I wrote this in September of 2001, probably about a one night stand. It’s amazing how great sex fucks with my brain. Lol.
I saw myself last night
In a sea of the most passionate lovemaking
of my life
It was like your body
Knew me like an old friend
Even though we just met
2 nights ago
I wrote this on January 1st, 2003 about this dude that I hooked up with a week prior. I was upset about John and of course wanted to escape from my feelings of rejection. So I started once again seeking validation from men and ended up hooking up with some guy from the bar.
The night I met you
I was drunk and blue
Because of that impossible love
Who said I wasn’t good enough
So I decided to drink my pain away
and then you came my way
With your charming and smooth manner
I should’ve known you were a player
But you told me everything
That I wanted to believe in
How you had never met anyone like me
And that you wanted us to be
It sound almost too good to be true
But i was feeling lonely too
So i decided to give in to you
Afterwards you promised to call
But instead you went awol
And many days later I sit here
In a river of foolish tears
Wondering why why why
I always fall for the same false lines
I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way that they almost always seem to just want the fun and sexy part of me but seem to often have problems seeing the rest of me. I’ve almost always felt like I’ve been good enough to be their lover but never good enough to be introduced to their mother. Do I still feel this way? I honestly don’t know. I like the attention and validation I get from men because of my looks but sometimes it feels so hollow.
Tell me I’m pretty, tell me I’m sexy
Tell me I’m beautiful
Objectify me, fuck me,
Forget about me
Try to come back to me
And when I deny
your lust filled request,
Put me down, threaten me
Try to hurt me-
Your words mean nothing to me
You’re not the first
But will be the last
Who tries to destroy me
You’re not the first
But will be the last
Who treats me like a doll
to fuck at your convenience
You’re not the first
But will be the last
That tells me I’m not good enough
Tell me you miss, tell me you want me
Tell me you’re sorry
Be persistent in your quest
In trying to get me in your bed
with empty promises
about how this time it will be different
Sorry to my past, my present, and
I am pass being the girl
that’s just used for fun-
I am pass being the lover
you never introduce to your mother
I’d rather live in a world
of solitude and calm
than to once again fall
into the objectification trap
I wrote this in December of 2002 after I had a one night stand with this dude I met in a bar and he didn’t tell me he was married. I found out a few days later when a coworker told me. I felt shame, guilt, and like a dirty whore for what happened even thought I knew that this time I was an unwilling homewrecker. It was rough.
This was a mistake
I wish I could unmake
I didn’t mean to kiss you
And I didn’t mean for us to screw
But the alcohol got to my head
That somehow led me to your bed
And now you have to understand
Our destiny has been written in the sand
You will never be the man I dream of
Who will deserve the best of my love
So now it’s about time
for you to open your eyes
What happened between you and I
Was chemistry I could no longer deny
So stop trying to interrupt my life
And just go back to your wife
I wrote this in December of 2002. This was written about John before he ghosted me. If you can’t tell already, I have a tendency to idealize the men in my life.
I haven’t felt this way in a while
I just get high from talking to you
You just drive me so damn wild
You just don’t know
How you about kill me
When you have to go
Now I couldn’t even imagine
Living without your presence
You are my most wonderful sin
And I will pray every night
That my love you never try to fight
I wrote this in April 2002 after sleeping with Lucas for the first time. This situation was fucked up and crazy for many reasons but that’s another story time blog post. Let’s just say that I’m not great at making the best life choices at times.
I finally fucked
the forbidden married man
It was good, it was great
it was wonderful
It was a heaven full of ecstasy
It was dirty, it was shameful
it was ugly
It was a hell full of guilt
Me and Valentine’s Day have a history – well a sordid kind of history full of trauma and drama. Since I can remember I’ve always wanted a Valentine Day where I had the perfect day with my special someone. To me that would feel like a hallmark movie. This hallmark movie would include chocolate, flowers, lots of hand holding and kissing in, romantic dinner and a grand romantic gesture from my partner. The gesture would be so thoughtful, it would make me tear up with happiness. Yes, my expectations were high on this day but hey don’t blame me – I grew up on 90s rom coms and Telenovelas. Let’s talk about my history with this day.
