So today.... In the life of a bisexual.

My bar is out of tequila. How do I drink margaritas with no tequila. Jack it is. Only because they don't have scotch. Grrrrrr.

Didn't get fired. Said a prayer on the way. Smooth enough. Except this asshat of a fucking table comes in ten till the kitchens closed, and I'm out the door.  Guess who's turn it is? Mine. This bitch worked there. Still works in the industry. And her retarded ass fuck of parents came in last time and complained about me. So I'm stuck an hour after close until the bartender let's me finally transfer the table to her. Fuck that tip.

And right after i come in, as if weren't awkward enough anyway with bitch cunt face Rebecca there with all her shitty lies. I'm talking to one of the bartenders and the regular next to brings up how she tells half sleeve dude I got the hots for him. The look on her face when I'm casually standing there and realizes she ran her mouth.... jaw dropped. Then trying to explain herself.

It's cool, I like the girl. She was tipsy. And honestly I could believe trying to hook it up. She said he was flattered. Ehhhh... I said whatever I wasn't trying to marry him.

Strange day in general.

Omg fucking God. Swear on everything my piercer chic just walks in the random ass bar I'm in, not random to me, I'm here regularly enough. And so the weird day of today an the universe continues. Why in this very second did I feel myself shrink down like a little girl and think omg I hope she's never read my blog. And I need to fix my hair. Fuck.

This day is stranger and more awkward by the minute. I'm not sure if I'm being rewarded for keeping my shit together or tested by the heavens.

The fucking paradox of my perplexity.  Like is this even real? who does this shit happen to besides me?

I'm like fucking schoolgirl with a crush. Lord help me.

Not to mention I had the strangest sex dream about two of the bartenders here and one of them is sitting right next to me. Like I almost wrote about my dream this morning. It was that foul and dirty. Highly enjoyable. Not that I can tell them.

And now hot piercer has made contact, walks to the middle of the bar while I'm at the end with the bartenders and side glances the same time I did. Bitch I know you seen me. Bitch you may have read my blog. That would be my luck and hilarious. Not to hate because all women are beautiful, besides cunt bag rebecca, but I think I'm pretty. Hey.. if she does read this... I get down with the get down... I could get down with you and your girl. We could throuple. And apparently lives out here too. Like a couple streets down from me. Fucked up. It's a small strange ass world.

Top 1 weird ass day. Also to break the bad djing skills I ask for nin closer. Yes girl. I will. Fuck you like an animal. 藍 I crack myself up. Proceed to smoke and look at that half shaved head and now blur song 2. I'm telling you... fucking weird yo.

I can appreciate if the universe was keeping me at work just to be able to stare at the woman of my dreams. Like I cannot stress enough hot hot this half shaved headed bitch is. The filth and monstrosities I think of fucking her with.

Yum.

I'm big on vibes. And invisible ones at that. What if... this hot fucking bitch was thinking about me the same as I was thinking about her and the secret world of invisible magnetism, after my crazy day at work decided I deserved something that great to rub one out to..... Thank you universe. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmm.

Thank you the laws of attraction. Seriously.

I asked her what she was doing in my neck of the woods and she told me she lived here... I asked where? I need to know... 6 fucking roads down. How have I never seen you walking my dog? How is this possible?

Are you happy with your girlfriend? Girl... I could make you happy.... Bitch I'll make you soup when you're sick. Bitch I'll make you sick just to make you soup. I'm dying laughing in my head at that.

Sunny in philly to sleep it is. I swear the universe is nuts. I can't even say this shit out loud.


*Now I am awake and sober.. I should say she does look very happy with her girlfriend and love being the beautiful auspicious thing it is... I would never do anything to get in the way of that. Not my style at all. So I'll just fan girl crush on her regardless but I'm glad she's all happy in love and shit. People need more or that... Also I bought a drum set from her girlfriend before... random and true.

Maybe I won't get fired...

So I get to work with the ravenous cunt Rebecca today. Yay. This girl who I just helped pay to go skydiving with me.. on my birthday... And who I have an endless wealth amounted about her misbehavior. Who is spreading rumors about me faking being raped and faking cancer.

I do not need an assault charge. I do not need an assault charge. I do not need and assault charge.

