It’s not that I don’t have anything to write about. I could write about the top five best songs to fuck to – a post I started a couple weeks ago. Or I could write about why people cheat – a request from a reader. Or I could write about the reservations I’ve been starting to have about Tom.
But the thing is, I don’t really want to write about any of that. I am spent. Work has been a serious motherfucking cocksucker. And I’ve been thinking too much about my relationship with Tom. I feel like my head is going to explode.
Alright, here I go. Tom is moving way too fast. He demands so much of my time, has already said the L word (no, buttmunch, not lesbian) and wants to move in together. It’s only been two and a half months.
He’s also broke, irresponsible with money and has a crazy streak in which he goes apeshit when something pisses him off. He’s usually a super duper nice guy – to me, to waiters, to store clerks, to everyone… until something sets him off and he turns into a scary circus clown on a bad acid trip.
I experienced this last week when we got in our first major blowout. He fought mean and raised irrational arguments. I thought it was over. Then he apologized a trillion times for being such a jerk. When I saw him on the weekend I initially had serious doubts — but then we had a wonderful time together.
Except for that one time, he’s incredibly sweet. He opens doors for me, always drives, hates to let me pay (despite the broke-ness), hugs and kisses me all the time, tells me I’m beautiful 20 times a day. He’s romantic as hell and I adore the way he treats me when we’re together. No one has ever treated me so nicely.
He’s also a giant goofball like me and doesn’t seem to mind that I dance like a special needs child in the grocery store.
And the orgasms… Oh, my, the orgasms.
Why does he want to be with me all the time? I can’t be that charming! I’m feeling pressured. Sometimes I really feel like the guy in this relationship.
Maybe I’m the one with the problem. Maybe this is why I’m single. Nobody is perfect, are they?
Fuck this shit. I don’t like writing like this. It’s lame and whiny and boring and trite. I don’t want to use this blog to vent like a bitch.
I decided to write stream of consciousness and this is what came out. Finger vomit. Because, ya know, I’m typing.
A Bright Spot
Oh! I do have some good news – Tom finally shot a wad! A lotta wad. Wad all over the place. He reduced the dosage on his meds and now he’s like a Super Soaker 5000.
Maybe now he’ll relax a bit.
I’m out. Sorry for being such a lame-o. But I do feel a little better. If you’re a first-time reader, please click on some of my other posts. They are much better.
And here’s a little bit of awesome for you in an attempt to redeem myself. You won’t be sorry you watched this, promise.