dating, life, marriage, men, women

Crashed Souls

I was in a couple of long-term relationships and in both cases believed that it was done thing. For life. Phew. No more lengthy dates, going on and on about the same shit trying to impress when actually all I wanted to do was to be in my bed, pigging out, farting away (that too) whilst watching crap on Netflix.

I did believe it was to last for life until the moment when I got lost. I felt more lonely and sorry for myself in my last relationship than a single person. I didn’t know myself anymore. I forgot what I liked, what made me excited, upset, happy and literally ended up functioning like some emotionless zombie. Apparently I was very good at bringing the worst out of my other half, which was hard to hear without wanting to punch his face in. Still kinda want to do that to this day (“hmm, is that a bitterness I can hear in you?” – brilliantly “intuitive” councilor asks me). Bringing the worst out of each other is most definitely not a life lasting personality nor compatibility mix no matter how much you love that person. Loving and destroying one another at the same time is a pretty heartbreaking affair that you need to get out of as soon as possible.

Five single years have passed now and I find myself so upset for my close friend who’s pretty colorful marriage has been slowly but fatally crashing down. When I listen to more and more of her home truths, all I can hear is echoing of my own voice¬† all those years ago.

Where’s my feisty friend gone? Strong mother of two who’s never taken NO for an answer? What’s happened to my partner in crime, with whom having endless coffees and stupid chats was once a bliss! I am baffled and so so sad. The longer her soul is being crashed, the more time it will take to refill it with love, peace and strength again. I am here for her as long as it takes but unless she’s ready to accept that this can’t go on like this, the clock for new beginning won’t start ticking. I know because my soul is still deeply scarred and as a result of that, I have shut off myself¬†from any ideas of getting closer to anyone. Simply put, I cannot be bothered, as bad as it sounds, and I don’t even know how to start opening up again as my self-defence wall is pretty strong to break at this moment in time. But I know it will happen some day, and if not, that’s fine too.

Maybe if we really stay true to ourselves every step of the way in every aspect of our journeys, life can truly be a beautiful thing to be grateful for.

I hope that my friends and family will continue to fill their souls with happiness, peace and love for one another. And maybe, I can contribute to that too…


dating, life, men, sex

Jimmy-hat, Rubber Johnnies or Cock Socks…long forgotten

I must be living on a different planet. Like “the planet earth II” or something.

Here’s the thing. I met a dude, at my local gym, I know, right?! Skipping forward slightly, I’m less keen to show my face there again, which will only mean that all my chances of achieving peachy buttocks will NOT happen now. Bums are for sitting, not for squatting some might say – valid point.

This guy is almost a decade younger, totally laid back and pretty confident. I’m quite an outspoken and social person but I actually find online sexting not that exciting. I grew up in 80s for god sake; no mobile phones and everyone knew that if they wanted to meet someone they had to go out to look for that someone. What you see is what you get sort of thing. And it did work.

Now, in my mid-thirties and four years of being single (not far from living like a nun, shit! that’s bad) I find myself in this ridiculous situation. Firstly, this guy is too young, swears too much, can’t keep a decent conversation going, yet I giggle like a stupid teenager when around him. I even put some mascara on the other day when going for a work out…hello??!

Moving forward, we kissed in a car, which I used to do like twenty years ago. Then we had some dinner together, which we ended up splitting (OK, that’s kinda ok since women are screaming from top of their lungs how independent they are, not needing a guy to look after them – shame on you feminists, could’ve saved a bit of cash there. Joke.

Back at my flat I kept on saying that I couldn’t have sex without a cock hat. That bold statement was lost in the air the minute I saw his giant stick. It was like when someone puts your favourite chocolate or a cake in front of you knowing that sooner or later you’ll lose all your will to resist … you are just left with that crazy feeling of utter mouth-watering satisfaction afterwards.

I couldn’t stop thinking about this twat since then so a couple of days later I had another, this time morning bedroom workout, which helped to get rid of my hangover from the night before. No sign of a cock hat again.

Then it hit me. He’d never used condoms and would never carry any round. I should get some if that was so important. He could’ve slept with half of the city, stupid girl! Very reluctantly and brainfogged (as I still wanted more sex) I messaged that we’d either get condoms or we go our separate ways. He had no issues to bluntly say that I went all MUM on him and separate ways might be better! WTF?!

My vague and maybe totally incorrect theory is that such boys spend most their free time jerking off whilst watching a hard core porn, thinking that women are just happy to be shagged with no form of any protection neither any kind of a foreplay or sensual build up whatsoever. More ridiculously, these young guys are not even caring about their health and risks they put themselves and others into.

I’ll just have to stick to my values and self-respect rather than dealing with a toyboy cock who doesn’t care where’s he’s sticking it into. It’s time to get my pink rabbit dusted off!