January 19, 2015 § 6 Comments
WARNING: content may make readers want to vomit profusely
The day is here, folks. It’s been a hell of a ride (pun absolutely intended) and extraordinary fun… but I have to admit I’m more excited for what’s coming.
It’s been a few weeks, and it’s almost impossible to sum up the absolute ecstasy that’s occurred. After Skyping like mad whilst separated, Klaus and I finally managed to see each other in London, technically our first date and fuck… if all first dates were like that I’d never settle down, ever. But I think the reason it was so perfect is because I know that is coming, and weirdly it doesn’t scare me (much…).
We couldn’t keep our hands off each other the entire day. I’m not usually one for PDA, though I’ve recently had the mind-blowing epiphany that that’s probably only when I wasn’t a part of it. Funnily enough it’s not so repulsive when you’re on the receiving end of the affection. And yes I do realise I’ve become the couple I hate. It’s just a shame I’m absolutely loving it (ffs).
I used to pride myself on not wanting to be in a relationship, on being independent and not needing to rely on men (all dem single ladies). But now I wonder if that was simply my fear of rejection. Yeah I don’t need no man, cos then it doesn’t matter whether or not they want me. It’s all very well asserting your independence, but the thing is I don’t feel like I’ve lost any. If anything, Klaus makes me a better person. In fact he definitely does. Making all sorts of emotional breakthroughs, me. I haven’t drunk since being back in Bristol. Maybe cos I’m drunk in loooooooove (Yeah it’s fine, I hate me too).
It’s incredibly annoying and absolutely fantastic. I’m so ridiculously happy. And Klaus, if you’re reading this, thank you. I don’t need to tell you how bloody great you are. Here’s to an exciting start to whatever the hell comes next. I don’t really care as long as you’re involved.
*I won’t say it’s gone forever, but for now there will be no more sexual exploits outside of Klaus. For that reason I can’t say when the next post will be, if there ever will be one. I’m eternally grateful to all my loyal and fantastic followers. I’ve loved having this blog and reading everyone else’s experiences has made me feel less alone. I’m so appreciative of all of you, especially those of you who’ve made it through this particularly sickening post. Y’all can always send me a message for anything. Sending all my randy love.
December 29, 2014 § Leave a comment
So having said we would take things slow, Klaus and I have spent the majority of our final week of the semester in his bed together.
It’s such perfection. Really intimate and romantic, like everything you want in a guy, in a relationship. Maybe I’m bigging it up too much, seeing things through rose tinted glasses, still in the honeymoon phase. That’s all probably true, but I don’t really care. He makes me so happy and I’m going to soak up every last little annoyingly wonderful moment of it. So fucking happy.
It almost feels wrong blogging about it. It’s weird.
I desperately hope this is the beginning of something. It really feels like it. But then part of me keeps worrying that I’m jumping in the deep end far too quickly. I’m usually so good at keeping my distance, being the one less involved. But I so don’t want to do that anymore.
Then there’s the question of Frank.
I’ve been avoiding it, but I knew it’d catch up to me at some point. I need to see him, and I really wanted to talk to him about everything in person. I always kind of assumed we’d have ‘one last time’, but that went out the window when Klaus told me that, although he didn’t want to put any pressure on us with exclusivity, it would upset him if I got with anybody else. That’s fair. And it made me realise that I don’t really want to.
So when Frank started sexting me I ignored it at first, but then he talked about seeing me, about coming all the way to London from Manchester just for me. I didn’t really want him to do that for me just to tell him I’m seeing someone and could no longer sleep with him. The easiest thing I could think to say was:
“yeah I’d love to see you, I actually need to talk to you about some stuff, but you don’t need to come all the way down from Manchester for it”
As subtle as I’d tried to be, I think he realised exactly what that meant, concluding our conversation curtly by explaining he’d let me know if he was in the area, but wouldn’t bother me with any more ‘booty calls’.
This made my heart sink a little. Frank was always more to me than a booty call, and although the sex was fantastic, it was never my sole reason for seeing him. I feel as though all our wonderful months together have been condensed down into this superficial thing, that I’m now responsible for rejecting. I know that I’m making the right decision, but he is still so important to me, and I hate to think that by my no longer sleeping with him I won’t really get to see him anymore. It seems such an anticlimactic conclusion to all these months. I need to talk to him properly, I’ve just no idea when that will be.
For the moment, Klaus is providing a perfect distraction, but I don’t want to throw all these memories away. All this emotion, all this drama, it’s so much effort. I liked it when I was fucking boys I didn’t like. Life was far simpler.
