Listen, I know you say you love me. But I can’t help but think that the reasons that you do is because I’ll give you anything you want and I don’t make you do anything in return. You’d love anyone with those odds.
I just don’t want to hear you say it until you can also show me that you actually do. You know, actions speak louder than words. And frankly, based on your past actions and the way things were before summer, I really doubt that you actually do. Love is a tricky word. And with all the meanings assigned to it in our muddled-up language, it’s easy for it to get confused with lust or appreciation or desperation.
And plus, I mean do you remember the first time you told me that? We were really drunk and you told me you loved me to get me to stop crying. I didn’t tell you why I was crying, but I thought you’d put it together that I started crying after you told me that you used to love to go down on your ex girlfriend all the time and that she didn’t taste like anything. I mean, come on, man. That’s not something you tell someone you supposedly “love.” How was I not supposed to fill it in with, “…but not you”? How’d you like it if I told you the last guy I slept with had a perfect penis and he could last for a really long time? Wouldn’t that make you feel shitty? I wouldn’t tell you that unless I wanted to hurt you. But I guess I kind of do want to hurt you, because you’ve hurt me a lot throughout this relationship. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t think about breaking up with you every day when we’re not talking. It’s because I know that I’m not about to stay in a relationship with the way things were before summer, and even though you make it sound like things are different, I have a hard time believing that they really will be.
Anyway, the point of it all is this: I don’t want to hear you tell me you love me until you can actually show me that you do. It’s not that hard, it’s just about not being selfish. Love is selfless. It’s about doing things that don’t benefit you for the sake of making your partner happy. It’s about looking past your immediate needs and taking the time to think about another person. I know you think I’m probably being condescending, but you need to really think about whether or not you’re even mature enough to love someone like that. Because when you say it, I don’t hear “I love you, Elizabeth.” I hear, “I love you, you incredibly life-like blow-up doll.”
And I guess it’s not fair to tell you that I want to you to completely different when we get back to school, but if things stay the way they are, I’m not wasting my time. And until then, don’t tell me you love me.
I don’t know why I think I can change people
It’s not that he’s changing, it’s just that he’s getting better at pretending to.
And when it all comes down to it, the exact same problem we had in the beginning, that we’ve talked countless times over and he claims to have completely changed over, is the one thing that still fucks up our relationship.
Whhhyyy
I don’t know if this is warranted or not, part 2
Another case of the boyfriend not caring about my happiness.
So. I called him and told him that I wasn’t mad, but it would have been nice if he had somehow conveyed that he cared about me after the cut-off skype sesh session, bla bla bla. There’s already a post about that, and I pretty much just summarized that for him. He agreed with me on every point. We talked about it. He apologized and seemed to understand. All is well, we move on, and talk about zombies for a little while.
He says he has to get off of the phone. Before he goes, he says that next time I am getting myself off, I should call him.
Later that night we are texting. I’m not even really in the mood, but I ask if I can call him anyway to take him up on his offer. He responds with “Yes!” I figure it’ll make him feel appreciated (I think…right?) and like I’m not shying away from the prospect after being upset about it earlier.
So I call him. It’s okay. He’s not the best dirty-talker, but that’s not his fault. I’m asking him questions, we’re talking about the stuff we’re going to do when he visits, the usual. Then he just stops. It’s kind of awkward. It’s like I have to keep pulling him into the conversation because his mind is elsewhere. It’s kind of disheartening, honestly. It’s like he doesn’t care if he’s not getting off too. Eventually he just stops talking to me entirely. I decide to fill the silence with regular fapping sounds - moans and gasps and the like. Eventually I come. Still silence. I say, “So.” He says, “So did you come?”
And I tell him yes. We talk for a bit, and I say, “You know, one of the best things about being female is that you can come multiple times in one session…” We talk about his refractory period for a while, how it only lasts 20 minutes or so, and I start going at it again, moans and gasps and all. All the while, I’m trying to get him to keep talking. I tell him that whenever we have sex again, I’m going to wake him up 20 minutes later for round 2. I’m going to suck his dick to wake him up. I’m going to jump on top of him and ride him, etc. I tell him about how hot it was the time that he woke me up for sex…I’m going on and on about this stuff trying to keep his focus on the conversation and not whatever else is vying for his attention while also trying to get myself off. Things are going okay when he says, “Listen, I’m going to have to go. I’m really tired.”
And that’s when I just stopped. What. Why. Why couldn’t you have waited for a few minutes more. I was in the middle of something. I just said, “Oh. Uh, I mean. Okay…” I made sure to sound as disappointed as I felt. He was like, “I’m just really tired.” And I said, “Okay.” He was like, “I’m sorry, I love you, goodnight.”
And I was just like, “Goodnight. I love you too.”