At 14, I was super hyped about this day because I finally had a special someone to celebrate this day with, my first boyfriend, Jude. We went to the Valentine’s Day Dance at the school where we slow danced to the most romantic 90’s songs. Picture Boyz II Men and Mariah Carey playing in the background as I feel myself falling in love. Jude even bought me a rose and unexpectedly gave me this nice sterling silver bracelet and I teared up. I felt like wow, this is so romantic and magical, is this real? Is this too good to be true? Well, ha-ha it was. A week later he broke up with me around my birthday because he realized we were better off as friends. Also, he needed the bracelet back, it has been his mom’s that he had stolen to give it to me. It would be my first taste of drama and trauma surrounding this holiday.
In my late teens and early 20s I was always single on Valentine’s Day. Because of that I would get salty as all my partnered coworkers would get flowers delivered to their office or talked about their stupid romantic plans. One day me and my close friend/coworker Mary- said fuck it, we’ll be each other’s valentine. We’ll send flowers to each other and go out to lunch. It was a great Valentine’s Day that year. We had our own kind of Galantine’s before Leslie Knope made it a thing.
After that, I was with my co-parent/roommate, and this is what I wrote about that day in 2014:
“Valentine’s Day is a waste of a day for older married couples with kids. I suppose that sounds slightly bitter and biased based on my own experiences. I don’t ever remember my parents celebrating Valentine’s Day and they’re still married. So much importance and consumerism is given to this particular day it makes one wonder -how did we as a society eat up all the hype concerning this particular holiday and regurgitated it with “oh so much love, kindness, flowers, chocolates, cards, etc.” The world would be a much better place if love and kindness was practiced more often. It could be part of the new movement called “love and kindness” awareness and it could be marketed with T shirts, pins, and don’t forget the Bumper Stickers” Somehow I think this already happens with the movement “make America kind again” after the last brutal election. Anything can be marketed and consumable by the masses if it makes them feel good about themselves. And that’s why Valentine’s Day is still such a big deal. People that celebrate “their love” can now prove their awesome love by snapchatting or instagraming that shit. Valentine’s Day is just another symptom of the curse of consumerism. `
I was obviously very bitter and jaded when I wrote this. To be fair to my coparent/ roommate, he did try his best some years to fulfill my unrealistic expectations of the day and well- he couldn’t. I do have to mention that one day-I was pleasantly surprised that he bought me a coach perfume, I mentioned wanting it as a joke. I didn’t think he would get it for me, but he did.
In 2018 we opened our marriage and started hooking up/dating dudes. I was also going through a period where my hypersexuality was very intense. I was at a social event drunk, and I got the bright idea that I needed to hook up with someone, anyone that night. So, I met this random dude at the hotel room. I met him from an app, and he had no pictures-and that was for good reason. Ugh, he wasn’t attractive at all, but I was drunk, wanted to have sex, and I was too cute to be alone on Valentine’s Day. Drunk me + hypersexuality +God Complex =no standards for hooking up. Anyways me and this guy have incredibly hot sex and he’s talking dirty. This is all normal except then he starts saying weird things like “I could picture spending my life with you” or “I can see us really falling in love” as he’s ramming me every which way. I don’t want to ruin the mood, so I just figure its weird kink and go with it. I don’t want to ruin the mood and figure, maybe this dude is just lonely or whatever. So, after we have this hot sex, we both go our separate ways. I don’t expect to hear from him. Well, the next day, he blows up my phone wanting to hook up again and I respond telling him “No, it was a onetime thing”. He responds, “we had good chemistry and I’m falling in love with you”. I responded, “I’m not looking for anything like that”. After that what follows are texts, slut shaming with every name in the book “whore, bitch, slut, while also trying to convince me that according to him “we could be so good together”:” I do call him out on his misogyny, but he doesn’t want to hear and says he doesn’t care and continues to insult me while trying to convince me to see him. I’m confused and think “wow, this happened to me as a consequence of my own actions, maybe I deserve it, Idk”. I do proceed to block him. It could have been a nice memory of hot sex of Valentine’s Day but once again it’s marked by trauma and drama. Will I ever have a nice Valentine’s Day? I just want to feel loved and be loved on that day? Why is it so hard?