I forewarned the bosses yesterday. Showed the texts and such. I've not said anything to her besides a god luck and grown up. I have several blocked messages from her. Freaking out. I didn't engage. But I am a quiet storm. I have zero idea how this is going to an out. Zero. I know we won't be scheduled with her after this. So if I can make it through this day I have no worries. But.. that's if I make it through this day.

My imagination drifting into swooping her hair into my hands and slamming her face into my knee cap. One and done. I think she has no idea because I ignore her what could be in store. A bludgeoning. There is nothing real or genuine about her. Nothing. She uses her own husband. Claiming how mad he makes her but she can't afford a new house without him. Marriage at it's finest. I've seen her do it for years. This is why when this first came about I knew it was my own fault for ever attempting to be her friend. This is what I get. So I just didn't call her out. Even after days of it I hadn't done anything to feed into it. She's petty.

But I did she my boss how she's just pissed I stopped giving her adderall and that's when al of this started. Still always smiling in my face.

Bitch, I stay to myself. Limited and loyal circle. I have few people close and the one's I do are of high caliber. You were who I partied with when I didn't have my shit together and we kept in touch. She paints this perfect life and hides from her kids in her car most the time. Lying about so much shit its ridiculous. I have never called her out. Like kermit sipping his tea. None of my business

The owner of the bar I go to at the end of my long days told me if I get fired come in he'll buy me a shot. Lol.

So I'm heading out. God goes before me. I work with children, I do not need a felony. Wish me luck folks.

Hey yo Isaac..

I got your voicemail. I can see the range of people who read this. On the operating system that they do.  have this to say....

Stop. You're not sorry your concerned. You thought first you could get money. And then maybe a green card. And I was nice. I was a kind human being. I tried to be understandable. I really tried to comprehend why a person, a real life human, could ever do such things. I thought about being poor. And desperate. I've been both of those things. Smiling with my eyes that anything that looked possibly enticing so that I could escape. I know that feeling. I, never did anything like you. I never used anyone more than a drink and some sex. I know I'm not you.

And I've been over it again and again and again and even again in my head. I'd like to think of anything but. I'd like to be the kind of person that looks passed your experiences and frankly, honestly I do. I don't care you're poor. For a million times a million more years, I'd rather be poor and have real love that rich and be fake. I'd rather be beautiful on the inside and ugly on the out than vise versa.

Money is a false politician in life. It may buy possibilities, but paradise is in your mind. I have lived through hell. I have been my own hell. And until you learn, and know, you will continue to strive for a life that ever exists. Rich doesn't make things better. It makes more problems. Look at the headache you caused the real life man you pretended to be because you assumed money was worth.

It's not even close. Worth, is being able to look at yourself in the mirror in the morning and liking them. It's seeing someone in need and even with very little giving the what you have. It's being the best friend, or human being you can be. It's being there without a doubt when you a person just need an ear. It's giving your last dollar. Money is fucking paper the entire world has tricked you into thinking you need.

Think about this. When I thought you were Tom did I seek your money? Or did I seek the adventure God put into my soul and long days of affection and wonder?

We both know the answer. We both know the answer for real. I was never interested in money. If anything him leaving it and living a life of love and being. My imagination surpassed a dollar bill. Perhaps why you find it so hard to let go. Why I have voicemails in place of false texts.

You made me a fool. I forgive you. It didn't feel good. But because God, despite my circumstances put a giant heart in me that wants to love regardless.

My life is complicated enough. I just lost 6 years of my life. My whole heart hurt and then the wake of your destruction. Making me a fool for thinking girls like me, who were good in the world really did have a the possibility of good too. It's an idealistic thought. I don't deserve good because I am good. It's the premise of the whole world and I in self realization needed to learn that. But I don't have to let that ruin me.

People will talk about you behind your back. People will lie, steal, cheat, and do whatever they have to do to survive. I just like every kid I mentored, will be a skyscraper.

I have a solid foundation, I have structure, and I will stand tall. No matter who's hot air blows my way. I have the choice to crumble or stand. You out of greed and desperation tried to make me into rumble. I will not be for you. I will not be for my broken heart anymore. I will stand tall and heal, and help those who need to heal as well.

