The Virginity Monologues

What if- once upon a time, you met a guy who with whom you had instant and electric chemistry. And then proceeded to have an almost 2 year long, on again -off again, incredibly tumultous relationship. When it was good, it was the best nights of your life. The most consistently amazing sex. Slow dancing in the living room. Xbox. Laughing endlessly. Long, quiet talks laying in each other's arms. Showering together. Eggo waffles together at 4 am.

But when it was bad, it was horrible. Rarely following through with plans. Lying about cancelled plans. Never really knowing how he felt. Crying endlessly because he just doesn't ever live up to who you hope he'll be.

The relationship ends in veritable burst of flames.

Eventually you become friends again. Completely platonic friends. You have lunches together. You talk on instant messenger. You watch him go through a lot and make a lot of major changes in his life. You watch him battle with his mother's increasing failing health. You watch him become a different person where women are concerned. You talk about life together. And for about 8 months, this is your relationship.

Then one day, you're talking. You're making him laugh with the ridiculous sorts of situations you often find yourself in. He reminisces about your time together. And suggests going out together. It feels different. It feels like things aren't so platonic anymore.

You are hesitant. You remember how strong your feelings for him were. You remember how much he hurt you.

Do you try again?

Labels: Scott

I've been thwarted by my own phone!!!

So, remember the guy, the Tuesday night guy, the one that I cursed out because he randomly disappeared. Well, there was an explanation. There was an out of town trip and a number forgotten at home.

There was also an adorably frantic call last Monday and an urgent message to call him back.

We've hung out a couple of times this week, and I've been working very hard at just letting things happen and not freak out too much and to not have my expectations too high.

I don't even know what to call him.

Let's keep it simple and call him Domino.

So, last night, he came and hung out with me while I did laundry. Then he left because he had some things to take care, but asked if I would be home later so he could call.

Imagine my surprise when my phone did not ring once all evening.

But, the most important lesson I'm trying to teach myself is that- things happen. Not everyone calls 100% of the time. Its okay.

So, I didn't freak out and I went to sleep okay and I was not biting off everyone's head this morning, as I am generally known to do when someone does not live up to my expectations.

Earlier today, I was chatting with a friend (okay, I'll be honest, it was Scott, but nothing is happening and we're just chatting, that's it), who said that he called me twice last night and it went straight to voicemail both times.

OH NOES! (Since I started visiting I Can Has Cheeseburger every 30 seconds, it's completely worked its way into my vernacular)

Farging phone!

Domino probably called and I probably didn't get it because my phone HATES ME.

UGH.

And just to give everyone a heads up- not that I have been a posting maniac lately, but I am going out of town for 4 days next week. Do not be alarmed if you don't hear from me for a while.

SMOOCHES!!!

Today's Title from: Why Didn't You Call Me by Macy Gray

Labels: Domino, Scott

I've started approximately 5 blog posts today because I can't decide what I want to write about. So maybe, I'll just do a brief synopsis of all the shit in my brain.

1. Friday night. Literally one of the most perfect nights of my life. Email Boy and I met at Shea Stadium around 6:30. We loaded up with hot dogs, burgers, fries, beer and peanuts. And laughed our asses off as the Mets lost big time to Atlanta- we weren't laughing at the Mets, we love the Mets, we were laughing at each other. After the game (or really, after we left the game in the 7th inning because we were losing badly and it was FREEZING cold), we went to a movie. Then around 2 am, he drove me home and I made fun of his techno music the entire ride. Because it is super lame. It's essentially the same song over and over again, plus or minus some drums. Seriously, the lamest music ever. Can I please find a version of Email Boy who is sexually attracted to me and marry him? I think that would be ideal.

2. It's BOILING hot here today. That's right- 85 degrees. Friday night it was 42, today it's 85. And it reminds me that I'm not quite yet ready for summer weather yet. I would like to have a spring first. Since winter just ended last week for us, could I please have at least a few weeks of jacket weather before I have to start worrying about the profuse sweating on my way to the subway? Muchas gracias.