And then I just stopped. And wrote this blog post. And cried a little. Yeah, I’m a big baby. But I mean, come on. Who cuts off someone like that? I thought things were getting better. He just made it seem like he was waiting for me to be done and once I was, he wanted to get outta there asap. If I talk to him about his, I’m going to sound like an idiot. I don’t want to feel like I have to constantly keep talking when I’m on the phone with my boyfriend to keep him on the line and pretend like he’s listening to me. And there’s no way I’m getting off while I’m talking out of my ass to keep him - it’s not turning me on. I can’t multitask like that. I’m not talking to him about it. It’s just too much in one day. Dirty texts are fine, dirty pictures are fine, even skype sex is fine when both parties can stick around until the end. But phone sex, I think we’ve crossed that off of our list.
Though I kind of wish I could talk to him on the phone while he gets off and show him how its done. I mean, there wasn’t really any reason to be on the phone with him in the first place if he’s not talking. Ugggghhhh. If he ever suggests the idea again (which I doubt he’ll do based on his how much he apparently hated this time) I’m just going to tell him that it’s kind of useless unless he opens his mouth and puts forth some effort.
I don't know if this is warranted or not.
My boyfriend and I have had a few problems in our relationship, all of which basically boil down to the fact that he's pretty much learned and accepted the ass-backwards idea that sex is a man's game and women just put up with it. He hasn't really fully accepted the idea that in an ideal situation, each partner should orgasm during sex. Actually, he hasn't fully accepted the idea that the man should care about the woman's needs and work to make her happy. I want to believe that he's this way because society fed him this bullshit, but that he's willing to change.
I've talked to him about it many times. I mean, I haven't beat around the bush - I've gone into specifics and blatantly told him what I want out of a partner. He says that he's on the same page with it all, but his actions say otherwise. It's kind of a sore spot in our relationship, to say the least. I still haven't actually come from sex with him, and that's mainly because he hasn't deviated very much from sex sans foreplay that lasts more than 5 minutes. I try to get him to try new things and I've out and out asked him many times for things like oral sex, which he has never actually tried. I mean, I've been sucking his dick since the beginning of our relationship so I'm not sure what is stopping him from reciprocating.
Anyway, we've been away from each other for about a month, and we've been sending dirty texts, pictures, and having skype sex. All has been going well. I guess I was lying when I said I've never come from sex with him - I've come during skype sex. Uh, duh.
Except for this morning. I don't know whether its worth it to be upset over what happened.
Basically, we were going at it and a family friend comes over. I tell him that I have to go and that I'm sorry to cut it short. I send him pictures of my boobs, pussy, and ass, and then I go.
This is the text conversation that followed:
Me: *a slew of dirty pictures to compensate for me leaving*
Him: Jesus, I'm so wet
Me: Me too. Some family friends stopped by...man, that's the worst. I'm so horny. I'm glad you kept going though. Make it a good one.
Him: Do you wanna see the finished product when I'm done?
Me: Yes please!
Him: *picture of the finished product*
Me: Uhhhhhhhh I miss you. I wish I could lick it up.
Him: Hahahah I miss you too! I wish you could clean it up too.
Me: I'm sorry I had to cut it short :/
Him: Its cool. I finished either way.
Me: I'm glad you could. Man, I just wish I could.
And then I heard nothing back from him. Maybe I'm being irrational, but it would have been nice to to hear something back. "Its cool. I finished either way, I just wish you could have as well" Or, I don't know, anything that indicated in some way that he wanted me to be satisfied as well, or that me apologizing for having to leave wasn't even necessary because I WANTED to keep going, I just couldn't for reasons outside of myself. I tried to kind of bring it up with the "I just wish I could" and he just didn't respond. Whhyyyyyyyy.
I mean, I'm the one left hanging and he couldn't even take the time to pretend to care... I just don't know if it would be warranted to talk to him about it. I've never actually picked a fight with him over anything, but I kind of want to now. I want to ask him what his philosophy on sex is. Okay, that's it. That's what I'm doing. I'm going to ask him what he thinks makes for good sex. And if it deviates too much from my personal philosophy*, then I'm going to very much reconsider this relationship.
*My personal sex philosophy being that sex is about being completely selfless and doing what the other person wants. And if the other person feels the same way, then you will have two very happy people. If one person feels this way and the other doesn't, then you'll have one very unsatisfied partner that will eventually get sick of constantly giving and giving and giving and never getting anything back in return. And if you have two people who don't adopt this philosophy, you'll just have selfish sex all around.
24 May 2012: The Monthly Update
Things are good. The relationship is getting better by the day. I’ve been smoking a lot. Being healthy. And tan. Uh, yep. that’s all folks.
I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who feels this way, but here goes:
When you enter into an exclusive relationship, one in which neither partner is allowed to be intimate with any other person, I truly believe that it is the duty/responsibility of each party to take on the other person’s sexuality, desires, etc. in its entire.
And because I believe that sexuality should never be repressed, if one partner is unwilling to do something for the other that the other really wants, they should be allowed to pursue said thing outside of the relationship.
