Deja Vu

This night was the same as the other nights. Yet different.

Different because, I remember there was chasing. Chasing down the street. Him, chasing after me. What a difference that was.
If it wasn't so fucking comical, it would have felt empowering. Yet it wasn't. It was sad.

"You're not attracted to me. You don't love me." I had said it all before.
And yet again.

"I do love you. I am attracted to you." He said it. I heard it. I'll never stop hearing it.

"So then what?"

I stared at him. Waiting for more. Wishing there was more.

"I. Don't. Know."

Fuck. You.

I got on the subway without looking back. I was afraid to know what it was that would be looking back at me.

Making Sense of it All

One of the recurring themes in my life, as well as this blog, are my unrequited feelings for you-know-who (if you don't know who, then you haven't been reading long enough, and too bad, cuz I removed almost all the posts about him for safety's sake) (I know, I'm so hospitable. Welcome to my blog). I hear myself talk about it, I read what I write about it, and honestly, I have to say, if I were listening to someone else talk about it, I would probably a) punch them in the face, b) tell them they're retarded, or c) put my hands up to my ears and go "la la la I can't hear you" everytime they brought the subject up. I do read about this subject quite a bit in other peoples' blogs (mostly chicks I hate to say) and the question I ask myself everytime is Why? We are smart women. We would give our friends advice about these men such as "He's just not that into you, let him go" or "Stop wasting your time with this douchebag." but when it comes to our own situations we hold onto every little last piece of hope, every word that could mean something else, every ounce of attention that is showered upon us...perhaps this time will be the time.

A couple weeks ago, you-know-who and I went out drinking til 4am. I was out with Akat and he ended up meeting us out at my local watering hole. Akat stuck around to cockblock me from him, which was probably smart, considering the last time he and I went out drinking we talked about "us" for almost the entire time...which didn't really get me anywhere, it actually made me super fucking sad. Of course. Because that's what these types of relationships do. Which is why they don't make sense to keep around. Anyway, Akat got tired of cock blocking me and left (but not before I went out to bum a cigarette from some dude, who I ended up chatting with for a super long time, and you-know-who came out not once but TWICE to see if I was "ok"...um who's cockblocking who now??) and YKH and I stayed out another hour or so before calling it a night...except that he drove me home, and we sat in his car for yet ANOTHER hour talking. Not about us, this time, thank the lord. But just about life, the universe, whatnot. And as usual, I left his car feeling really confused and upset by our situation. How can he not fucking love me? ME?

Since that night I've tried to curb my communication with him...I let myself be more elusive and not so available...I figure if I just slowly disappear maybe one day I won't give a shit about him anymore and we can *really* be friends...as opposed to this one-sided bullshit. One-sided meaning he thinks we are friends and I will never stop wanting more. But somehow, while out with Akat again last night, he and I ended up texting each other til oh, 2am or so. Who does that? Oh. We do.

I'd forgotten that I'd emailed him earlier that day...I had had a dream about him...he and I were walking on a boardwalk and he bought a dog from someone and when he let me hold the dog for a second I realized it wasn't a dog at all but a rat (I refrained from telling him the part where he and I got it on right there on the dirty old boardwalk with his nasty rat-dog tied to a fence, for obvious reasons). At any rate, at the end of our texting session he tells me that he had read my email about the dream and that it freaked him out...because he had a rat dream also...and right before he saw my email he was thinking about how we're all connected in some way, and then saw that we'd had similar dreams. I was like "crazy coincidence." His reply "no such thing as a coincidence".

Which just reaffirms in my fucked up brain that he and I, as always, are in sync. Fucking ALWAYS.

I know I know...you want to punch me in the face, tell me I'm retarded, or shut your ears and sing "la la la I can't hear you." Go ahead. You won't be the only ones.

No Happy Endings Here

I felt your eyes on me as I walked myself to my front door and let myself in.

I turned to look at you, our eyes met, and you waved, driving away after making sure I was safely inside.

Funny, that one time you drove my friend home, she made a point of letting me know what a jerk you were for NOT waiting til she got inside before driving away.

I thought of this as I started to turn away. It made me smile. And then I cried.

Oops I Did it Again

Well, by now you know me pretty well...and you know that I am incapable of keeping things simple.

Wouldn't you know it, I have ALREADY disassembled the Can't Have Ya Trifecta. I should never be allowed to have nice things! I don't take care of them!!

Remax2 came over for our "photo shoot" on Tuesday night...with a bottle of bourbon in tow. I was nervous as fuck..I wasn't really sure what he had in mind as far as what he wanted me to do. All I knew was that there was going to be nudity involved.
I wasn't so much worried about being nude in front of him..it's more the having to see the end result..I'm not too keen on having my picture taken, much less naked pictures taken, without a lot of good lighting and retouching!!