3. Dr's appointment this morning in my continuing Tonsil Saga. I got another round of antibiotics for my second bout in as many weeks. One more bout and he's sending me to a throat doctor. HOT.

4. It's been a full month of absolutely no contact with Scott at all. It's been harder than I would like to admit. I have completely removed all traces of him from my life. Comments and emails on Myspace, all deleted. All text messages deleted. By all rights, he should also be gone from my head, yes? I am frustrated at his continued lingering presence. I am frustrated that I have to talk myself out of calling him and resolving things. I want to genuinely hate him.

Today's Title from: You Oughta Know by Alanis Morissette

Labels: Email Boy, Scott, tonsils

I couldn't write about it at the time, but there is a story to The Demise of Scott. It's not pretty. It's even worse because it happened the same night as The Italian. Which is why it was deemed officially- The Second Worse Night of My Life.

I left The Italian in a drunk haze in Tribeca that night. We'd had 2 bottles of wine and I should have gone home and crashed. But Scott and I had planned to meet up and after what I had just gone through with The Italian, I ached for Scott, for his arms and his lips and his ability to make me forget that there is anyone else in the world but the 2 of us.

I directed the cab to the fastest route to meet Scott at the subway station near his work. I was late and I was feeling terrible about it. The subway was all sorts of fucked up and traffic was horribly backed up on the Queensborough bridge so that by the time I finally got to him, we agreed to just cab it back to his place. Totally unrelated, but as I got out of the cab, one of my 4 inch heels caught in a pothole and I totally wiped out on the sidewalk. Hard enough that I had bruises, in a lot of places. It was hot.

We got inside his house and immediately jumped in the shower, where things definitely got hot. Very, very hot. We moved to the bedroom. It was the standard earth-shaking sex that it always is, when he stood up to switch it up a bit and while standing up- reached over and PICKED UP HIS PHONE TO CHECK HIS MISSED CALLS. I'm not even kidding.

I was FURIOUS. The last time I had been at his house, he'd ignored me for the first hour that I was there while he texted back and forth with someone. I hadn't seen him in A MONTH! So, to again come in second to his fucking phone, when I needed his undivided attention more than anything, was unbearable. He left the room for a second to do something, and by the time he came back, I was under the covers facing the wall. I would have gone home, but it would have taken hours at that time of the night.

He came over and put his hand on me, saying he knew I was mad, etc, etc when his phone beeped that he had a voice message. He left the bed to pick it up and then went into the living room and proceeded to talk for about 45 minutes. The first offense I could have worked through, but the second was unforgivable.

I didn't let him touch me the rest of the night. We never talked about it and when I left the next morning, no words were spoken.

When I got to work, I found that he had deleted me as a 'friend' on Myspace. While I was at his house, in his bed. Not unlike how the last time I stayed the night, I found a blog post the next morning that he wrote while I was at his house, asleep in his bed, about a girl, a girl that definitely wasn't me.

I re-read the the entire last year of my blog, trying to find absolution in our demise. It was frightening for me to read how from the very beginning, he had let me know exactly how badly he was going to treat me. He repeatedly made plans that he didn't follow through on, he told me stories of friends getting shot, only to have pictures of him and his ex show up on his myspace page at a party that he had gone to that night. He never introduced me to friends, he never met any of mine. Although he claimed differently, he never saw me as more than a vehicle for sex. For an entire year, he consistently made me feel like shit.

And I put up with it. For good sex. For validation. And in the hopes that someday I would be enough, never really realizing that the whole time, I was more than enough, and that it was him that wasn't.

Part of me feels like an enormous weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I will never again have to suffer through another day of wondering if he will do what he says he's going to do. He can't ever disappoint me again. He can't ever hurt me again. He can't ever lie to me again.

And another part of me just feels empty. He told me once how a girl had told him that he was a worthless excuse of a human being. I should have known then, that one day, I would want to scream these exact same words at him.

I should have run.

Today's Title from: The End by The Doors

Labels: Scott

I am coming to a interesting realization. The men in my life, really don't go away.

