- Mar 30, 2021
- 448
- 7,173
- 3,808
Caption:
I've been flipping through the many journals kept over the years, mulling over everything I've learned in the sweaty tangled limbs of humanity.
Here's a sweet little entry that I had almost forgotten about...
“I was pulled away from journaling by (shhhhh), who pursued me fairly directly and became my carver trip boyfriend for the week. He was very helpful and pretty loving. We had a nice, easy physical chemistry and enjoyed every evening together (except the night I landed). He almost told me he loved me. Although we are far too different to date, he made me feel really feminine, despite the bar and chain oil in my hair. He smelled good and he knew how to touch me. I think we both needed the attention.”
Recently he reached out to me, and I was fairly cold to him, which I'm regretting severely right now. The impression of that week way back when had faded in my memory, and the only part that remained was “too different to date,” which wasn't the spirit of the experience with him. This is why I like to write - it's freezes moments, thoughts, feelings in time.
I would text an apology, but 1:46 am only means one thing, right?
I've been flipping through the many journals kept over the years, mulling over everything I've learned in the sweaty tangled limbs of humanity.
Here's a sweet little entry that I had almost forgotten about...
“I was pulled away from journaling by (shhhhh), who pursued me fairly directly and became my carver trip boyfriend for the week. He was very helpful and pretty loving. We had a nice, easy physical chemistry and enjoyed every evening together (except the night I landed). He almost told me he loved me. Although we are far too different to date, he made me feel really feminine, despite the bar and chain oil in my hair. He smelled good and he knew how to touch me. I think we both needed the attention.”
Recently he reached out to me, and I was fairly cold to him, which I'm regretting severely right now. The impression of that week way back when had faded in my memory, and the only part that remained was “too different to date,” which wasn't the spirit of the experience with him. This is why I like to write - it's freezes moments, thoughts, feelings in time.
I would text an apology, but 1:46 am only means one thing, right?
Attachments
You don't have permission to view attachments. Attachments are hidden.