Turns out he wanted to see me in outfits. Of course, he's a guy. Guys are all about the outfits. So we picked out some stuff...it was kind of hilarious, actually. Being able to get inside the mind of a horny guy. He nicely informed me that the top I was wearing "wasn't doing anything for him." I was aghast and agape...that was my fallback date top! But apparently, nope, not a good look.

So...we changed my top. And we dragged my mattress into the living room and threw a white sheet over it...he wanted some sort of gritty downtown thing going on, with my brick wall in the background. I just went with it. Who am I to argue with the artiste?

We started out very innocent..as he calls them, "family style" shots. If you consider a black tank top, mini skirt hiked up to "here" and thigh high socks "family style". It was easier to pose than I thought, of course, the more bourbon I drank the more flirty and comfortable I became...but he was also really egging me on, telling me how sexy I am, pretty much adoring me with his eyes and his camera. I could sort of get addicted to this! Imagine that on my list of "interests": posing for erotica.

I was trying my hardest to keep things platonic and friendly--I mean, as much as you possibly can while you're all laid out on a mattress with your ass hanging out of a pair of boy shorts and the man you might be in love with is telling you how hot you are--every once in a while he would come over and adjust my hair, my bra strap..the brushing of his hand against my skin felt like I was being set on fire.

But when I needed to change outfits, I would employ a modicum of modesty and retreat to the bedroom to change in private. That shows that I was being respectful of our friendship, right?

The last outfit I was wearing, I seem to recall, was a brown mesh top with no bra underneath and booty shorts. I guess one can't really achieve a modicum of modesty in that outfit, but whatever...I went into the bedroom to find something else, and he followed me, and I don't know who started what, but all of a sudden there was kissing, lots of kissing, in the doorway of my bedroom.

"Are you ok with this?" I stupidly had to ask. I mean duh. Yea, he was ok with it. He was probably planning it since the beginning of time!

He said he was, but asked if I was, and then I sat him down and had "the talk". I figured, now is as good a time as any.

So I told him that I really liked our friendship, and that he was a way better friend than I ever imagined he could be, but I also had feelings for him and if there was any chance we could date, that would be great too.

And then he dropped the axe: "I only feel friendship for you."

Except he then proceeded to suck the lips off of my face. Hard. I mean, I guess I can't blame the guy...I was wearing a see through mesh top and all..and to prove even further that he only feels friendship for me, he proceeded to remove said mesh top and ravage me from top to bottom for several hours, and with a short slumber break, continue on through the morning.

With friends like him, who needs other friends?

So, the Can't Have Ya Trifecta has now been tainted. As for my good reputation, that has also been tainted. As for my friendship with Remax2, only time will tell.

Functional Dysfunction

As much as I have about 8 million topics that I need to discuss with all of you, in light of the fact that I've been gone yet AGAIN for so long...I thought it was time to address my latest man situation, or lack thereof.

I have set up a sweet little deal for myself, that I like to call the "Can't Have Ya Trifecta".

It is made up of two recurring players in my life, Remax2, and Tall Guy (bet you forgot about HIM, eh?) and a new candidate who we will call the Bandaid Crush.

The deal is this...I don't have sex with any of these dudes, but in some form or another I have romantic feelings for them (none of them knows this, I don't think) and I just keep them around as friends. It's a win-win situation. They stick around, I never have to worry about being rejected, and I get to actually spend quality-time with them stress (albeit sex) free.

It's a weird little defense mechanism but it seems to be working. And the best part is, when one or two of 'em stages a disappearing act once in a while (which they always do. boys will be boys!) there's always a third one to keep me company in the meantime! It's a brilliant little plan!

Of course, it's highly dysfunctional on so many levels...for example, these are the kinds of conversations that Tall Guy and I have on a regular basis:

Him: "I've been dreaming about that hot little ass of yours. GOD I want that ass. So did you find a job yet?"
Me: "When am I going to finally get to sit on that giant cock of yours? Eh, still working on my resume."
Him: "Fuck me. Please."

We have been known to have such conversations for several hours, long into the night, when one of us should have just gotten in a cab and been at the other's door, for fuck's sake. But I think the beauty of our little arrangement is that we can keep this going pretty much until one of us gets sick of it...and so far, nobody seems to, so.

Remax2 has been doing a good job of keeping up his end of the friend bargain. I'm pretty impressed with his persistence and consistence. Um..but we're going out and getting drunk tomorrow night, to prepare for a nude photo shoot that we've been planning for months. Cuz I can't just have, like, a NORMAL relationship with the guy, that would just be too weird. Ha.

Bandaid Crush is a recent development, we met a couple months ago and I sucked him into my dysfunction, poor guy. He's new to the city new to the single world and I am merely showing him the ways of the land. So far, he's been my the most consistent out of all the members of my Bizarre Love Triangle...probably because he hasn't caught onto my insanity yet.

So there you have it, you've been invited to get a glimpse inside the mind of a genius. We'll see how long I keep this going before I want to either poke my eyes out, jump off a cliff, or at the very least, smash my vibrator against the wall.