Case(s) in point:

Mr. Wrong: I never talk about him anymore, because I hate him. I haven't answered his calls or hung out with him in over 5 months. I'm not playing a game here. I genuinely don't ever want to see/speak to him ever again. He still calls. He called on Friday night at 3:30 in the morning. At least he has stopped calling 5-10 times in one night. It absolutely stuns me that he is still holding on when not getting even an ounce of encouragement from me.

Scott: Despite not speaking for over a month. I got an email, a text and a phone call from him on Friday. He'd like to start over and take me out on a date. I'm sorry, WTF?

Cam: We still fight, almost daily about the status of our relationship, despite my repeated attempts at telling him that there is NO relationship. It's really starting to irritate me. I may have had very strong feelings for him at one point, but I gotta tell you, all the fighting has really killed all that. He is driving me absolutely insane. I could happily never talk to him again and now that I've blocked him on IM, I hopefully never will.

The one that has disappeared though, is the one that I least wanted to.

Marc.

Not a word from him in the last month. I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss him.

Life just isn't ever fair is it?

Today's Title from: Open Your Eyes by Snow Patrol

Labels: Cam, Marc, Mr. Wrong, Scott

Last night was potentially one of my best Valentine's Days- ever. Truth to be told, it was an interesting day altogether.

The reason it was so great, was because I made dinner for my roommates and we spent the evening together- happy just to be with each other.

Dinner consisted of:
Parmesan crusted chicken- with lemon mustard sauce
Garlic Mashed Potatoes
Fresh Green Beans

And the grand finale- Molten Chocolate Cakes.

I am officially a GODDESS in the kitchen.

I hadn't expected to hear from any of the miscreants who call themselves men in my life at all yesterday. I figured if there's any day of the year when men avoid women they aren't interested in committing to and treating with respect, that Valentine's Day would be that day. Not so, in my unfortunate case.

I got an email from Cam. Telling me that he had called me the night before, wanting to say hi, and that he missed me. I never saw the missed call (I was in the subway for an extended length of time though, after drinks with Spatch) and the fucker didn't leave a message. So, whatever. If that's his idea of fighting for me, then it's probably best that this relationship is over.

I got a comment on my myspace page from Scott- just telling me Happy Valentine's Day. Way to put your back into it, champ!

Then, I got a text from Marc- around 4ish. It read 'Happy Valentine's Day'. I figured it was a mass text to a bunch of women in his phone book and didn't respond. At 8ish, I got another one, it said the same thing. As if to say, 'Hello?! I'm wishing you a Happy Valentine's Day! Respond, bitch!'

Here's the rundown of text-messaging that followed:
Marc: Happy Valentine's Day!
Me: Did you mean to send that to me twice.
Marc: Some people need more love than others.
Me: What are you up to? I'm making a huge dinner for me the girls, you're welcome to come over if you want.
Marc: Awwww. Thanks for the invite. But I just came home from the gym. I'm in for the night.
Me: You're missing out. Dessert is chocolate molten cakes.
Marc: Sounds good.

Pause in texting while we eat our insanely delicious dinner.

Me: Karen and my taste buds just had an orgasm.
Marc: I should have been there to have a taste bud orgy!
Me: You were invited.... We're going to start shedding clothes here soon....
Marc: Yeah right. Come shed over here. We have the whole house to run rampant. Everybody is gone!!!
Me: Please. You're all talk.
Marc: If you say so... My sex buds are hungry.
Me: You could have gotten fed over here.... My mouth is just as good as my hands.
Marc: LOL. Chicken.
Me: Don't push me. You won't know what to do when I call your bluff.
Marc: Yeah, yeah.
Me: If you really want me to come over, all you have to do is ask. (I only said this because I knew there was absolutely no follow-through in him).

Pause.

Me: That's what I thought. You can't ever call me a tease again.....

End text messaging.

Is it just me, or is he a TOTAL pussy.

Today's Title from: Only in Dreams by Weezer

Labels: Cam, Marc, Scott, Spatch

I just had one of the best weekends, ever.

