off; this shit’s embarrassing and I’ll be judged by a couple hundred strangers on the internet I don’t know. But, since my anonymity is still intact, off we go.

There’s an ex I have been in touch with sporadically ever since we broke things off. (You go figure it out). It turned out we happened to be partying in the same city last Friday. By the time we found out, he was already on his way home, and I was pretty much done. We however kept in touch since, and conversations got hotter and heavier. By Monday, things reached a climax.

We were gonna live out this fantasy we (mostly he) had been discussing. I was persuaded to go see him, a good hour and a half away from where I live. What he wanted was this; a whore. He wanted me on my knees, fuck my mouth until I choked, gag me and fuck me in the ass and spank me until I would be begging for mercy. He sent me pictures of what he’d do to me. They were explicit. He wanted me to bring toys. There is a lot in there I can go along with, if not everything. But I was missing two things, respect and empathy.

Sounds contradictory? Maybe. In the final hours leading up to this, he made a few things very clear. If I wanted this, I would come to him. He did not want to leave his house. I told him he would have to come pick me up from the train station, and also that I would need a ride in the morning. Initially, he did not want me to stay. He said there would be enough time to catch my last train home at eleven thirty at night. I refused. It was not until I told him I did not want to be thrown out on the street like a hooker and have to sit on a train for two hours in the middle of the night. Mind you, it was a Monday and I had work the next day. It was not until I pointed out any man with a shred of decency would not let a woman travel on a night train by herself for two hours that he succumbed. The other major roadblock was his unwillingness for cunnilingus. Literally. ‘I am not going to put my mouth on you’. I had actually heard this from him before, so was not majorly surprised. He made it clear I was there for his satisfaction and not mine. I had agreed to this, so I could not blame him. After all he said he was being honest about it. ‘I don’t care if you get off’.

In the heat of it, I accepted all of it. I knew he was a jerk, so I wasn’t very surprised. But as I had taken my shower and was on my bicycle to the train station, my heart started to sink a little. Did I really want this? Yes, I was horny for it, very much so, but he had demonstrated very little understanding for what I was about to do. While I waited for the first train, I contemplated turning around and going home. I could just not make up my mind. I wanted it. But did I want it for the right reasons? I was making a huge trip, really put myself out there, and for what? The train came, and I got on. I was torn and told myself there was still time to go back.

During that twenty minute ride, I waited for a sign. I was going to be fucked in every way imaginable, and would not be able to walk the next day. I would have a sleepless night, and would have to get up very early at that to make it to work in time. I was going to cancel on my yoga buddy. For a fuck. I got to the station, and needed to wait for another fifteen minutes for my connection. I texted him. ‘I am halfway and breaking out in cold sweats. Say something please.’ I needed him to say something nice, to reassure me it would be alright.

He did neither. He wanted to know what was wrong. I told him I couldn’t decide if I was doing the right thing. He sent me another explicit photo and proceeded to tell me I’d come halfway, what was the problem? Didn’t I want this? Hadn’t we talked about this? I told him the train had arrived and I had two minutes to get on. He said he wasn’t going to talk me into anything. If I wanted to come, I should, but he was cooking now.

The train left. I texted him. ‘I can’t do it.’ We went back and forth a bit. He wanted to know what the real issue was. I sent him a long text. I was afraid I would not be able to look at myself in the mirror the next morning. I was going to be a slut, and I didn’t know if I’d be okay with thattomorrow. That because I was making so much effort to get to him it was too easy for him and too cheap for me. He was putting in zero. I couldn’t justify it in my head. I was doing everything and he was doing nothing. That made a full whore circle in my head. I would have done it to myself.

He said he understood, yes he knew he sounded rude and selfish, but that it was part of the fantasy, he had thought we were on the same page.  I had thought so too, but all these second thoughts made me realize I was better than that. He would use me and spit me out like he had done a year ago. It didn’t matter to him who fulfilled his fantasies, as long as he had a warm, hot body. It didn’t matter to him how I felt about it, as long as he could do whatever he wanted. There was zero empathy and respect for me.

Another train passed by. I turned around and went home.

*tbc

 

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I’m so fucking pissed

I’m angry. Bear with me.

Since the Stud’s holiday has started, I texted him to set up a date. The one where we’re supposed to have ‘the talk’. It turns out, he will be with the other chick on the other side of the country until Monday or Tuesday, has sports commitments on Thursday, and will then go see his family on Friday through the weekend. And me? I am so lucky. He can squeeze me in on Wednesday night after eight. I’m so fucking pissed.

I told him that if he needed to squeeze me in, I would prefer to postpone. No, it wasn’t squeezing. I have him a curt ‘fine. We’ll meet Wednesday. Hope you have fun.’ He said he would and gave me a bird emoticon. What the hell. I said I didn’t doubt that, and left it at that. He knows I know what he’s gonna do. I guess this chick doesn’t feel like a number anymore all of a sudden. (Her reason for denying him previously). Yet he spends a good three of four days with her, and I get a whole fucking three hours on a Wednesday night. Do not dare throwing me a fucking bone. I’m so fucking pissed.