Fast forward to last year, when I was in love with my recent ex, the second Andrew. That year I had all of the ingredients for my hallmark movie like Valentine’s Day, right? We celebrated V-day on Feb.13, the Saturday before it because of my hectic work schedule. It was really close to perfect. There was good food, wine, butterflies in both of our stomachs cause we’re in love, and dancing. He even makes a grand and thoughtful gesture and I’m so touched I’m almost moved to tears. This is my Hallmark real life movie. Fucking finally, right? I’m so happy and I feel so loved, I share that happiness out in the world with a tweet. Now my relationship with the second Andrew is polyamorous so I’m careful that I don’t tag him and make sure his other partner Sharon is not following me on twitter. I don’t want to hurt any feelings. I ‘m just so grateful to feel loved and be loved by this wonderful man, it’s important for me to share it out there in the world. Among everything crazy and chaotic in my life, I have this perfect memory of love. It’s almost too good to be true right, and it was, a few days later, I hear from him how Sharon’s feelings were hurt by my tweet. I told him about how I made sure that she didn’t see my tweet, but he tells me I’m accountable because my twitter is public. So, to smooth things over, I felt forced apologized for tweeting out my fucking happiness. It was great (insert sarcasm). I remember afterwards feeling this incredible sense of shame and guilt for Sharon’s feelings being hurt by my tweet and at the time I wrote in my journal, “maybe we should break up so she can have him all to herself, I don’t have the time or energy to fight for a man”. I didn’t of course but maybe I was starting to see the cracks in my relationship with the second Andrew. There is a lot more to this story about the second Andrew, but that content will be shared much later this year or next year. I could say that I wish I hadn’t been informed about Sharon’s feelings, but I’ve learned to accept that it happened, and it is what it is. It was just annoying that it was once again another Valentine’s Day followed by drama and trauma.
This year, I decided to flip the switch and rather than feeling sorry or pity for myself to for
being alone; I’m turning this day which is traumatic into a triumphant one. I have declared it my self love day where I’m my own Valentine. I’ve made it so that the only one that can ruin the day is me. Lol. My plan is to take the day off and do the following:
- Wake and exercise.
- Buy myself flowers.
- Watch an episode or two of “You” because I need some time with my king (Joe Goldberg).
- Listen to the Queens on vinyl and write.
- Drink wine and eat tacos while I watch “Kill Bill ” and other violent movies.
- Do all this while I wear my red lingerie and take gratuitous selfies for some sexy self-care later. Wink, wink.
It looks like I’m finally getting my own romantic movie starring myself after 25 years. Except we won’t call it a Hallmark movie, it’s more of an Indie film. I will post an update on how it all went on next Valentine’s Day.
I wrote this in November of 2002. November was such a chaotic month that year that I don’t remember who wrote this about. I think it was probably a one night stand that I had a connection with. It’s obvious that I read way too much into the situation than I should have.
My mind tries to forget
Everything that happened last night
But my heart puts up a fight
My mind tells me it’s wrong and a mistake
But my heart yells that it wasn’t just sex
But it was also fate
My mind considers it a lost cause
but my heart finds a love feeling once lost
For the thirsty Thursday before Valentine’s Day, I have a sexy playlist for y’all. I’m a very sensual person which should be obvious from reading my blog. I’ve have had different types of sex from one night stands to FWBs to bdsm partners to longterm romantic partners. I’m not in any way ashamed of my sexual adventures. I’m actually proud of my versatility in my sexual adventures that I’ve had for more than 2 decades. It’s one of the perks of my BPD, my hypersexuality. The way I see it, when I get to be an old woman in my 90’s I won’t regret looking back on my life wishing I had tried a certain sexual experience because chances are I’ve probably tried it. Now, have I been slut shamed and judged for my adventurous sex life? Oh yeah, I’ve been slut shamed many, many times since I started having sex and as recently as last year. I could write more about slut shaming but that’s another blog post. Sex for me is one of the best things in life. And I’m not just talking with a partner;I’m also talking about sexy self love with your plastic boyfriend from Amazon (aka your vibrator) and a fantasy in mind. This playlist can be played while you’re fucking or making love to your partner or masturbating. It could be played whether you feel like a sensual princess or a seductive Queen.In the words of George Michael, “Sex is natural, sex is fun…not everybody does it but everybody should”. Also, as someone that works for Public Health, I will tell you to get tested for STI/HIV on a regular basis if you are sexually active and always, always use protection.
