He’s too perfect

I got a happiness planner today in the mail from anthropology. My mom and I spent an hour and a half talking out loud to each other about what makes us “happy” and what doesn’t. We went back and forth over how to rank the adjectives to describe our strengths and weaknesses. Debating whether my emotional character should be ranked second or third on my strengths, when sometimes I think of it as a weakness.

I watched a movie called “the Big Sick” today after all the happiness shenanigans. It was about a Pakistani man that fell in love with an American girl whom his family forbid him to marry. I watched him suffer immensely as the love he felt for this woman cloud his vision of everything around him. But the happiness he felt with her was so pure, raw, chaotic even…it’s like the bliss you feel when you’re in love doesn’t compare to the natural status quo state of human existence.

I met this guy a few days ago. We’ve been texting on and off for the past month or so, but we’ve just really started to get to know each other. I definitely don’t love him. I don’t even know if he has siblings or not. But damn does he seem perfect. It’s like Nicholas sparks answered my prayers and dropped one of his drool-worthy, charming characters right in front of me. Like scary perfect. The kind of perfect that makes you analyze every character you type into the text box, re-read the text four times, add a comma here, change up the sentence syntax, kind of perfect. I’m so afraid I’m going to say the wrong thing and he’ll disappear from thin air. Here I am thinking I’m a confident, independent woman, when the recesses of my mind still hold onto a irrational fear of people walking out of my life for absolutely no apparent reason.

Yes, there’s still so much more to find out about this man, but I’m so excited for what lies ahead. He loves his family, he’s passionate about flying helicopters, he’s incredibly, jaw-droppingly handsome, he makes my heart flutter and conversations (in person) make it seem like we’ve been best friends since we were six. He’s confident. Hell, I can’t remember the last time I’ve been on a date with someone who was truly sure of himself. This man has ambitions to become a teacher in an urban area where he can truly make a difference. I’m curious to see what the catch is, because there is always a catch. I’m just hoping it’s one that I could live with.

Details to come…

Orgasmically Complicated

The dark abyss that surrounds my glowing computer screen is grotesquely familiar. First off, you are unaware that your perfect round face, shaggy blonde hair and blue eyed portrait has been plastered in my brain, which has sucked the life out of me for the past two days. Also, I have a sinking feeling in my stomach each time I look at myself in the mirror and see the three small purple hickies you placed carefully on my body…one on my neck, and one on each breast. I still can intimately remember how you pulled my hair, which in fact has never been done to me before, (and was completely shocked I liked it) but of course you could do just about anything and I would get a thrill out of it. You were trying to resist temptation and settle for “can I have a hug?” which lead to you passionately biting my lip. A little while after, you picked me up and whisked me to your bedroom only to effortlessly throw me onto your mattress in the dark. Moan.

You bit down on my nipple quite hard actually, but my body craved your tongue and every inch of my body tingled with pleasure as you charted new territory. Your hand escaped down my waist and onto my wet vagina waiting patiently for release. My hand quickly follows down your chest and onto your rock hard dick. As you please me, I imagine you on top of me caressing my body and thrusting into me, being just as rough as you have been all night. Mega moan.

Shit. It’s 4:30 A.M. Sunday morning. You whisper “sit on my face I want to hear you scream.” No, I mean thanks for the two orgasms, but you currently still have a girl friend. Maybe once you figure out your situation we can talk about other romantic escapades together. I feel used as you ensure me on the bed of your truck that you “love” her, and I can’t help to think to myself why the fuck would you cheat on your girlfriend if you seriously loved her. Oh right, you mentioned over and over how you cant control yourself, and you thought I was beautiful/attractive/gorgeous/hot slash whatever other sweet nothing that truly meant nothing. Well its fucking 3:12 in the morning right now two days later and still no word from you and your fucking face is still in my cemented in my head. Maybe you feel guilty or don’t know what to do, but I’m currently trying not to care.

 

This is just the beginning

As I contemplate my life at 12:07 a.m. on the day of graduation, I feel like this is the first time I’ve had to think about my future, and my present for that matter. I just finished my last final this morning and had all my relatives in to entertain throughout the day today. It’s good to just sit still and bask in the peacefulness of quiet and darkness. I am mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted from final exams and the general bustle of college life.

I am moving to Kansas next Wednesday to start a new journey as I start the long arduous journey of becoming a veterinarian. I just need to allow myself to take one step at a time, one breathe at a time and with ease.

The transition from constantly studying, stressing about assignments and deadlines to having almost no responsibilities can be abrupt at times. This all doesn’t feel real, but I know it will sink in soon and I’m so ready for this summer. Journaling is fun. My brain needs a rest because at this point I’m about to type with my eyes closed.

xoxo

~A

Uninhibited Love

I want to run free with someone. I want to be uninhibited and not feel cautionary towards my words. I want to live vicariously through emotion and let my blood pool over and intermingle with another’s. I want the major arteries of my heart to be so grotesquely entangled in another’s that the force of one hundred drooling, voracious lions’ jaws would be the only way to pry our mangled hearts apart. I want to feel connected, yet unplugged and feel on fire, but amidst the wind on a canyon at the edge looking down filled with adrenaline licking the edges of my capillaries and shooting arrows through my spine…

I want to touch him and know he is home. I see my arms open to the sky and my toes flinching bashfully above the cold, damp earth covered in lush prairie pasture. My hair giving a facade of an uninhibited mind neatly tucked deep beneath a million strands of dead keratin. I see only myself in this picture, but I long for completeness. I want to be enrobed by warmth and promiscuously depend on someone for their idiotic idiosyncrasies. My body gracing their body with curious delight as I am searching for my sanity. Every square inch of my naked, aroused body yearning for the touch of their skin like a dejected addict needing his fix. Finally, the surface of his body has graced mine and our hearts beat in union. Energy begins to materialize and soar across our bodies, leaping and lunging, twirling and spinning. The kind of event that unravels heartache, loneliness, and the natural plight life so disdainfully has to offer.

He begins to caress my soul and put dressings on my wounds. He cradles me in his arms like I’m a doll needing a seamstress. Each pass with the needle and thread I feel more put together, and I no longer can feel the plasma drip out from the young pores covering my body. I want to be raw and uninhibited; not caring about my own self-restrictions, about right or wrong, good or bad. I want to be free and break the chains my mind so constricts me with. Sometimes you need another human because you are too weak to break the chains that have been strangling you for decades, maybe longer.

Note to Self

Do you ever get a heart-pang sensation to write? Last night at 1:00 AM I did, and I have enjoyed what has become of it. After sharing it with my best friend, she thought I should pick up a blog and so what the heck, here goes….a side track of something on my mind currently….

 

Writing is pretty fascinating if you think long and hard about it. Somewhere within the folds of our neural tissue our words are being spit at us and ideas are collecting from thin air. The process of conceptualizing an idea relatively instantaneously, sending motor signals to the muscles in my fingers and then creating words on this very screen is quite mind-boggling. The immense capacity of a human being is remarkable. It does beg the question though, are we the most remarkable species out there? It’s hard to even fathom our intricacies, let alone something even more complicated than our sentient, rational existence.

I guess I’ll share my piece of writing on the next blog entry.

First blog post

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