August 16, 2016|
Heard from her a couple nights ago. She was lustful. I responded in kind. I later obliged her drunken request with a dirty email and texted her one word: fulfilled. As in I fulfilled the request. I hope it's not some stupid next day thing of like oh no now I have to deal with this person being horny for me and blah blah blah.
I want that phone call from a few nights a go to be a sign of more. Not a final flicker. Ugh.
I have been on a for class all day for my job and I cannot stop thinking about her. About how I guess throughout our relationship I've always protected her. And I think about how I could protect her more with this class. And I think of the first aid class we took together.
I can't help but wonder what she does now. If she lied about her battery dying that one time. I just want to know. Not to guilt her or punish her. Just to know. I always want to know. Always.
I miss her dysfunction. I miss her affection. I miss having something stable in my life.
When I had a place to stay and she wasn't sure where she was going next I said that maybe we could have a scheduled night or two every week. I wish she saw us as a support system for each other. Together. Not against. That our disorders are challenges to be overcome.
I don't like trading dirty stuff with this other person much. Like I appreciate the visuals. But I don't like engaging with other people that way, to that extent.
My coworkers in this class are borderline retarded and I wonder how I keep ending up in places like this. Can difficulty loving oneself really make so many doors close?