I can't be your friend. I'm sorry. I hope in all of this, you know, we are not all the same. We maybe few and far between, but there are good people. There are some of us that understand. But a hard life lesson I learned a long time ago was you can love someone from far away. I don't take credit at all. God, working to shine a light in the world through all my broken pieces. And not that you'll understand what I'm going to say, but my markers.

God knows I love my markers, but what he is giving me is so much better. And that is cutting out with the tools he gives me, the pieces of me that make me less than. To be a masterpiece. Something the world can see his glory in. And I hope, with all my heart, that you pray, not for another person, but for God to show you who you are supposed to be and what he is doing in your life. In mine, it's getting rid of all the pieces that make me, ... me. A potter and clay.

Stop regarding what you have as wealth. Wealth is wisdom. It is love. It is the kindness you share with not only those close to you, but everyone and anyone. Including those who have done you wrong.

It's forgiveness, and trust. Trust that whatever door the universe closes, there will be another one in time to open. All you have to do is work on you, and be good. Specifically to those who have done you wrong. For this reason alone.

If not for any other reason. There is not enough love in the world. And when you cannot find it, just be it.

The world needs more good people, and a lot less people worried about themselves. I wish you humbleness and forgiveness and the ability to change who you are. You will never change someone else, it's impossible. Only you. I wish you the best sir. I won't respond. I hope you find inner peace.

Also

I have Blur song 2 stuck in my head

Half sleeve dude

So the hot guy at work enters the building almost as soon as I do. I'm referring to him as my work husband now. Only to my coworkers. The dude was there again my entire shift. Doesn't talk to me. But always about my music choices. Loudly. And he doesn't do it to anyone else's. And I'm talking air guitaring to dashboard confessional as I'm walking around singing it. And I catch him side eyeing me. And I'm big on vibes. Dude gives off the feeling me vibe. I pretend I don't notice.

But my gawd this dudes got an ass on him. Maybe even better than his face. And he's fucking hot. Like I'm talking not just my type but every one of us girls in there.  Like gawking hot. At least 6 ft. Blonde. Blue eyes. Bigger build but not too big. Like perfect amount of meat on his bones. Not work out, but maybe just manual labor works. Then that half sleeve. And while we're not actually 15 anymore, still a studded belt.

I play things like the killers, and modest mouse, the used, chevelle, panic, paramore, defiantly dashboard,  and things of this nature. And always super geeked. I'm not sure even with side eyes dude is feeling it. Hell it's better than the country fuck shit they play otherwise that makes me want to blow my brains out. No hobo johnson, not an option.

But as I stand at the host stand and stare at the bar. Not really at the bar but his ass.  I could devour him. It's not fucking cool that I'm such a filthy fucking person and an ass like that was created. Like the heavens opened just to make an ass that looked that great in a pair of jeans and studded belt.

The girls laugh at me, but we all have googly eyes.  I'm really just a disturbing person in my brain. Like the filth I think, I should be getting paid to direct movies with.

I looked at the one girl Jess at work tonight at told her, I just want to fuck him, cuddle him to sleep, and be gone before he wakes up in the morning.

This dude. I have an issue. I have fucking issues anyway. But the things I would do to that ass. I think about biting it. Way too much it's unhealthy. A lot unhealthy. Like maybe I need to think about doing my job and not actually biting this guys ass.

I feel like with life, and my lack of coping mechanisms,  I'm a bottle of pop that's been shaken. And something or someone is about to pop the tab.

I need Jesus.

I need to get out

So as I spend most days not looking for a new mate, to be frank, the best thing I can do. But a ravenous urge is building in my bones. The cravings of a monster. I kept it quiet for so long. But simple tasks when I do leave the house leave me feeling like a lion on the prawl.

Seeking prey. My animal instincts kicking in. I was submitting a short story for a smut animation and turned myself on that when I was done I had to rub one out. Then run a few quick errands, one being the my piercer so she can have a once over of it and discuss the change of jewelry. I want to fuck the shit out of this girl. It's self controlled by an innocent flirting. I'm not sure on her end. I'm never good with reading women. But definitely on my end. I imagine her laying me down on the bed she pierced me on. It doesn't help I just came all over my fingers before I left the house. I think it intensified it as I was still incredibly turned on.