Because I truly believe that if you’re exclusively having sex with someone, you should like them enough to be all you can be for them in terms of their sexuality and what you’re willing to do or try. And if you’re not, it’s not fair to that person to stay with them.
Maybe I’m a people-pleaser, but I’d do pretty much anything that didn’t involve excruciating pain to myself or others (physically and mentally) if the guy I’m sleeping with wanted me to.
26 April 2012 A (Late) Monthly Update
This is a few days late because I’m been very busy. And by “busy,” I mean I’ve been dating this guy (the guy that my previous posts were about) for a couple of weeks and I’ve spent the majority of my time sucked into a love vortex. Okay, cheesy, yes, but we’ve kind of done nothing other than laying around, having sex, getting stoned, and laying around some more.
This sounds pretty fantastic and it generally is. Generally - there have been a few hiccups but it’s mainly just the result of me learning about him and vice versa.
So yeah, I’m pretty damn happy right now even though I’ve let pretty much everything but the relationship go by the wayside.
Last November, I met a guy. He was a new DJ at my station.
He facebook messaged me a few times. I wasn’t really interested in talking to him initially, but he was a good conversationalist and I found myself talking to him for hours on end without realizing it. As much as I didn’t want to be bothered by this new guy, I almost couldn’t not continue contact with him.
So eventually we exchanged numbers. We talked every day. It’s March now. I guess it should be said that we’ve talked every day since our first conversation.
Eventually, we started hanging out in person. Smoking weed, specifically, because that’s what we both enjoyed doing and it was something that we had in common.
Even more eventually, we started hanging out everyday to the point where we became inseparable. Co-dependent, even. He confessed to me that he had feelings for me. I didn’t reciprocate. He said that he would be fine just being friends. So that’s what we were.
A little while later, it came up again. Once again, he told me that he had feelings for me. Again, I told him that I couldn’t give him those feelings back. Because I really couldn’t. He agreed to keep being friends. Nothing changed. He cooked dinner for me every night, cleaned my room, and followed me around like a puppy. My friends all felt bad for him, in a way I’m sure. But over time, he befriended my friends and treated them like his own. This was in the fall.
That same fall, I had not kissed a single boy in months. This was very out of the ordinary for me. I wanted to end my dry spell.
In February, this boy and I decided to but a bong together. We split the cost and smoked out of it all the time. On the night that we bought it, we all went to a party (this boy included) and I found a suitable candidate for my dry spell break. We all smoked together while the guy that I met at the party, we’ll call him Docks because of his shoes, smooched. We were kissing in my car and I realized that I would rather be hanging out with my friend, the guy that this story is about, than smooching on Docks. I made an excuse to get rid of him and found my friend. He was ready to leave. I happily obliged. We left the party and he slept on our couch that night.
He wanted to meet our neighbors, so we knocked on the door and soon enough, we were regularly having smoke sessions with the guys that lived next door. One of them was named Tim. Tim and I also began having our own smoke sessions, and on Valentine’s Day he asked me out on a date. The night before Valentine’s Day, my friend wanted to smoke. I lied and told him that I was too tired. Instead I went over to the neighbor’s and smoked with Tim. The next day, Valentine’s Day, I told my friend everything. I felt bad about lying and wanted him to know about my prospective date. I honestly thought that he was over me by this point. We spent the day hanging out, running errands, and he went to the laundromat with me.
Things stayed the same until one night when we were all drinking. My friend and I had drank together many times before. We smoked weed together, did acid and whippets together, we were used to being under the influence around each other, even alone. We were watching a movie with friends. My friend and I were sharing a couch and a blanket. In my drunken haze, I put my head on his shoulder. Then we held hands.
Our sober friend drove us most of the way home, to his dorm, then my friend drove us to my apartment. He was drunk. We made it home safely and he stayed the night. Instead of sleeping on the couch, he slept in my bed. We didn’t do anything except fool around, but every time we would start kissing I would recoil and drunkenly slur out something like, “We can’t do this. You’re my FRIEND.” But I still couldn’t stop myself from fooling around with him.
The next morning, I woke up with a massive hangover, half-naked in bed next to my friend in the same state. I turned to him and said, “Fuck.” I don’t think that’s what he wanted to hear. Then I said, “You’re still my best friend.” Also probably not what he wanted to hear, but he replied with “I know” and hugged me.
The next night, he asked to stay over. I wanted him to. We repeated the night before, but sober. He’s stayed at my apartment every night since then.
A few nights later, we slept together. It was good. Really good. I would have never expected it. Subsequently, we’ve had consistent, fantastic sex from then until the present. Nothing about our friendship dynamic had changed in the slightest, really. We’d shower together. We’d do homework together. Sometimes we’d roll around on the floor kissing and laughing for too long. Sometimes we’d lounge around and listen to vinyl for hours and not say anything.
He just called me up on the phone and asked to be in an exclusive relationship.
I said okay.
1.