Friday night, after a movie with Karen and some quality time in the ER for her mushed up finger, I met up with Scott and we went back to his place and had great sex. And I do mean great sex. He does this thing now, where he puts a pillow under my hips and it creates the perfect angle, for both of us. ROWR. I dig it.

The next morning, I was running late to meet Email Boy for brunch, because Scott was trying to make me multi-orgasmic. Luckily, he's a lazy slob and postponed brunch by an hour. Then we we finally met up, all he did was yell at me for fucking Scott again. But he's just jealous, because he's on a self-imposed 3 month hiatus and he hasn't had good sex in a long, long time. I still love him though.

After brunch, still wearing the same clothes I had worn to work the previous day because I hadn't had time to go home and change, I went down to Chelsea for a hair cut. A fabulous, fabulous hair cut. No one has really noticed, because not a lot of the length is gone, but now I have beautiful, shiny layers that make me dance with joy. Plus, after stuffing myself with yummy brunch food, then getting a fabulous head massage by the Hair Washer Guy, I felt as if I had actually reached Nirvana.

After the haircut, I finally went home to change my clothes. And once I got there, I realized that there would be no party for me that night. We were all unreasonably tired. So Karen, Shannon and I went to dinner, then picked up some junk food and a movie, then hied ourselves home and crashed. And I do mean- crashed. 20 minutes into the movie and I was OUT.

Right before I went to bed, I checked my phone. Text message from Marc. Interesting. Here's how it went.

Marc: Where's the party at?
Me: Don't know, I kept it pretty chill tonight. (Like I'm going to admit that I had just fallen asleep in front of the TV on a Saturday night)
Marc: Oh really! How's the new roomies.
Me: Fantastic. Although I got a fabulous new haircut today, so they're suffering from Hair Envy.
Marc: LOL! Send me a picture when you get a chance, I'm curious.
Me: Well, it looks bad right now, so you're going to have to wait on that one.
Marc: Cool. Well have a goodnight!

Seriously. WHAT THE FUCK?

If he was looking to booty call me- why didn't he just come out and say it? Is anyone else completely confused by this man's behavior? What did he want? Did our whole entire conversation about gettin jiggy from earlier last week completely escape his memory?

Sunday was a seriously alcohol filled brunch at my good friend, George's apartment. Then I spent the rest of the day back at my apartment just lounging around with my roommates, making our place more and more of a home everyday.

Today's Title from: Mama Said Knock You Out, by LL Cool J

Labels: Marc, Scott

I am in a dangerous place.

I can't escape my mind and it's myriad of irrationalities.

Nothing new to report with Scott. We've barely spoken and haven't seen each other since last week. I knew he wouldn't be different. Maybe I just needed that one last time to get him out of my system? I don't know. I do know that I am caring less and less every day.

I stayed at Cam's last night. We hadn't seen each other in over a week and I was missing him something fierce. We hung out, we laughed a lot. He just fell asleep. Again. It took me forever to fall asleep as I laid there trying desperately to figure out if he just found me repulsive or what? Seriously, was I just there for snuggling purposes? That didn't seem right to me. But seriously, when we haven't seen each other in over a week, I expected to be ravished. And yet, there I was ravish-free. I wanted to leave. Again. But I forced myself to stay.

Around 5:30 am, I woke to a hand snaking around and not so steathily removing my undies. It was slow and lazy and almost everything that I fantasize that sex should be (when I'm not fantasizing about being thrown up against a wall and ravished).

I fell back asleep content.

Today, I'm afraid.

After all the events of the last week, I have decided that it's Cam that I want to pursue, wholeheartedly. He is obviously the better man. In the 3 months that we've been seeing each other, he has never hurt me or disappointed me. All the times that I have cried have been because I am an insecure idiot who's terrible in relationships (admitting it is the first step...).

So now I have to take that leap.

And trust.

And risk.

The two dirtiest words in the English language, in my opinion.

What if he's not attracted to me? What if he doesn't really like me and I'm just convenient for him? What if he can't love me the way that I can love him? What if he doesn't want to date me seriously?

what if?

