fucking perfect/ perfect fucking

Screen Shot 2018-07-17 at 5.21.48 AM

note the example sentence. yes, thanks for reminding me i’m alone & unlovable.

It appears that my time with Mr Vaguely reminiscent of Benedict Cumberbatch has come to an end. I ludicrously hope not, that somehow, something will happen to make it all ok. He may be self-professed “not relationship material” but damn, the sex was perfect. Fucking perfect. Perfect fucking. Truly.

I’m pretty over the whole “opt out” game, the cancelled plans, the fact that I only ever saw him once every few weeks. For sex. But the sex. Dear fucking god… the sex.

I woke up this morning and am thinking of him. Even crying in sheer frustration, the thought of him makes me long to see him, touch him, smell him.

There has been so much bullshit. He has issues. I do too but I am super open. I communicate, probably too much. Yeah, I’m publishing my weird journal about my sex/lack of sex/ love/lack of love life on the internet. I totally overshare. My cards are always on the table.  He keeps his cards in a fucking safe. Yet he is 100% open as a lover. 100% present. So sensitive. So in tune with me. So free. I would deal with all the bullshit if only we could keep having sex. Because it is just perfect. 100%. Fucking perfect. Perfect fucking.

Read that definition of perfect again. It’s accurate. The sex we have is literally perfect.

Of course I know that doesn’t make a relationship. No duh. But I don’t fucking care!

The last time we were together it was particularly perfect. It always is/was (changing to past tense is breaking my fucking heart)  but somehow more perfect than usual. I felt so connected with him, so safe and adored. Not loved. But thoroughly adored. Touched with the utmost affection, attention and desire. The desire is/was off the charts. It was more perfect than perfect. I don’t have a fucking word for the level of physical gorgeousness we experience together.

I can’t deal with never having that again. I can’t face never seeing him again, never sharing that again with him. And I have to. It’s reality. I guess I should be grateful that I had it at all.

But I’m such a greedy cunt I just want more.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s