March 31, 2014 § 5 Comments
This is a very serious question. I’m pretty sure that, without fail, every single time I’ve slept with a guy, the next time I’ve seen him has been awkward.
Sometimes this embarrassment is only fleeting (usually when more sex is involved), but I really don’t know how to behave around them afterwards. It doesn’t generally prevent things from developing, but I feel as though a firm decision has to be made at that point: are we gonna become an item? Or is this a casual fling?
I think the answer to that question always scares me a little. Part of me fears the rejection, and the other part of me fears the commitment. Because of this I tend to act very disinterested afterward, whether I am or not (mostly not), because I’m terrified that I’ll scare them away, or end up trapped in a relationship I don’t want to be in. I’d love to believe that sex can be kept entirely separated from commitments and relationships, but I fear this is not the case.
Also there’s a certain vulnerability that emerges after you’ve slept with a guy. I hate the idea that women have to use sex as a weapon or power play, but I really do feel as though I’ve been stripped of power afterward. I once read that women control the sex, men control the commitment, and I think that’s unfortunately true. Just a shame I can’t control my half of the deal long enough to warrant their half.
March 18, 2014 § 6 Comments
I’m fucking bored of men doing this. Are they trying to play hard to get? Do they think it’s sexy, their lack of availability making me want them in some way? Maybe that worked at one point, but after X number of blokes pulling the exact same stunt, it gets old.
So my love life has been paling recently, thanks to one guy in particular. Don’t you just love it when they keep you on the line for so long? A false hope here, a ‘genuine’ compliment there, just to keep you on your toes. Well, I’m bored.
I try to be optimistic, I really do. But there’s a fine line between optimism and naivety. There’s a part of me that always wants to think ‘I’m sure he is just really busy, he’ll get round to seeing me eventually’, and then there’s another part thinking ‘fuck him. If he can’t find 5 minutes to reply to my text or at least show some vague interest then why the fuck should I bother?’
The problem with the latter, which I’m sure many women would advise to favour (have some self respect, right?), is that it’s extremely detrimental to my sex life. Ah, such dilemma.
So what’s a gal to do? Do you suck it up, and just put up with these fuckmonkeys, doing your best to keep emotionally distant and never expecting any sort of commitment, or do you hold your head high, keep telling yourself ‘a decent guy will come along eventually’ and allow your vagina to fuse shut?
If anyone has the answer to this little conundrum I’d love to know. There’s also the chance that in ‘holding out’ for Mr Right (or just anyone shows a little consistency, I’m not really fussy) that you’re missing some great fun to be had. I mean, I’m 19 for goodness sake, why on Earth should it matter if there’s any commitment involved? I’m certainly not looking to settle down anytime soon. But then also, I don’t want to allow myself to be emotionally/physically taken advantage of. Hmm.
Any of you got some advice on this one?
February 5, 2014 § 14 Comments
There is a situation with the Irishman, in that he is very laid back in terms of contacting me, so I’m having to tie myself to various objects around the house to prevent myself from sending a flurry of desperate-sounding texts. And, of course, the longer he waits, the harder it becomes!
As one of my friend’s puts it: “I hate these games, but they are often necessary”. As much as we hate to admit it, the hard-to-get tactic really works. But more often than not, if you’re in a situation where there’s need to play it, you’re probably pretty into the person. Wouldn’t life just be far simpler if we could let out the horrifically insecure, needy part of us that wants to contact our new interest at all hours of the day? Unfortunately we don’t want to round up the villagers wielding their fiery weapons of crazy to throw in his/her general direction just yet. We need to hook them in far enough, allow them to start really caring for you… and only then start to unleash the insanity. The ultimate goal, is it not? Get someone in so deep they’ve no choice but to live with your psychotic ass. Ah, the dream.
In order to achieve this difficult task of becoming unattainable, and therefore desirable, to the object of your affection, I’ve come up with a few key rules to stick to (and thus hide your yearning to bear their children):
- Always wait the same time or longer (preferably the latter) to text them back. If they took 5 minutes, take 10. If they took 3 hours, take 4. And if they take 6 days? Wait a fucking fortnight. There’s really no limit to how far you can push it.
- If they call, don’t pick up. Call them back at least half an hour later, or send them a text with a very vague explanation; ‘Oh sorry I missed you, I was busy earlier’. We ultimately want them thinking that you’ve got your legs wrapped around someone’s face.
