I’m suffering from a case of depression house… this place is a mess, between working long hours and using all the extra time to scroll Hinge, lay around, and watch TV (a habit that I’ve always loathed but here we go). I am depressed over the boy, but I just don’t think I want him back.
Maybe let’s talk about it. Like really talk about it, so that I can clear it out and maybe get on to something else.
And that’s the problem, it’s not important, he’s not important.
Last night, I dreamed of maybe my favorite client.
It was a white girl. Not just any white girl, but I believe a girl that I saw at the bar the other night, the daughter of one of the owners, or someone that looked like her. Very thin, pale, big eyes and dark hair. She’s pretty, but young in a way that I only notice now that I’m not.
My favorite client, myself and the girl were lying in bed, in a hotel far away from everything, way up north, which I believe I may have dreamed of before. The room was sparse but serviceable. The sheets were thin, white and plain as well.
I’m not sure specifically, but my client was asking for something from the girl, who apologetically said no. Actually, I think she was saying that she wasn’t up for the session today. My client was understandably frustrated, he had come a very long way, and I believe that he had picked her up from somewhere else and brought her there, and I believe it took up his available time to do so. I could hear the edge in his voice, but he didn’t raise it, and accepted the situation. She got up to go to the shower, and not knowing what to do, I got up too. Apparently we were all leaving.
I stood up, leaving him laying on the bed, his beautiful brows creased as though1 he was grappling with how to handle the situation.
Even though I didn’t have to, and to be honest didn’t really want to, I went back to the bed and volunteered to give him something… he enthusiastically accepted, in his usual cheery way, and when he rolled over, he had the boys flaccid, white dick2.1. I see that I’m stating the perspective of others in much looser terms. More tentative. More analogy. It probably should be that way as I would not know, but it’s my dram after all. The concept of dreaming of other people’s faces and emotion is fascinating to me, since I know that underneath it all it’s only my emotion, and my mind. It’s truly only me. 2. For some reason I feel compelled to explain that the boy’s dick is shorter, but thicker, and the head is much rounder and more pillowy, than this client.
I should really call that client, he’s been trying to schedule for months now. I should really call my ex once removed (I like that idea) to let him know what’s going on in my town, and see how he’s handling the hurricane. And maybe he’d be down to fuck, but I don’t really want to reenter that relationship because it took way to much time. As a matter of fact I’m going to wait until things calm down a bit at work.
It sucks, my whole summer is gone. Again. I think I want to move to someplace where there is no winter.
I don’t want the boy back. There’s an electricity that comes from him that is almost palpable at all times, but somewhere along the line it became unpleasant most of the time. He’s got such incredibly negative energy, at least when he’s around me. Maybe it’s me… but honestly, thinking long and hard (and I’m such a bitch), He’s definitely the asshole here. Even if I were to relent and assume that his intentions were as good as they could possibly be, something still doesn’t add up. He’s just not my dude, not right now.
I did feel some reward from knowing him. Maybe he’ll get his shit together someday, but then he’ll probably go on to someone else. I feel fine with that except I see the he fundamentally missed the point of where he screwed up here, and I don’t want to put the time into explaining to someone what they can’t understand.
I do miss having someone to talk to, as unsatisfying as he was in that regard. Nothing’s hitting on Hinge, right now I want friends not more lovers. I have to get back to work, and I think relationships are taking too much time. Right now, anyway. But I need some channel so I don’t accidentally sleep with my boss… the guy who I hope will be my boss soon anyway. I don’t know.
I got up and walked around. I wonder what the boy’s last exes feel like. I want to go on facebook and find his hot friend, the one I have been into the whole time, not the one that he kept thinking I wanted to sleep with. I think his friend knows that I’m into that other friend, and just figures yeah if she’s down with fucking his friends, then hey. I mean it’s honestly a reasonable train of thought but no. I also have to do many more things. Like this meeting that may start any minute.
I keep clicking away, I keep losing my point. There’s still coffee and it’s just this side of warm.
I don’t know what the point of thinking of the boy was supposed to be. I guess it’s that I’m depressed about it? <=== the question mark makes me realize that I should text one particular friend and ask her when her birthday is for starters.
Maybe that’s the point. I’m depressed about it. He took up a lot of space in my life, and without him, things are saggy. The support beams are rotted, and I have to go around and replace some things. Reach out to all the friends that I’ve been ignoring to make sure that I’m directing my attention to him (he’d get pissy if I looked way for too long, even though he was just bitching about work and other people who I did not know anyway), go to the gym finally maybe or at least do the physical activity that he never wanted to do the progressively fatter fuck that he is, eat my own food which is far superior to the repetitive pizza place that he lives off of, revamp my professional life so that I can get fucked well and on a regular basis by men who will have a drink ready for me when I arrive and know when to use lube.
As shallow as he is, he did bring my attention back to a reality that I see is important. I mean who’s going to install the rest of my shelves.
My side dude was over this weekend, he says he’s going to break up with his white bitch too.