My demons. Biting her lips as I roll her onto her own table. Sucking her breasts. Licking her nipples as I circle them with my tongue softly, nibble them. The edges of my lips wiping the moisture of my mouth to drench them more. So as I move down to part her soaking wet pussy I can still with ease take my fingers to slide across them. I bury my face inside her legs. First with my tongue toying with her clit. Slowly. Dramatically as I tell her how good she tastes. Mmmmm. I make sure to continuously taste the inside of her hood. Arousing her. Hearing her moan. It turns us both on more.

I spit into her. Gushing wetness. I insert my fingers while I still eat her like the last supper. I can imagine her biting her lips and pulling my hair. I love it. I don't hardcore finger fuck her. Just with my middle and index with a lustrous speed go back and forth pressing up on her g spot. The same way I like to touch myself I tease her with. I know how good that feels. My tongue tasting all of her cum as it seeps out. It''s delicious. I tell her it's my pussy. I make her say it. I kiss her clit. 

Slurping it after. A filthy wetness I'm more than happy to indulge in. In woman you can feel the build up. The sweet spot. It starts to taste slightly different before they cum. I imagine in our dirty deeds stopping right before she gets there. While she's a little salty I tell her I'm not done, I don't want to her cum yet. It's my pussy, I'll do with it what I want. Suck her nipples some more. Blow in her ear and tell her to tell me she loves it. All while I'm still slowing fingering her with my right hand. I love her fucking tits. Caressing my lips on them. Telling her she's my good girl. Then kissing her navel. Licking my way back down while she begs me to go back.

I tell her to hush. Not to say another fucking word or I'll stop. I make her apologize. Rewarding her when she does. Tell her how fucking beautiful she is. Then putting my face back in her pussy where it belongs. She thanks me. I take my fingers out to lick them and spit on them, not that she wasn't soaking wet. But because I love her taste. I feel her clit tighten again. She's still on the verge of cumming. I love it. I lick down from the top of the sweet pussy to her asshole. Where I love to spend my time easing my tongue in and out of it. I spit on that too. Then run my finger in wet circles to entice her. My tongue and lips moving back up. She leaks and I guzzle. Her cum welcomed as my dinner to fill me. She can't help it. She's almost there. Moaning and begging me. I allow it. I tell her that her pussy is my favorite. I let her know she's almost allowed to come. I feel her tighten more. I make licks all around her cliterous. Everything on the sides and above. From there to her hole where my I put my fingers back in to glide softly. Pushing. In the same spot coming out thicker and thicker as she's about to orgasm. Working my way up the middle where I start to suck. Gently. As I suck I start slobbing and dripping to make it a mess. I love wet nasty head. My tongue pushing softly inside her clit over and over and over and over. She's screaming now she's going to come. I don't dare move and fuck her cum up. I want it to be hard. I want her to squirt all over my face. I'm parched and it's welcomed for my thirst.

She explodes all over her table. I continue to suck and lick as she does, it lasts a good while. Until she begs me to stop because her legs are shaking against my head and she's so sensitive she can't take it. I laugh and gently lick a few more soft times. Caressing her clit in between my lips. Then kiss the perimeter of hers. And then her thighs. I tell her that's my girl. And I go back to her breast where I nibble some more until I kiss her.

After all this you think I would be done right? Nope, I want to strap up and fuck her while she soaking wet and there is homemade lube everywhere. I want to grab her by the throat as I kiss her and squeeze. I want her to cum more, because once is never enough. I'm dripping down mt own legs excited. She begs me for my pussy. I tell her not till she cums again. I call her horrible names. I tell her she's my dirty little slut and she's going to do what I say. I spit in her mouth. I'm fucking and pulling her hair. She's gasping for air in intoxication saying my name. I tell her to stop. It's yes ma'am. My dirty little whore is about to get put in the corner. I lick the side of her face. She filthy and loves it. When I've had my fill I tell her go kneel in the corner like a good nasty princess.