Today's Title from: More than Anyone by Gavin DeGraw

Labels: Cam, Scott

4:32 am

I am sitting at the kitchen table, eating a halal chicken patty and Eggo's, when the Sunny D container comes out of the fridge. I gulp down the rest of my drink and hand my cup to.....

Scott

and say, "hit me!"

I realize that I am as raw and exposed in this moment as I have ever been in my life, and I don't just mean physically, since I am garbed in only a tank top and panties.

I mean that I have no defenses left. My walls are all down, and this is the truest version of me that I am ever going to be.

And it's Scott that's witnessing it.

Maybe it was because was as if our last 6 hours together had felt like a hard fought battle and my defensive strategy is gone. Obliterated while I laid in Scott's arms crying as I told him all the times that he had hurt me in the last year, heart-breaking while I listened to him tell me about his mother, his family, the life that forced him to grow up so quickly and feel his arms tighten around me as he begs me to have patience with him.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you," I tell him. And I mean it.

Words mean nothing to me anymore.

After we become physically reacquainted with each other for the second time that night, I have to rush to the bathroom so he won't see me cry again.

I cry because even though we have never said words of exclusivity and I often feel as if he is only with me because he just wants to be with someone and I happen to be handy, I feel as if I have betrayed Cam. I cry because Cam's idea of foreplay is to wait until I'm done blowing him and say, "Take your clothes off, I'll get the condom," and Scott makes it last about 20-30 minutes. Foreplay, that is. Don't get me started on the rest. I cry because I am angry at myself for being here again, for feeling a wave of nostalgia when I walked into his apartment for all the times that I had been there previously. And I cry because when I asked him why he keeps coming back, he said, "Because you're illuminating."

Shouldn't love be easier than this?

Today's Title from: Sometimes Love Just Ain't Enough by Don Henly and Patty Smyth

Labels: Scott

I stayed at Cam's last night and this morning, he may have gotten too much of an insight into how much I am NOT a morning person. I did warn him though.

Overall, I can't complain about my relationship with Cam. He's there when I need him. The sex is pretty good most of the time (last night being an exception) and he loves to snuggle.

He'll do, for now. I suppose.

I heard from Scott yesterday. Here's my letter in response to our conversation yesterday.

Dear Mr. King-of-Making-Promises-That-You-Can't Keep-

I read your blog post on your myspace page. The one where you acknowledged that you haven't always been a great guy over the last year and that you lost some important people because of it. I'm not going to presume to that you're talking about me. Then you made a fairly bold (and unrealistic, in my opinion) promise to strive to be a better man in the next year.

Does telling me how much you miss me, and talking about us seeing each other again, then promising to call me to disuss things, then NEVER actually calling- fall into the category of Being a Better Man?

CAUSE I DON'T THINK SO.

I put up with a lot of shit from you. Way too much. I made excuses. I rationalized absolutely ridiculous behavior. Because I loved you. And I kept thinking that if I just stuck it out, it would have to get better, and that you would eventually realize what an absolute gem I really am. Never underestimate the power of denial in a woman.

I cannot believe that after all this time, you're still fucking with my head and my heart. And that I am still letting you.

My New Year's Resolution? To not cry one more god-damned tear over your sorry ass.

Smooches-
Chloe

Today's Title from: Run to You by Whitney Houston

Labels: Cam, Scott

Dearest Scott-

I didn't think it would ever happen. I didn't think there would EVER be a time when I would not ache for you, when I would not long to talk to you.

Poof!

It happened. Shortly after our IMing conversation a few days ago, when we talked about your family and I apologized for not being more understanding about a situation that I knew nothing about (silly, I know, but that's the kind of person that I am). And we agreed to be friends. Strictly platonic friends. You promised to take me out for my birthday, and we both expressed a desire to remain in contact.

While we were talking, an instant-messaging window from Cam (him and I have been seeing each other for a while now, he's the guy that I wouldn't tell you about) popped up. He wanted to see me. He had bought Syriana and didn't want to watch it alone (it IS a little depressing), so he wanted me to watch it with him. Plans were made for that evening.