- If they ask you out, sound reluctant, or accept extremely nonchalantly. ‘Oh Thursday? Umm, possibly, I’ll have to get back you’ or ‘Yeah ok, but can we make it 8? I’ve got some plans before then’ etc.
- If your texting/calls turn into lengthy conversations, add a little spice. Nothing gets a man interested like sex, but make it SUBTLE. Perhaps one of your excuses for not answering the phone was that you were in the bath? BOOM they’re thinking about you naked.
- This is probably the most important rule. Don’t let them lost interest! YES, be difficult to attain, but NOT impossible. If they think that you’re not interested at all, they will soon give up. So keep throwing in various understated suggestions that you’re into them amid the stream of rejection, to give them a sense of hope. If you like them a lot this will probably happen automatically (let’s be honest, there’s only so much sheer desperation we can hold back, right?), but if you think they might be giving up, just add something along the lines of ‘was so lovely to meet you the other night’, allowing them think there is a fighting chance, and their efforts may well be rewarded.
If you do all of this, and they still aren’t sounding interested? Bite the bullet and ask them out. The worst that could happen is they’ll say no, in which case you DO NOT CONTACT THEM. Even if they contact you after that, they have established that they’re not up for romantic involvement so fuck them. They want you? Better bloody ask you out then hadn’t they.
January 15, 2014 § Leave a comment
Buongiorno! I like to believe my first week here gives me the authority to throw random Italian words into my blog posts, so many apologies in advance (please don’t all unfollow me at once..)
So what has my initial experience with Italian men taught me? Firstly, the males of mainland Europe are much less timid than our boys back home. I suppose the word that springs to mind is aggressive, although I imagine that’s only due to my being used to the nervous politeness of English men. They’re much more see-it-take-it kinda guys. If the Italian sees a girl he likes, he’ll immediately let her know. There’s none of this beating about the bush, will-they-won’t-they culture, which is quite a pleasant change in a way, though certainly takes some getting used to!
I haven’t accepted any offers yet, partly because I’ve been so taken aback when a strange italian loudly proclaims how ‘bella’ you are in a crowded street in broad daylight, followed by kissing you on each cheek then insisting he takes you for coffee. However my declines have also been due to the blindingly obvious realisation that I’d really like something more than a one night stand. They’re fun and all, but I never feel like I really get anything out of them except a hangover and a reputation. Neither of which I really mind, but also not things I go in search of.
The eternal hope is that my arrival in Rome greets me with a flock of beautiful foreign men at my disposal, each keener than the last to buy me extravagant meals and jewellery until the end of time. I don’t think it’s an unrealistic proposal?
December 13, 2013 § Leave a comment
What an ugly habit we women have, of condemning those who choose to have sex.
I told a friend of mine the other day that I was going on a date with an older man, and the first thing she said to me was “don’t have sex with him”, and I confirmed that I wouldn’t. Of course I wouldn’t, I don’t just give this stuff out, right? But… why shouldn’t I? Girls have such prejudice towards those who have sex freely and regularly, or with multiple different partners. We look down on this – but why? If a woman should feel comfortable with another person, enjoys sex and chooses to, who are we to say that’s not allowed?
I used to try very hard to restrain myself with men. I’d want to sleep with them, but wouldn’t, because I wanted to keep my dignity, or make them wait, or stop myself being taken advantage of. It could be one of any number of excuses I’d come up with. However I’ve been examining these reasons more recently, only to discover they’re all fuelled by what other people think of me. I’ve never regretted any of the sex I’ve had, regardless of whether it was within the context of a relationship, I’d know the person a long time or even known much about them. I’m aware enough of my feelings to know whether it’s something I want or not. So what if it’s the day I’ve met them, or if it’s our second date, or if I know it won’t develop into a relationship? If I’ve enjoyed it and don’t regret it, who is anyone else to tell me what sex I am or not allowed to have?
Sex does not make you a slut. Just as it doesn’t with men. People have sex for all different reasons, ranging from an expression of emotional intimacy to an exercise in stress release. It is no one’s business why you are doing it, as long as you are happy and making your own decisions.
Women should be allowed to have as much or as little sex as they want without being labelled as ‘frigid’ or ‘slutty’. It seems there is no middle ground for us. If you think about it, there is probably a time you have judged someone for their sex life – I know I have. But it’s nobody else’s concern except your own, and the sooner everyone realises this, the sooner we can all make decisions based on what we want, rather than how we want to come across.