It was fun, but don’t call…this may seem weird and strange as most woman have tendencies of over attaching themselves after sex (or so I’ve heard) but I don’t.
I want to tell you, you were good…for the night. And no I don’t believe I care about your dreams or ambitions, your bank accounts or social circle, I’m not even sure I recall your name. As cruel as it may sound I don’t care for you at all. Just thank you for what I needed last night, sex with a stranger- a faceless man who I wouldn’t need to worry about the next day but in the moment was fully focused on pleasing him as he was me.
In case you were wondering, I am not pregnant nor did I leave anything of value at your place in hope of visiting again.
I gave you my number before it had happened and although it is sweet your messages throughout the weeks have been unnecessary, I’m alright, I’m ok and thank you once again.
You didn’t expect it I see… a detached human being caught up in the moment of lust and maybe that’s why you are intrigued, I’ve hardly heard of one night stands being invited out for dinner on several occasions (although I do reject them all). We won’t do dinner, I don’t care for the activity much anyway.
So thank you mister one night, but remain there as you will; an itch I needed scratched, much love and don’t contact me again.
Dating dilemmas of a fashionista
Having been in a relationship for 4 years with a man who had spent more time at my place than he did his own, certain habits were picked up, that, once broken up, i found kind of hard to shake.
Last night was the first time I managed to shake off one of these habits. Trivial in nature, but it somehow broke some chain within my spirit that kept me held to a former flame. What habit you may ask? Which side of the bed I slept on.
Having spent years getting cosy and comfortable with the right hand side of the bed, to the point where I’m sure my mattress took the shape of my body, I decided to try something new; I slept in the middle of my big bed…by myself.
Now I’m aware that I am slightly strange and my ‘quirks’ (as my kind friends have aptly named my little habits) are of a peculiar nature but, this small action meant so much to me. In a way I felt that if I could break the habits that the relationship had created (you will find, I’m a rather restless soul who does not cope well with habits within the realms of relationships) I could move on. reclaimed the space in which he lay, my space, and got rid of the habitual nature that had become our relationship.
Finally, I was ready to invite a new person into bed without feeling like the old one was still there .
And then… I bought a new bed.
P.S. Best I start off fresh again
There are those men, my word, that are just perfect.
You meet them in a club/pub/restaurant/get together/whatever and you just have such good chemistry that it seems the night should never end and when it does…he asks for your number *insert insanely happy girly dance here (behind his back, of course)*.
Then it gets better, he texts. Even over the phone he has you actually laughing and not just LOLing (with a straight face), and all at once…it stops. That’s it. You never hear from him again. And if you do cave in and message him first (I have a no messaging first policy, but hey shit happens) he is as excited as a lamp post with no light… I name him the one hit wonder.
Guys? Seriously! What is that about?
I’ve entered the land of the ever more confused. As if this dating business wasn’t confusing enough already.