After that I was done talking to you, I had said my peace and didn't want to drag the conversation on longer than necessary, so I signed off IM.

About an hour later, I had a message on my cell phone from Cam. He got called to play in a basketball game that night (he's in like 10 intramural basketball leagues) and said how sorry he was, but could we reschedule movie night?

Scott, you were great. Absolutely fabulous. But you never would have done that. You would have simply not called and let me spend all evening fuming about what had happened to you. You would not have answered calls or text messages. You would have just... disappeared. I know this because you did it to me AT LEAST 10 times. I lived in HOLY TERROR of it every time we made plans, which is why I learned NEVER to make advance plans with you.

And there it was. What I knew in my head FINALLY made its way to my heart and your lingering presence was gone.

I may still have an enormous ass. But I feel about 50 pounds lighter.

Smooches-
Chloe

Today's Title from: Movin' On by Rascal Flatts

Labels: Scott

All of my worst fears about myself have been confirmed. Follow my train of thought and you'll understand why.

I learned this morning that Scott had been going through some pretty serious family issues while him and I were dating/seeing each other/fucking. Things that he only mentioned to me very superficially. In such a way that I never would have suspected the depth of the trauma involved on his part. I wondered why he never shared any of it with me. After seven months of knowing me, does he really think I am of so little substance that he couldn't discuss those things with me? Does the man that I shared pillow talk with for seven months really find me to be so lacking in depth that he can't discuss with me the most important things to him?

I decided to head out for lunch and walk a little, pondering my identity crisis. Do other people really perceive me as that superficial? Do they look at my middle-class upbringing and current fairly priviledged lifestyle and assume that I know very little about heartache or what its like to suffer? And the worst of it all is that I wondered if it was true. I used to fall back on my deep seated religious beliefs as proof that I was a person of substantial personal integrity, but since I no longer believe those things, what is there about me to show that there is so much more to me than just the clothes that I wear, the place that I go and the people that I know? Was there really anything more to me than my fancy job, my obsession with sex, my shoes and my handbags?

HANDBAGS!

Sweet fancy Moses! I had forgotten about the Kate Spade sample sale! Luckily there was an open taxi right there, as if waiting for me. So I jumped in and directed him to the location, not needing to go back into the office and look it up because I have been there so many times previously.

20 minutes later, I made all my troubles disappear with this lovely new addition to my collection. And I felt better about having lost out on those Isaac Mizrahi heels that had been plaguing my dreams.

The end result is that I just might not have any depth to me at all, and I just might truly be everything that I fear most.

But at least I'm going to look good doing it.

Today's Title from: Santa Baby by Eartha Kitt

Labels: Scott

Dear Cam-

We had a good month. We did! When it last long enough, the sex was great. Things were nicely uncomplicated and you made me feel special when you told me that I gave the best blow jobs you've ever had and loved all the shirts that I wore especially for you and your boob fetish. You never made plans that you didn't keep and you were always very good with the communication. So imagine my surprise, when I expressed some sadness over instant messenger today that we couldn't see each other for a while due to our hectic schedules, and you told me to "call someone else". You even said, "call your ex until I'm available."

WHY DON'T YOU CALL ME A WHORE WHILE YOU'RE AT IT?

Fuckhead.

Just because I'm not demanding commitment from you doesn't mean I don't deserve respect.

Let's not see each other anymore. Mm-kay?

Smooches-
Chloe


Dear Scott-

I still miss you. And I hate myself for it everyday.

Smooches-
Chloe


Dear Saks-

When I put something on hold, I EXPECT IT TO REMAIN ON HOLD. I do not want to go in, a few very short days later to pick up the shoes that practically give me an orgasm and be told that there are none left. Anywhere.

It upsets me.

And probably Isaac Mizrahi too. To know that a pair of his shoes would have been loved more than any other pair and instead they probably were sold to someone else, who would never appreciate them the way that I would.

