But I just can’t get back to blogging. A happy life is one without anything to talk about. Maybe not happy, per se, but certainly one mostly free of drama. Without drama, what do you write about? Things are good, for those who care.
I have more than anyone will ever know, save the Ex and myself.
Yesterday was rather normal. My son was here, we were playing video games, the GF was at work. It was a good weekend, overall, and the day had been good as well. Then I get the text. It wasn’t so much the text, but the picture in it.
I like tits as much as any other man, but these were strange to me. Now, anyways. They were tits I hadn’t seen in about 8 years. The were The Ex’s. They were bigger than I remembered (having an extra kid will do that I’m sure) and I liked them. A lot. Then and now.
The conversation started as witty banter and mild insults, the verbal equivalent of winks and elbow jabs, but things escalated quickly from there. Prowess came up, and I was spinning tales of oral acrobatics and stamina. Then the worst came (not what you think).
She offered me sex. She said if I ever wanted casual sex with someone who wouldn’t tell anyone, she was my woman. That she had been considering it in her newfound sexual freedom (coughslutcough) since I was tops of the list in terms of fucking last she remembered.
After 8 years she offers me sex. It was about 7 years too late, though it threw me for a loop. I was shocked, awed, and excited. I also was guilty, having a hard time coping, and wondering why. After all this time, why give me what I thought I no longer wanted now? Her timing was horrible, or great depending, since the GF had recently started a no sex til marriage born again virgin kind of thing. I’d masturbated a lot, but hadn’t real sex in weeks.
I considered it, and for that I feel like a shithead, still. But I haven’t stopped considering it. What does that make me? I have the picture on my phone still, peeking time after time at her breasts. When I spoke with her while dropping the Son off, all I could see in my head were those tits, only thoughts were of fucking her in so many ways, and it was all I could do to not make things awkward.
What does that say about me, though? It makes me question who I think I am, to a point. I would still fuck her, and I still love her. Is the rest a lie?
Suppose it depends on the next steps I take. Refuse or submit to the offer. Time shall tell, because unlike normal times, I am weak to this one.
I had a dream the other day that greatly disturbed me. Many of the details were mundane and harmless, but the end is what got to me. The Earth was dying. Oxygen, that gas we so desperately need, was running low. People were dying. We were all that was left. I remember singing Crazy by Aerosmith as we ran to some forgotten destination. Then I remember the blackness overtaking me just before waking.
I’ve died in dreams before. Well, woke up just before the dying, anyways. This time was different. I could feel all of it. The dsrkness was slow to come, and while running began to slow and the words of Crazy slurred, I could feel my hand falling asleep. Eventually I could not control that hand, or my legs, and died lying on the grass, gasping “I’m crazy for you baby”.
I immediately woke after that, dramatic, cinematic, and surprisingly without waking Karen, shooting straight up from sleep, eyes wide, breathing heavy. My nose was a bit stopped up, but I doubt that’s what brought the dream. A few moments later I was lying back down, but I wouldn’t be sleeping again for a while. The next day was a drag, but thankfully the dream faded from memory and I can now write it without the tightness in my chest welling up.
I’m still alive, and haven’t posted anything in over two years. Doubt anyone even bothers to check this anymore.
Today is Valentine’s Day. “But Walin” I hear you thinking ” don’t you HAVE a girlfriend this year? Shouldn’t you be not sitting at your computer? Shouldn’t you be with her?” Yeah, I probably should, but first let me tell you a story. This is a tale of deception, lies, and surprise.
I was off work today, but I had a friend call from work and say I needed to work. This did three things: 1. Got Karen out of the house so i could set up for the day. 2. Let me get time away from her to GET the things I need (hard to do when you have someone at your side constantly) and 3. Gave me some time to my fucking self.
Yeah, I shouldn’t complain but everyone needs alone time. It’s Valentine’s Day to boot, so I should feel doubly bad. Perhaps I would if I didn’t have some nice surprises planned. As an update, we have an apartment of our own now. She’s not working yet, though, so she gets bored and much like a puppy, pounces on me and doesn’t let go when I get home from work. Makes it hard to relax.
I love her to death, but I’m not getting the ME time that we, as humans, all require from time to time. So I don’t feel bad about it. She is spending time with her mother today and I am watching porn, blogging, and listening to whatever music I want. We don’t always agree on good bands.
Hope you all have a good day. Anyone have any good porn sites?
Not happy about it.