She gets on her knees. I unstrap. I grab her by her hair and shove her face in my pussy now. She can't get enough. She slurps me me soup. I stand over her watching. I tell her how good she is. Tell her tell to tell me how good I taste in her mouth. As she looks up with me with sexual longing, all her piercings, all her tattoos, her half shaved head's hair in my hands, I tell her she's a fucking cunt whore, my cunt whore and she's so fucking gorgeous. I tell her she can get off her knees. I lay back in her juices we left on her table. I tell her to make me cum. She delights in it.

My mouth is salivating thinking about it. This is why I need to get out of my house more. I need to have sex. I'm going to implode soon. And this is a fraction of a second in my head when I look at this chic. And I just say one word sentences we we actually speak. Cool, thanks....

Now I'm horny again though. Masturbation day. I need to shut these things out. This cant be a normal occurrence to have these thoughts. And while she is fucking hot and I would fuck her, these are things that happen when I go out and see the general public. This is why it's dangerous.

Today's Real Life

So my best friends husband has brain cancer. This sucks. And I've asked a thousand times what she needs or what I can do. Obviously I can't cure cancer, but Alex is both of our husband. He married her and I was here first, my name is tattooed on her ass, and so frankly he's married to both of us.

She calls today. Directly after I open my eyes and put on the tea kettle. What are you doing today? Me: Nothing? .. Her.. You don't work? Me: No not that that would matter what do you need me to do?
Her: I have a thousand errands and I want you to go with. Me: I'm in.

So She swoops me, and then makes a joke about how Alex is at home and asking who she is going with and before she can answer he goes... It's Melissa isn't it? She laughs and tells him yes. And asks how did he know. He replies with a... She's the only one you can call and will do anything with you, And she tells him you know what the best best part is? And he asks what? She didn't even ask where we were going and laughs hysterically. His response being... Just don't come back with any tattoos.

I didn't need to ask questions. I didn't care if I was working. It would of been a call off in a heartbeat for her. She is my best friend, our husband has brain cancer, and she needed me. Even without the brain cancer part.. she needed me. That's what friends are for. So I just get home. After running to a thousand doctors and hospitals to get every report to drive it an hour away with her to give it to a completely different hospital who will be taking care of his chemo and radiation. .... Then when we are done we stop for a drink.

She needed to get out. And we were having the time of our lives, like this is seriously my other half, and then drama from Rebecca starts to occur in the middle of our day. I deleted her form Facebook after her sister comes over the the day and tells me everything she's been saying, and it's really only things she could of said, she sends me a message telling me I'm lying about cancer, and being raped, and it's sick, and I'm just manipulating people for drugs.

Let's be clear... This is because I wouldn't give her anymore of my adderall. Or her husband... That's when she stopped talking to me. Starting spreading lies and I got the text messages to prove it. Even worse though she starts texting Benga... and while we have exchanged a limited number of texts since the end of everything, I today had to actually speak to him on the phone and break everything down.

The sound of his voice for the first time in what seems like forever and just yesterday was painful. We don't even know how to talk anymore. This person I shared my life with for so long and we were stammering to find the words. Hesitating taking turns to complete sentences. It wasn't easy. I didn't know if I would ever hear his voice again. It's still messy now. Made more complicated by Rebecca's unnecessary drama. Me trying to figure how he was making sense of listening to her say she wasn't trying to start drama and yet she went out of her way to tell him. How could common sense over look that in the first place. Him and I don't speak. We ended things messy. We don't communicate very well. Why if I  hadn't been in contact with him would he think anything but the truth? Now we have to audibly hear one another. It hurt. Not any of what was going on was his business anyways. This girl who was nothing but chaos, and it's my fault because I knew it, reaching out to the person who broke me. I know he didn't mean to, it wasn't only his fault. I take responsibility. I always did. But he thought that meant I was going to change who I was, that I wanted to be something besides something irrational for love. I didn't. And I still don't.

