Fuck, Love. – Humpday Post
Sometimes I wonder if God was a disgruntled ex of mine in another life, because I swear he did a number when he created me. I can only imagine the amusement on his face that fine day in September when he thought, “Oh I know, let’s create a hopeless romantic … with an insatiable libido“.
NOW HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT?
I’ll tell you how fucked up it is. It’s so fucked up that I can’t even masturbate unless I’m envisioning someone in particular that I know in “real life” (would it have killed someone to give me the ability to masturbate to Brad Pitt though?). And so fucked up that I can’t even masturbate unless I’m envisioning someone in particular that I know in “real life” that I’m actually attracted to (would it have killed someone to give me the ability to masturbate to the hot FedEx guy though?).
Yes, there is a difference. There are ridiculously handsome men that just don’t strike me as sexual. Yet there’s some men that are a little rough around the edges that I wouldn’t mind getting rough with me. Safe to say if I can’t double click my mouse to you, you’re staying in the friend zone. And if I’m in like/love with you, then the sex with you (as well as myself) will be even better.
But the absolute most fucked up part of all is how I’m unable to masturbate thinking about you if our relationship is strained. If I’m sad over you or we’re having problems, I could be rubbing down there until a goddamn fire starts and still not be able to get off. One time I masturbated so long to no avail that I fell asleep with my hand down my pants, and was late to work the next morning. So YES, I’m mad that my heart lives inside my vagina.
Alas, there are worse things in life. But let’s just say it’s been really hard for me to masturbate lately. However, I am learning to check my love for sex with my lust for lust, and forgive myself for the mistakes I’ve made. Too bad make up sex with yourself just isn’t the same.