Smooches-
Chloe

Today's Title from: What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong

Labels: Cam, Scott

I don't really understand why Scott just won't go away? Why does he keep communicating with someone who has told him that she doesn't want to hear from him anymore? Is he a glutten for punishment? Is there more of an emotional attachment than I thought? Or does he just want to get freaky again?

There was a brief instant messaging conversation yesterday. Apparently he misses me and wanted to know if I was sleeping with anyone else. I refused to answer. Not any of his business anymore, really.

I laid in bed last night, contemplating the situation. Trying to reinforce to my heart all the things that my head knows.

My phone dinged with a text message. It read:

I do miss you.
From: Scott

That's nice, motherfucker. Thank for continuing to make me cry. I really appreciate it.

Have a happy Thanksgiving!

Todays Title from: The Thanksgiving Song by Adam Sandler

Labels: Scott

Dear Scott-

I think about you every day. Isn't that ridiculous! I sincerely doubt that you are thinking about me every day, or that you are having trouble sleeping at night because you are laying awake- thinking about me, like I do about you. I hate sleeping alone, and knowing that I'll never sleep in your arms again, makes me feel the aloneness that much more acutely.

I cried the day that I sent you the email, telling you I didn't want to see you anymore. I went into a bathroom stall, and sobbed. I cried the day that you instant messaged me, when you proved again what a total ass you are, and that's all the emotion I've allowed myself over you. But last night I cried myself to sleep. I missed you desperately. I would have given anything to have felt your arm wrap around me and pull me close, in that place where we both sleep bettter.

You're not a nice guy. You'll never be a nice guy.

But, dear god, I miss your face.

And I hate myself for it everyday.

Love-
Chloe

P.S. All of my blog post titles are song lyrics, and per request, I am going to start telling you where they all come from.

Today's Title from: Miss You by The Rolling Stones.

Labels: Scott

I miss Scott.

It's been harder than I thought it would be. I figured, that since I know in my head all of the reasons why he is not good for me, that walking away would be easy.

Wrong again.

This last weekend was supposed to be OUR weekend. I was going to arrive on Friday night and not leave until I had to go to work this morning. In my moments of weakness, I fantasized about how great this weekend could have been, knowing his ability to be so great in the moment. I imagined a lot of laughter, a lot of comfort, the security in sleeping in his arms for 3 nights in a row, and a whole lot of sex.

It took every ounce of willpower that I possess to not call him last night. I don't even know why I wanted to call him. I didn't have any good reason at all.

I just have to keep reminding myself that someone else will slow-dance me around the living room and mean it to the depths of their heart.

P.S. As of yesterday- I have officially lost 22 pounds in the last month and a half.

Labels: Scott

The ICING on the fucking cake- I just heard from Scott. He instant-messaged me (I had deleted him from my IM, not realizing he could still see me on his). I wanted to see if he had anything of significance to say, but after about 10 minutes of just shooting the breeze, I'd had enough, here's what happened:

Me: You realize you're just torturing me here, right?
Scott: How am I torturing you?
Me: Babe- you checked your email lately?
Scott: Yea. I got your email. You don't want to see or speak to me ever again?
Me: I just want to get over you.
Scott: I know.
Me: What do you want?

Then the total piece of chickenshit signed off.

Isn't he grand?

Well, now that I'm keenly aware of his lack of desire to fight for whatever it was that we had, I won't be answering any phone calls, texts, or IM's.

God, please make him go away.

Labels: Scott

After some ill-fated communication last night that reminded me of all the reasons why its never going to work with Scott, I just wrote and sent the following email:

Hey babe.

I don't think we should see each other anymore.

Why? Well, I'm sure that you don't really care, but because I'm a big fan of honesty, I'm gonna tell you.

I tried, Scott, I really, really tried to keep myself detached and my emotions in check. But I failed miserably. (For future refence- staying detached after being danced around the living room to John Legend is virtually impossible. Just letting you know.) The truth is- I'm falling in love with you. And it's becoming abundantly clear just how one-sided those feelings are. I can't and I don't want to deal with it anymore. I can only handle so much of your indifference.