I yelled and screamed, and fought because he was silent. And I was willing to do anything to break the echoing of nothing between our walls. He couldn't talk about feelings unless he was drinking. And even then we weren't actually together. Friends for 6 years. Moved in with me after he broke up with his ex. I was there, and he wasn't ready. He knew I was in love with him. He would be intimate with me in so many ways, the really important ones, not sex. He provided, held me at night, he listened to me, my hopes, my dreams, my fears. I woke him up when I had a nightmare, at least until we became each others. Then would take other girls to the places that were sacred to us. Or at least me. We lived together in this constant battle for too long. He saw the ugly in me and said it was too much. He hated the person I was. He told me all the time. But then would beg me to do things for him. Go get his food so he didn't have to stop playing his video game. I took care of him when he was sick, or hurt, or needed anything at all. I did his laundry. I cleaned his messes and ran his errands. I did his bidding. And he said I never saw him at the end of it. I never cared about what he wanted. I'm more than happy to say all I saw was him, I told him that and he didn't, he doesn't believe me.... For three years not dating anyone. Staying at home. Waiting on him to hold me. Ready to be there when he was ready. He was hovering in the doorway of life. Never coming or going. I deserved it because I accepted it. And it ruined us. I feel the same way he does. He never saw me. He never in my moments of desperation saw me, fighting him for him. Because he was what I wanted. He knew it, we watched one another cry so many times for both sides of the battle.

What the icing on the cake was for him was I lied. You can always tell the truth after, but you can't take a lie back. Once it's said, it's there, somewhere, deep in the soul of the person you told it to, forever. My lie was embarrassing. A life experience forced on me by no choice of my own. It was my deepest, darkest secret. People have those. I had learned to keep mine locked away with limited exposure. I had been betrayed so many times. The feeling of flush to my face when it was thrown out casually as if it didn't happen to me. As if it was nothing. A joke I was the butt of. It was something I had no warning of. No idea. No parent that said don't put yourself in this situation... No one to look out for me. But I felt if everyone knew, I would always be labeled. Not known, but judged, mocked in secret from the people I tried to know and trust. Never being my name again but just thing that happened to me. Even my mother had used it against me for it. Making jokes. Telling strangers laughably. When I lied to him I hated myself for it. I wish in that moment I had the strength to tell him the truth. I didn't. I was a scared little girl again. Panicked. Fear stricken. I loved him for so long, I didn't want him to hear those words from me that would changed the way he saw me forever. They did anyway. When the truth came out, he threw it my face, I wasn't me anymore. It happened so fast.

With Benga, I was willing. I was always ready. It's fucked me up more than I would like to admit. Even after we moved away from each other and I spent nearly everyday with him. When I finally started to date someone. He looked at me crying at his house telling me his biggest fear was losing me. That when I told him I was seeing someone his heart sank. That's when he wanted to be intimate with me again. When he kissed me back again. And held me. And chose to be kinda open. I just waited 3 years for this? So I was more determined and several time I initiated, and I cheated. I wasn't intimate with my "boyfriend".  Benga would feel bad after, but I hadn't changed. To me it was always him. He was always what I wanted. His heart was unmatched. I was attracted to the guy I had been dating but I knew Benga. Inside and out, in all of his mess, in all of his goodness, and his insides, they were never too ugly for me. And that's not to say he wasn't a hot mess too. He is.

Leaving dirty dishes all of his floor and fast food bags everywhere. Food always on his face. Falling asleep in the middle of anything. Including porn. All the time. He would drink and drive and refused to let me stop him, even one time tried to take my son. His life was work, sleep, eat, video games, do it again. That was his standard. I don't judge him for that. His sexual preferences not always matching my own. But it didn't matter because it turned me on to turn him on. He needed a personal alarm clock, he was mean when he was sleepy. He could have a full on conversation with you and not remember what you said. He said ugly things when he was mad. He would ignore all types of things but get irritated by the small shit..

I can't be with anyone now. This wound even now bleeding, I don't want it to pour all over someone else. Enough damage has been done. I'm okay with being alone. I'm okay with knowing and loving me

But then Rebecca trying to say I wasn't raped I'm just looking for attention. So all these lovely things I try to push down and keep swallowing everyday come to the threshing floor. So here we go... the complicated story of my rape. That until now, only my Melissa best friend has heard the entire truth of. She was the only person I trusted with the inner workings of my brain. Because it is complicated. And I'm still sleeping on my couch nightly instead of my bed trying to make sense of it all. I'm not home in my bed anymore, it gives me panic attacks.

