another old one...musings on a past life/relationship


Maybe it is fucked up....I sit here drinking my 14th beer listening to the Pixies and trying to ignore my boyfriend, naked and masturbating on the bed.... Every asthmatic grunt driving me further into denial....should I feel sad that I’d rather drink than fuck my lover? Is it a sign of how in love I am with my liquor or a sign of how little I am with him? Yes, I love his cock and I love him..but I don’t think that I’m really in love with either....and maybe I haven’t been....in a long....long...time...Routine is heroin to the confused, and sadly I may be nodding off on what I have become accustomed to. I pray for him to cum, so that I can feel free to go on with what I actually want to do and can quit pretending to be oblivious...I know he knows and I feel like a bastard, but at the same time, all I am denying him is a fucking blow job. He has denied me my self. He claims to love me and be attracted to me for what I really am, but all he seems to really give a shit about is himself and his own interests. “Oh wow, baby, you started writing again finally? That is great, but have I shown you my latest piece? Did I tell you how fucked up work was today? Did I tell you about this debate I got into in class? Have I told you that I rarely fucking understand much of what you say, talk about, think about, or care about???? And more importantly, I don’t give a shit?” Yeah, so maybe he doesn’t say that last part, but he may as well scream it, when he cuts me off in mid sentence about defeating my writers block or my latest mix cd to discuss, or even better, to soapbox about the trivialities of his day for the 245th time. I just nod and retreat into my mind, my music, my liquor...cuz the pills aren’t working any more....and I’m not sure that they ever did....he might stop and tell me that MAYBE I drink too much...and I think it isn’t enough...he might talk about how fucking hot the guy was that supposedly wanted down my pants that actually seemed interested in ME....cuz trivializing it makes it more acceptable...cuz I might be cool to talk to...hang out with...drink with....but mostly I give great head and I’m a great lay...and if one has to “pretend” to listen to Joy Division, or read Steinbeck, or love Asian film, it’s well worth it for that look on my face as the cum flies...