the life and musings of a kinky slut

Dwindled Roster

And just like that, there were none. 

I am no longer dating any of the three boys from the friend group. I suppose this was inevitable. It is difficult for one person to fit what three different people want. For me in particular, it was difficult to find the balance of trying to make myself be with all three of them, although for very different reasons. 

The first ended quickly. A bright flash that burnt out almost as soon as it was lit. The fucking was spectacular, and we did have one rather hot rope scene, brief as it was. But we were done almost as soon as we started. I felt I gave more than was received back. It was so often about his emotions, his frustrations, his feelings, his relationships, his job, his life. There was an imbalance in emotional expenditure, and I knew I could not let that remain with this being a year of healing for me. But from him, I met his two friends. 

Verbose lasted much longer. He and I dated, even though we didn’t call it that. I slept over at his place about once every week or two for four months. Occasionally my sleepover was during the week. I woke up early for work and was greeted with a cup of tea and a breakfast for the road waiting for me. We played. We fucked. At times both were great, but it was those times that were not great that were our downfall. I talked to Verbose about the things I didn’t want, but unfortunately that information was not absorbed. I don’t believe it is petty to break up with someone when they do all of the things you don’t like all in the same date. 

I liked Verbose. I liked our flirting via voice messages. I liked our long conversations (when he found the time to not just talk about himself). I liked cuddling with him on his couch and watching television. I liked holding his hand and snuggles in his bed at night. We both ran hot, which made it funny, but waking up with him next to me was lovely. But he licked the front of my teeth, and but my lips as much as kissed them, and never let me kiss his bottom lip. He bit my stomach so hard I pushed him off. He took offense when my friend griped about work for two minutes on the phone when he had spent fifteen to twenty minutes just previously dumping his work angst onto me. He never stayed over at my place, never. It felt like I put more effort into seeing him than he put into seeing me. Again, the pouring out with much less being poured in. Merely wanting something to work does not always make it work.

Bro, the third member of the group, was and is my friend. He clocked my attraction to Verbose from jump, pushed me to name what was happening and supported me as we meandered in our doomed interaction. He took me on dates that were equal parts getting to know one another but also bonding with each other. In the twist of all twists, Bro doesn’t want a romantic relationship with me. No sex. Maybe play. Instead, he wants to be my friend and push me towards the romantic life I actually want. 

It’s good to have people around you who tell you the truth and push you to admit the truth.

I want someone to choose me. I want to be someone’s somebody. I want to date, to be in a relationship, to have a primary partner and grow a life with someone. In a two hour conversation this afternoon, Bro made many observations on what he saw from the conversations we’d had and the ways I’d interacted with his friends. It is easy to talk to Bro about any and everything. So, I did. And he paid attention:
– “Do you see a pattern here?”
– “Why do you think that is?”
– “Have you been working to try to make that happen?”
– “Just because your life looks different doesn’t mean you’re not patterning your decision making off what you saw growing up.”
– “You are worthy of love. Can you say that to yourself?” 

Yes, he read me for filth. Yes, I needed to hear it. No, I did not throw anything at him. In another life, Bro was a counselor.

So here we are. The roster has dwindled to a trickle. I’m going to see Sword Fighter next weekend. Rollercoaster is falling back into old patterns. Kidney is not treating me like I matter to him. 

I know I deserve better. One of my intentions this year is to achieve just that, better. Better interactions with men in my life. Less settling. Less putting up with bullshit.

2024, here we go.

Categorised as: Uncategorized

Comments are disabled on this post

Comments are closed.