Archives for posts with tag: love

How do you keep the love going? I don't know

Question posed: I got the girl, now how do I maintain the relationship?

That’s about as difficult to answer as, “What is she thinking?”

Answer, in short: I have no fuckin’ clue.

I’ve failed enough relationships to last a lifetime. I’m probably the last guy to ask. I do, however, know what not to do. That’ll take way too long to list though, and probably not what you’re looking for.

The best advice I could give you is, don’t do anything she wouldn’t want you to do and do the things she likes. That varies, of course. It’s your job to find those things out. That, in itself, helps to maintain the relationship.

An incredibly successful man, both in business and in life, once told me, “Be the man she wants.” It made sense at the time. Still does, in fact. But that breeds another question; what does she want? Most of the girls I know have no clue what they want. When they do, it changes the next week.

As frustrating as that can be, it’s what you have to do. The good thing is, if you pay good enough attention it’ll be easy.
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Sometimes it amazes me how the smallest things can make the biggest impact.

I get one text and my world completely shifts. Just one sentence and my whole perspective on things is different. A text. That’s not supposed to happen. Not to me.

A part of me thought I was dreaming when I read it. See, I was at a party sharing a good time with my favorite people when it happened. Out of the blue is an understatement. I may as well have been completely alone in my own universe as I read it.

It took three times reading it to realize what she wrote was real. If anybody had been paying attention they would’ve seen the biggest, dumbest smile to ever cross my face.

I won’t share what was said. I’m scared of what it means. I could quite easily fall in love with this chick and that scares the hell out of me.

Being aware of how she effects me was a huge factor in the reason I haven’t told anybody about her and, of course, the text she sent on Saturday. I’m afraid if I told someone it’ll become real. That makes absolutely no sense, I know. And if it is true, I’m screwed by this post.

What’s even more fucked up is that I’m scared more of having a relationship with her and it ending badly than I am of asking her to have that relationship. What was once optimism has now turned into pessimism.

My initial instinct was to stop talking to her and just push her away. That’s easy. I can do that. I have plenty of practice doing that. Having friends not know about her makes it that much easier. So why haven’t I done that yet? I have no idea. I want to. No. I really don’t.

Maybe the hole that was dug out of my heart from years ago is slowly repairing itself. Maybe she’s helping fill the void. Maybe I actually like the feeling of this. Maybe I’m curious to see where it’ll go. Maybes are all I have right now.

I do know this though. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it. Things are going very well right now so why change them. I don’t think I will. Yet.


I know I’m jaded. I know why too. She broke my heart and I try desperately to not let it happen again. I shut people out. I don’t let another one of “her” in.

It’s been a while since it happened but it left its scar as a reminder whenever I find a girl I like. This ugly, invisible scar. There’s no cream for it. No vitamin E oil I can rub on it. No one sees it but me. But everyone experiences it in some way.

Luckily, I’m fond of being alone. I enjoy my own space. Don’t get me wrong. I love people, for the most part. Well, OK, I love my friends. The rest of the people can fuck off. I exaggerate a lot.

I stopped thinking about her on a daily basis. That’s a relief in itself. Now, trying to completely move on while having this scar as a constant reminder is my new struggle. I’ll win. I always do. But how many girls will I burn in the meantime? Plenty of them have come and gone already. Some I know were special. The scar grows. The more I curse at it.

Don’t confuse this as depression. You’d be an idiot if you did. My life is actually amazing. If you knew me, you’d want my life. I don’t exaggerate about this. Ignorance is not bliss. Arrogance is.

The scar is getting smaller.  Slowly. I don’t worry about how long it’s taking anymore. It’s only a matter of time before it’s completely gone.

It’s only a matter of time until the next special one comes her way.


I have a problem. Not anything too serious, but a problem nonetheless. Finding a girl worth getting serious with is a hard task. An even harder task is maintaining that affection for her.

The rarity of finding one of these girls causes me to fall for them faster than I’d like. Thankfully, I have enough self-control to not share those feelings until the time is right, if ever. The issue I have though, is as quickly as I fall for these girls the feelings subside.

For whatever reason I hold these girls to a higher standard and if they don’t consistently meet it, the feelings stop. Shallow? No. It’s not like that at all. OK, maybe it is, but it’s not meant to be. It’s a defense mechanism.We’ve all been hurt and I’m no exception. This is how I prevent the hurt from happening again. But, as much as I love being single I’d like to have a stable relationship sometime in the future.

On the other hand, I’m not sure if I care enough whether or not I have a girlfriend. What’s the point? Seriously. What is the point…  Love? Overrated. Companionship? I have plenty of friends. Someone to talk to? Again, I have friends for that. Don’t even say sex. I have friends for that too.

If you haven’t figured it out I’m jaded. But, I know the sun comes up tomorrow and am still somewhat optimistic about my future.

I’ll just chalk this rant up to a long weekend. And dumb fuckin’ bitches.


As the weeks went by, hand jobs at school became a regular occurrence. Being that I had never masturbated, which meant I never experienced the joy of cumming, I was as happy as a clam. But, the natural progression of sex had something in store for me.

On a sunny afternoon in an empty room, hiding in one of the closets, Jamie started the drill of unbuttoning my pants, pulling them down and exposing my erection. This was all normal yet still fun each time but then, instead of simply jerking me off, she put her lips around the head and started using her tongue. Why didn’t I know about this sooner!? This was quite possibly the best experience I’ve had up to that point. The warmth of her mouth, the wetness, her tits, there wasn’t anything better. Or so I thought, but that’s a different story.

The feeling was so amazing I felt my legs begin to weaken. I didn’t know what was going on until I realized I hadn’t been breathing. Breathing now, and wanting to take full advantage of the situation, I removed her tight shirt and bra, revealing her breasts as she continued to suck. Leaning back, taking in this incredible view, I recorded every moment so as not to forget. If Heaven were a place on Earth, it would’ve been in that closet on that day.

The story would’ve been perfect, but as luck had it, a random kid roaming around nearly caught us in the act. Ripping through the silent ecstasy was the loud screeching of the rusty door knob to the empty room. Before I realized what was going on my pants were back on, her top covering her breasts; ending the best experience a middle schooler could ever ask for. Read the rest of this entry »

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