Mistake

7 05 2014

You drove home
One more drink?
We talk theology
Passion rises as we kill our god
Minds expand as the night wanes
Falling into one another
I go to kiss you on your cheek
Your head turns
Ecstasy began
It was a dream so good
Better than it’d been in a long time

The sharp morning light
Cuts into my head
But your shadow
Still laid inside me
I open my eyes to kiss my husband

But you were there instead.

 





After

7 04 2014

Heavy with pleasure
I fall transfixed
Melting into the billowing pillows.

Your scent lingers over me.

 

 

 

I wrote this after having sex with my boyfriend.





Stuck on Repeat

24 08 2011

I don’t hate men. I really don’t. I don’t hate my friends that are men. I love them. I love my father, my grandfather. Cousins. Uncles. Professors. Mentors.

But I have the one man that I do hate…is stuck in my head.

Any time I see some stupid facial expression that resembles one that he used to give me. Or some stupid impossible situation happens, I expect to be blamed. And its not that I intentionally put some huge wall up. But then once I see my ex’s face, that’s all I see.

I have such a long way to go.

I have to find a counselor up here.

Tomorrow.

And you know I also realized something else. I’m sooo not poly. I’m just a commitment phobe. Because really, in actuality I’m more okay with some one telling me straight up being up front about being poly amorous and wanting to be with multiple people, and me knowing where I stand with them. Just them. Than I am trying to even fathom getting to know and potentially trust, multiple people at once.

Fuck that.

There’s no way that’s happening. I’m more okay with telling strangers what happened to me than trying to actually have a romantic relationship with some one. Because the strangers just walk away. Like some strange living recording device that I never have to see again.

And for a while I forget what ever it was that I said to them.

I think for whatever reason there is still something in my head that says, ” You know what the sure sign of being okay is? Being in a relationship”

Which isn’t the case. It wasn’t the case when I was dating my ex, it wasn’t the case when I was married to my ex, and it certainly wasn’t and isn’t the case after divorcing my ex.

I feel like I haven’t really been single. I haven’t told myself, “I’m not seeing any one right now.”

I haven’t said to myself….”You really shouldn’t be having sex right now.”

I mean I have, but usually only after a terrible one night stand.

I really… really, need to give myself some time to heal. Just, that’s it.

I need to chill the fuck out and cool it with the sex for a minuet.

I’m going to need a new vibrator.





Reject much?

15 08 2011

One of the emotions or feelings that I can’t seem to shake is how rejected I feel. How unwanted I feel. I realize that it was good that I got divorced. That, that relationship wasn’t something that needed to continue. And I also understand that I was the one that really called for the divorce, so to speak. But I keep feeling like if he hadn’t not wanted me to be who I am then things could have worked out.

Of course I know this is a complete lie. I do.

But I think if there wasn’t such a reoccurring pattern in my life of me getting more attached to some one than they were to me….well, then I might be able to shake it.

I thought that I might be polyamorous. And I think I am still. But am I not allowed to have my favorites? My preferences?

The other thing I can’t seem to get outside of my head is the stupid Christian bullshit that I was fed at as a youth. I was taught that I would lose all of my allure as soon as I gave it up.

It would be like how Amon felt about Tamar after he raped her.

I’m usually the one that makes the first move. I need some one to make the first move.

No you know what I really need? I need a person who wants to fuck me more than once. A person who sees me stark naked, in carnal glory, watches me cum, makes me cum, and wants more. Not a person who sees all this, and walks away with out looking back.

Preferably more than one. To verify my polyamorous desires.





Promiscuous

21 06 2011

“Becoming more promiscuous after a sexual assault is just as common as becoming frigid or undesired of being touched.”

For me it was split. If a guy touched me first I would often freak out inside, sometimes I still do. But more it was like I was on a hunt. A hunt for any cock that could make my insides not feel of him. Months after being apart I still felt him inside me. Any shape would do, because at least it wasn’t his. It didn’t matter who it was, I didn’t see a face, or a name. I wasn’t fucking a person, it was just a warm body. A place holder.

I’m not proud of this. I treated them no better than a piece of meat. I’m not saying that all of these guys were perfect gentlemen, but some of them deserved much more than what I gave them. For the most part I thought it was tit for tat. I didn’t think they wanted anything really other than my body and so why should I want anything more from them? Most of them I didn’t even really want their body, I Just wanted to not feel his.

“Just don’t go out and fuck a bunch of random guys, L, you’re better than that.”

Because of those words I went on a fucking rampage. Not my brightest moment. And I’m lucky I didn’t get hurt even more, at least not for a while. But I didn’t understand what had happened between my husband and I. All I knew is I could feel him on top of me, inside of me, and it made me feel sick. Anything was better than that feeling.

And then a friend came a long. And Christmas with him. Being vegan we cooked a lot instead of going out and fucked more. He had been burned bad, and hadn’t been laid in a while, I guess I was his confidence booster. I really liked him. I liked having sex with him, and even a few times we actually made love to each other. But really that part of my humanity still needed a great amount of repair. And I still had no idea what had happened, at least not the fore front of my mind. If I had actually  lived in town I might have risked a real relationship. I’m so glad I didn’t, because I think that if he had accepted I would have treated him terribly. And he’s one of the nice ones.

I thought for sure having sex multiple times a day for a month would keep what I was merely horniness under control for at least a month or two. But a week after I got back home, I found myself drunkenly fucking a guy I could not stand.  I blew him, but I was strange because he was watching “Step Brothers” the whole time. I really don’t like that movie. It was taking a while and my jaw hurt so I told him I had a condom. He came quickly after that and got up and went to take a shower, meanwhile I felt really unsatisfied and annoyed.

I stared him in the face and asked him, ” Do you like pleasing women?”

After that I decided that I would only fuck people I that I found attractive, and people I actually liked.

Finally some sort of standards.

After the vegan I realized I really wanted a steady partner, because for the most part one night stands blow.

I told myself that I was exploring my sexuality. And its true in many ways I was. I learned something about myself and my body with every person. Unless the guy was a real jerk I was usually very polite. Even if he did loose wood. I realized for the most part I was a patient person and that after being married for two years and not having my pleasure considered I wanted it to be. I realized that some times its almost impossible for sex to be only about the P in the V. But more than anything, I realized that deep down I knew I wasn’t okay.

But I had no idea why. I thought it was the divorce. I knew that the way my ex and I had ended wasn’t right, but I didn’t think about it much. I read and reread my journal, his emails, looking for clues searching for answers of what had happened.

I think my subconscious was protecting my consciousness. Because it wasn’t until I was done with undergrad this past spring that it happened. In the most unexpected way. I had moved around a couple of times trying to really find a place to live after graduation. I was unpacking my books. I came across my Human Sexuality textbook I had gotten at a garage sale in Denton, I decided to flip through it. I stumbled upon the definition for sexual assault.  In a flash it all came back.