I dated a guy named Devonte. He was a lot younger. I met him at work. Attractive enough. We had similar personalities so when Benga kept encouraging me to move on with my life, I started with him. Still very much in love with Benga. We dated for about two months. We hadn't had sex. I had been celibate for 3 years. From actual sex. Benga and I had done everything but, to the point of  "just the tip" But I'm a recovering sex addict and it was something important, and very scary for me to deal with again.

I picked Devonte up and he came over like many times before. I thought he was cute, but something in me kept trying to get rid of him. My gut knew something was off. Benga told me I was a just afraid of love. This day we were watching TV in my bedroom like many other times and snuggling. My head on his chest legs intertwined. And I was rubbing my leg on his and he made a joke I better stop it. I thought he was playing, and I didn't. I laughed about it. I was just being affectionate, I am very affectionate. He slid his body over and rolled on top of me while forcing me who been on my left side to force my face down into my pillow. Where he held my head down, with one hand and pulled my pants down with his other. I froze. I was catatonic with fear. I couldn't do anything. He inserted himself in me until he finished. Inside me. No condom. It wasn't that long. I didn't know what to do, or say. When he finished he laid on top of me and stared at me.

I didn't want to believe after all this time of actually not going through it, this, this moment just happened. I didn't want to believe the first boyfriend I had in 3 years just raped me. He didn't stay long after. I drove him home. I cried the entire way with him apologizing to me. Saying he was sorry he knew I wanted to wait. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to think that maybe it was my fault. I'm a grown up. Was it unrealistic to not be having sex? To expect him to lay in bed and wait? This is where it gets complicated. As if it wasn't enough...

I didn't break up with him then. In fact, the next week I allowed him to come over and I had sex with him willingly. I didn't want to admit it was his fault. I put myself and him in that position and I didn't want to be the girl who yelled rape. How would that look? A recovering sex addict invites boyfriend into bedroom alone where we are laying cuddling and then I yell rape? I didn't want to be a bad girlfriend. It's the first relationship with actual labels and everything in God knows how long. I didn't want to ruin this guy's life forever. So I did have sex with him thinking, maybe it would cancel the other occurrence out. Maybe just maybe, even though I had waited that long, I just needed to suck it up and get over it. Maybe this is what I got for laying in bed with Benga, for giving myself, my body to him in such ways that were everything but "sex". Maybe I just needed to let it go.

After that, two days later he dumped me. I knew that it was the goal in the first place. In the moment I had been honest and said I hadn't had sex with anyone in 3 years I became a goal. And when he raped me he was just as scared I would do something as I was in general. So he waited for me to be a willing participate so he could walk away with no worries. Who would believe me? I just had sex with him. I remember texting him and asking if that was the purpose of everything in the first place? That's when he blocked me and that was the last I spoke to him.

The rape happened days after I got the call from the clinic with the results from my pap smear. My cancer was back, and because they were a clinic they had no means of giving me full treatment. I needed to go to an actual gynecologist to discuss options and referrals for all of that.

I knew it was worse this time. The same clinic actually cut it out the first two times. It was a rude awakening. I remember throwing it in Benga's face I was just going to die alone anyways. I felt the pains starting to come back two years ago. I knew it was back. I knew I wasn't doing anything about it. I am a masochist. I wanted him to hold my hand and be my rock, and when he couldn't, and when he wouldn't, I didn't want to deal with it at all. It's fucked up. I know that more and more everyday as I wait for my appointment and stretches of pain keel me over. Some days much worse than others. I didn't want to do it alone. I wanted to ignore it until maybe I gave birth to all of my insides and then fade away. I never saw me making it past 30. Death is but a moment.

Now, regretfully so, I wish I would of dealt with it sooner rather than later, just for the sake of avoiding the physical pain. I'm doing it solo regardless.

Honesty is hard. I always thought I was brave enough to say the hard things. That hasn't always been true. I've hurt people I love. I've lost who I am. I'm only recently, hiding in my house away from people and distractions am started to heal. From everything. And I don't blame Benga. At all. He's just a part of my story that left a hole in my heart. A wound that will leave a scar. A lesson I had to learn. Rebecca, won't change, it's not in her. That's only my problem if I let it be. She will be her regardless. And I, have enough on my plate. And I still have people who love me.