I will be sitting on my hands for the next few days, and will save it up for Wednesday. He’s getting the full load. Do not give me the ‘people change’ crap and then bang another chick that has only just told you she doesn’t like your moral. Don’t do me any fucking favors by squeezing me in on a fucking Wednesday night. He better have a real good story on Wednesday, but right now I feel like just texting him that I’m done.

I AM PISSED THE FUCK OFF

He wore flared curduroys

This post took a bit longer than planned as my hard drive crashed last week. Thank God some Geniuses were able to fix it and restore all my data at that! I wonder if they saw my bookmarked dating accounts…

Anyway, I went on an OKC date last Sunday. I think my statistics were up again and I was due for boredom. When he walked up I thought he was alright, but he was a case of ‘buthisface’. While I could get over flared corduroys (though, seriously?) I cannot get over jacked up hands. Yuck. He was nice to talk to, but not interesting. Add the previous, and it was an unsuccessful date. I have not heard back from him either, which probably means he’s thinking something along the same lines.

Then I am in touch with a Tinder guy that texts at nine thirty PM that he’s free tonight. Dude. I am easy sometimes but not when I don’t know who the fuck you are. When I told him I wasn’t that easy he told me he was joking and subsequently blocked me. How funny.

Also last week, I landed in a heated argument with the Musician. As I mentioned, we’d been texting and he’d been playing his usual ‘I might come over’ game. This time he took it as far as am I on the pill? So when I took him up on it a few days ago, I heard the expected excuses, but did not let him get away with it. I phoned him up and straight up told him that he’s an asshole, he has issues, doesn’t know what the hell he wants and is taking advantage of the situation. He was upset. In fact he doesn’t know what he wants, he is always on the lookout for something better to come along. I told him he doesn’t give a shit who he texts, he just texts me because I reply. He hasn’t got the slightest clue or interest in how I am. He denied, but apologized for a bunch of stuff in the end. He very kindly texted me for my birthday the next day, so I guess he isn’t the sort to hold grudges.

Pfew, anyway, I am seeing the Stud tomorrow. I managed to get him a sample of something he wanted  and need to drop it off. I am being way too nice by not only giving it to him, but also dropping it at his house while he is too busy to go for drinks. I know that he genuinely is, so don’t hold it against him. It kind of leaves him in debt I suppose, but I just want to do something nice for him, hopefully it’ll be good karma, because I want to get laid. I am seeing him at nine thirty, which is way late. I am not expecting to be out the door within fifteen minutes  with a ‘yo, thanks!’, but since we’ve established he’s allergic to commitment at the moment, I doubt he’ll be in for sex. Ugh. Why am I doing it? Nice, be nice…

He’s back.

The asshole Musician. I received a message from him a few days ago asking if he fucked up asking me for work stuff. Yes, he had. He apologized, we messaged back and forth for a bit while I wondered what he wanted. It did not take long. Things were not going well with his new chick. They had met up in London while he was on tour, and things had been awkward between them. They’ve been having a long distance relationship until now, meeting occasionally, but mostly relying on FaceTime and messaging. And then when they had actual time to spend, things went downhill. I can’t help feeling a little pleased. In your face. It wasn’t me.

Anyway, now that that’s going down, he apparently needs a back up. Enter Ella. Before I knew it I was sucked into a long thread that went further and further, eventually leading to him saying he’d be back in the country today and maybe we should finally turn mutual fantasies into reality. All of me is screaming YES, YES fuck me senseless! I am having so much trouble keeping a clear mind, while I know that it won’t ever happen because if we were to agree on meeting, he would cancel last minute. I would love him to be my birthday gift and think I could handle it too, but it’s all just such a bad idea. Though, I’m getting ahead of myself as usual.

I have been in touch with the Stud occasionally as well. I have not seen him after our last date, but he texted me last week to say I was not supposed to look better than the bride after he saw photo’s of my brothers wedding. Way to go on the sweet talking. I have decided to go easy with him. If he wants to see me, he’ll have to put in some effort.

Ending rant.

Another Asshole

I’m so fucking angry with myself right now. Because I fell for it again.

Mr. Fiji said he’d like to make up for his cancellation and take me for drinks tonight. I gave it some thought, discussed it with my friend Selma who said screw him, and decided to meet him. He’d come to my city at 9, and I told him to let me know when he arrived so I could pick him up at the station. All good.

And as I am writing this, I am obviously not on a hot date. I had showered, dressed, put make up on and the whole she-bang, and waited. At 9:30, I sent him a message. He saw it. And to this point, he’s not replied. So it’s 2 hours later, and I’ve changed into my PJ’s. I am so fucking upset that he’s another one of those assholes that goes no-show and I’m left feeling like an idiot.

I can’t wait to hear what the lame excuse is and to give him a piece of my mind tomorrow. In the meantime I need to calm myself down because I won’t be able to sleep like this.

When will I stop doing this to myself?