Dear John

Fuck me, I love John Mayer. I love his music. All of it. The man just moves me.

I just had a bath with John. Bottle of red, candles, bubbles, the whole nine yards. Was a beautiful thing.

While in the tub, I was flirting dangerously close to the line with someone who lives with his girlfriend. Not in the disrespectful way. In the "he'd been drinking and was looking for validation and I just told him that I'd consider fucking him if he weren't in a relationship which he is so moot point" way. He's smart, attractive, a little cocky which for some reason turns me right the fuck on...and I find it all too easy to call him on his BS and tell him flat out "consider yourself validated let's move on..."

So I'm in the dark place. Still. And I still miss sex. A lot. Frustration makes me say fuck a lot. Fuck.

I went to R's tonight after work. I had left a hoodie there a couple of months ago. So seeing him is always hard and a let down and increasingly easier every time but still a drag. Then I got stuck in traffic for an hour with no a/c in 28 degree weather. On Monday a semi's second trailer unhitched in front of me on deerfoot and I can honestly say that I could have died, so me and and traffic are on the outs. I blame R. Not for the semi, but for getting stuck in traffic. The best part of the whole trip was his brother telling me "You look really good from far away."

Really?

Thanks, Benny.

Fuck.

So I've been gone a while. Long time actually. For the whole 8 months that I was hopelessly in love with R to now...7 months after we broke up and me still a little stupid over him.

So on the great news front, I can safely say that I am over C. Over the hurt, just over that whole thing in my life and moved on. The whole reason that I started this blog in the first place has become a part of my distant past - something that sucked, but I lived to love another day.

...That's where things got sticky for me. I can't express how much I regret not writing through that phase of my life - the love another day part. The happy that I felt, and the way I felt cared for. For a while it felt like the most real, loving relationship I'd ever had... then the chem trails and vaccine conspiracies and New World Order and buying silver and selling his truck and the moving to Australia. Not that R is in Australia. He didn't go. He's doing his thing around town, being 40, smoking dope and waiting for the 40 plus hockey league. (That comment was a little shallow and quoted from my co-worker who was obviously trying to cheer me up.)

Anyways, I'm 30 in a couple of months. Another reason to write, I guess. Somehow I find myself back on my blog, which was my sanctuary when I first started it. 30, heart still stinging from the last one, no idea where to find the next one, and not a lot of drive to start looking. Except I miss sex. A lot. R and I did the casual ex sex thing a few months ago. I'm pretty sure that he's seeing someone else now...so that reopened the gash and cut me off all at once. I'm not a one night stand or ex sex kinda girl anyway. Ok, stopping thinking about it now. My point is, I kinda gave up on men. And that is unacceptable, because I used to LOOOOVE men. I know deep down I STILL LOOOOOVE men. So I will write. Because man hatred is a dark, dark place.