The ones in bold really get me going:
Dress -Taylor Swift
Need You Tonight-INXS
Earned It -The Weekend
I Touch Myself -Divinyls
Come and Talk to Me-Jodeci
Any Time, Any Place- Janet Jackson
Doin’ It-LL Cool J
God is a woman-Ariana Grande
Good For You-Selena Gomez
I’ll Make Love To You-Boyz II Men
Lights Down Low-MAX
Red Light Special-TLC
Sexual Healing-Marvin Gaye
I Wanna Sex You Up-Color Me Badd
Leave The Door Open-Bruno Mars
I Want Your Sex-George Michael
Like a Prayer- Madonna
Freak Like Me-Adina Howard
WAP-Cardi B, Megan Thee Stallion
Love You Down-Ready For The Word
Below are the links for your listening pleasure:
I wrote this in November of 2002 after meeting John. When I get excited about someone, I get EXCITED!
I don’t know how you got me
to feel like this again
So happy, so free
For once, I’m excited about living
Maybe it was the way
We danced to the music
Quickly finding our own rhythm
Or the way you kissed me
Gently on my face
Or maybe, just maybe, it’s love
She came in before him into the same house she was at a year ago. She wonders to herself why she‘s there at all. She knows the minute she steps into the room; it will be like welcoming back a ghost into her life. She feels like she has no choice. He offers her a drink, and she gladly takes many, hoping that this will numb the outcome her mindless and impulsive actions have taken her to. She wants to say “no” and that she has a boyfriend she wants to be faithful to but knows that now it’s too late. She stops him for a minute after he takes off her shirt and unhooks her bra. She tells him she needs to use the bathroom, and in the bathroom, she writes this. A night she would like to forget.
I wrote this in November 2002 after a seeing my one of my exes. Chronic feelings of emptiness are one of the symptoms of BPD and in the past I’ve tried to escape it with alcohol or sex. I tried sex this time and it didn’t work.
She wants to enjoy herself
as his once familiar hands and lips
explore her body
But she can’t
He kisses her breasts
and she feels nothing
His hands touch those special
turn -on places in her body
And her body remains cold and numb
Then she realizes this meaningless act
of intimacy she uses to satisfy
her body’s urges
is no longer enough
She now needs something more,
she is frightened but the newfound emptiness
Of it all
She realizes she need love
I wrote this in August of 2002 reflecting on Andrew and Lucas. I thought that they were 2 of the greatest loves of my life. I obviously don’t feel that way anymore. I understand now that due to the circumstances out of my control, there was no way I could have had long term relationships with them.
I’m scared of love. Maybe I jeopardize and push away any opportunity of love knocking on my door. Or maybe it is truly bad luck. I don’t know anymore. I feel so numb and used at the same time. This love shit seems so pointless. I feel like I lost out on the greatest love of my life either 4 years ago or 2 months ago, perhaps. Maybe I shouldn’t have worried so much about the others and fought for the love I felt for Andrew and Lucas but I had no clue as to how they felt about me. To Andrew, I felt like a passing fad but damn I would’ve done anything for him. For Lucas, I still believe that I was an escape for him whom I also had a great friendship with. I shared everything I ever was with him. I shared my feelings, my thoughts, I even gave him my most vulnerable aspect, my heart. These two men will always and forever be in my heart, a place many had tried to reach but only two have succeeded.
I wrote this in June of 2002 about Lucas after I had slept with him for the last time. I’m pretty sure that this was after I had started dating Damon. I guess I was looking for love wherever I could get it.
After making love to him
I lie awake in his arms
And the only thought
that crosses thru my mind
is that “I want to stay here
With you my love”
But even wishing something like that
Would be violated by our complicated lives
And maybe even regretful sacrifices
So I lie in bed in a life
that is anything but the truth
and wonder to myself
If to you,
I will ever be worth more
Than just your special friend