Please, please believe me when I say that I don't want to hear from you anymore.

Thank you for some of the most perfect moments I have ever experienced.

Love-
Chloe

Things I am feeling:
Unbelievable relief- it's over and he can't hurt me anymore.
Unbelievable sadness- I've lost something that was occasionally pretty damn amazing.

But I'll never trust him, and he'll never be the man I want him to be. It's either hurt now, or hurt more later. I decided to finally be an adult and make the right fucking decision for once.

I just wish it didn't hurt so goddamn much.

Labels: Scott

I'm back from San Francisco! And I'm also suffering from some serious jet-lag.

Tonight I will be in attendance at Game 7 of the National League Championship Series. Because he is a heck of a baseball fan, I invited Marc. He initially declined, he already had plans for tonight and I did let him know very last minute. Then he called back and changed his mind. Then changed his mind again. Half an hour later, he called again. He wanted to go to the game. By the end of the 3rd phone call, he had changed his mind again and decided he couldn't go after all. As we hung up, I forbade him from calling me any more. I revoked the offer, so he would be unable to change his mind anymore.

Sheesh. He's like a fucking woman.

Scott and I spoke several times while I was out of town. He wants me to come and spend an entire weekend at his place. But, I've been so busy with various activities that it's impossible for me to give anyone that much of my time. So we scheduled it in advance for the weekend of November 4th. The possibility of this actually happening? Probably about 5%.

I also find myself in a very interesting position. I am no longer interested in sharing the very personal details of my sex life with Scott with other people. I know it sounds ridiculous and cheesy, I just want them to be moments that only the 2 of us share. I don't know if its because the moments themselves have become so personal and emotionally charged (instead of just being about physical) or because my feelings for him are changing. Either way, I'm scared out of my mind and almost assuredly am going to end up sobbing and broken-hearted.

I really look forward to that.

Labels: Scott

As I walked to the subway from Scott's house this morning, a few tears trickled down my cheek (which, incidentally was not enough of a deterrent to stop several men from wishing me a very good morning. Gotta love Queens!). It may have been due to lack of sleep.

Or it might have been due to the sheer frustration of being in a relationship that I can't control. A relationship strung together by disappointments and achingly perfect moments. A relationship filled with passion and comfort but plagued with distrust. A relationship that has left me feeling overflowing with love and out-of-control with rage.

Perfect Moment #1
Scott: You haven't even started packing for your trip yet have you?
Me: I threw a few things in, but it's tough to pack for a trip two days in advance, because half the things I need to pack, I'm going to use between now and Saturday. Like toiletries.
Scott: Toiletries?
Me: You know- shampoo, conditioner, makeup...
Scott: You know, babe, you don't need makeup. (He leans over and kisses me) I've seen you first thing in the morning, so I have the right to say, you're perfect just the way you are.

Perfect Moment #2
We had been in his room, each wearing one ear piece on his mp3 player, him wanting me to hear a song that always reminded him of me. Then we start talking about the new Justin Timberlake song, My Love, and Scott is talking about how he made up this dance to it. So we go into the living room so he can plug the mp3 player into his stereo and show me his dance. Keep in mind, it's 2 am, and I'm just wearing a skimpy little cotton nightgown and he has on only basketball shorts. After the song by JT is over, John Legend comes on. Scott pulls me close and sings in my ear as he dances me around the room. With my head buried in his neck and his arms wrapped oh so tightly around me, I worry that for as long as I live, I will never experience a moment more heartbreaking in its flawlessness.

Perfect Moment #3
Falling asleep in his arms. Waking up in his arms. Being in his arms every moment in between. Sleeping so tightly pressed against him, I can feel his breath against my forehead.

Perfect Moment #4
As I was leaving this morning, he stumbled out of bed and walked me to the door. He kissed me and told me to call him as soon as I got to work (just like always) and as I started to walk away, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back, nuzzling his nose in my neck and kissing me one last time with surprising intensity.

"Bye babe," he says as I walk out the door. Watching me until I'm down the stairs and out of sight.

Labels: Scott