So it seems like I had my life exactly on track the way I wanted it last time I was here... oh how things change.
Once again I find myself in old patterns. In the past year or so, anytime I find myself "between" relationships I call on an old "friend" (read: someone I dated and got along great with, but not on the same page dating-wise, but great sex nonetheless). Oh, by the way, "man of my dreams" from a couple of posts ago and I have had a parting of the ways, as we unfortunately found ourselves to be in different phases in our lives and not as compatible as we once thought. But this isn't meant to be a pity party, this is the about-to-be-drunken-ramblings of me, needing to figure out where the hell my head is, and thinking, possibly mistakenly, that my seldom-updated blog is exactly the venue in which to do it. (Oh, in case I forgot to mention it, I cracked a bottle of red, and am systematically showing that motherfucker who's boss).
Where the hell was I going with that?...
Ok, think I got it.
So I am the girl who lets everyone think that I'm all anti-relationship, that I am fine on my own, that I don't need anyone. What a load. I finally found someone who I completely, 100% fell in love with, thinking he felt exactly the same way about me, and what happened? I got suckerpunched, that's what. If I go into any details at all I will be blubbering in my aforementioned shiraz, and that would be a ridiculous abuse of unsuspecting wine, but suffice it to say, I feel I got my butt handed to me on this one. So now I am doing my usual... running straight back to C in desperate attempt at distracting my brain from thinking about what happened with ridiculous hot sex the same night of the breakup. So now I find myself wondering if this makes me a bit of a slut? I was at a poker game with a bunch of girls back in the spring, some good friends mixed with some girls I had never met before, and near the end of the night, after I found myself sans poker chips, I found myself in conversation with a girl I had just met that night. (Just to preface this, everyone at that poker table was married with the exception of myself and J, who is in a long term relationship). Anyway, the conversation came around to my relationship status (something I find all married people are pathologically unable to sidestep), and after more than a few glasses of whatever it was I was drinking that night, I told her I was single, but sleeping with a few different people. I swear I could FEEL the eyebrows raise in that room (married women scandalized). At the time I couldn't care less what anyone thought about it, and still don't really (I advocate safe sex, and am very careful), but now I find myself wondering if I am avoiding the pain of breakups and loneliness by engaging in meaningless sex, and thinking I might be the emotional equivalent of... um... fucking shiraz.
Oh fuck it. I'm having more sex than married women. Eat me.
*Erase-Rewind - The Cardigans*