Powerless Life, Powerless Night
I have never really understood will power.
I understand boredom. I think it's a waste of time to think about how boring your imagination is. You're so dull, you can't entertain yourself, but I get it. I've had will power, and I like to think that once you've experienced something, it increases your knowledge of said something. But when I weigh out the benefits of telling yourself what you want, and then sticking to it, it falls short on the scale next to living in the moment.
Making crazy, off the wall, out of the blue, stupid decisions is part of being human, it's part of the human experience.
I can't understand why people don't want to make bad decisions.
It was one of "those days." The kind of emotional girl roller coaster days you'd see in a rom com where the girl is taking turns comforting herself in greasy french fries and Tom Hanks' love stories with whatever her name is with the orgasms, except there were drugs, and it wasn't sappy love stories, and I had a whole bottle of wine that I fully expected to finish on my own.
Then came the text.
It was of course proceeded by the messages from the love of my life, not my boyfriend, I didn't even know what a boyfriend was anymore, but the man I had been pursuing in a passive aggressive way for the previous three years. But I was handling our discussion, with grace if I may add. I wasn't flipping out like I usually do, or abruptly ending conversation with him because my weak hearted mind couldn't take it. I was talking to him like a real adult, because sometimes I am, and this wasn't an "I'm sad I don't have a boy in my life" kind of terror I was facing at the time.
I was facing the existential life crisis of figuring out how to do what I wanted to do, and by figuring it out I mean writing to do lists I never followed and completely ignoring responsibility.
Anyway, maybe if I hadn't have been messaging Australia, yes, no, I'm changing his name, all the names, maybe I wouldn't have given in, and maybe if the one best fuck I'd ever had, Adam, hadn't messaged me for the first time in months, maybe then I would have understood will power that night.
Sam - "Wanna hang tonight?"
"Ugh," I thought, "not again."
Ariel (that's me) - "Hmmm. I wouldn't be good company tonight I think. Sorry."
S - "Lol what do you mean?"
I really did not feel like telling the boy who dubbed me the love of his life what I was going through. In my mind that was leading him on, allowing him in gave him hope, right?
A - "Ugh. Whatever come if you wanna."
A - "Bring benadryll I have cat"
S - "I stay with them bennys haha"
S - "But im omw"
First of all, if he cared anything about me, he would have realized that I wanted to be alone. I shouldn't have even had to have the will power to stick with my shitty mood, but I guess when you're dealing with others that have no will power, it's a powerless fight.
I was already half way through a ten dollar, 1.5 liter bottle of wine, and I had been on the phone with my roommate, Christina, for an hour. She was away in Arkansas for work at a hotel bar where the bartender, Beau, was serving her free panty droppers. Christina was single too, newly single and ready to mingle, kind of. The man at the bar next to her had given her his room number when she was outside smoking. We were drunkenly discussing the possible outcomes of her night like teenage girls, if teenage girls were stoner drunkards with potty mouths debating whether or not this guy could possibly give her an std. She ended up slipping a note under his door that read "Have a good night, or cuddle?" with her room number and phone number.
Mayyybe not quite ready to mingle.
A - "Sam just pulled up. Damn. Shit. Fuck. I should get off the phone, right? I mean that's host like isn't it?"
C - "Is it? Yeah, I guess it probably is. I'll text you."
She was facing her own crisis and honestly, the idea of staying on the phone with her, in retrospect, should have been my choice, she was keeping me absent minded. I should have made up some lie to Sam, "Christina is going through a really rough time right now. Maybe you should go so I can comfort her."
But that would have been will power.
He walked in, we exchanged greetings, mine half hearted, then I walked to the patio.
"Can I get a drink?"
"Of course," I said. "Of course" really meaning of course he wouldn't come stocked and now I had to share my wine with someone. It wasn't even the fact that it was him. Someone was there and I wanted no one to be there. I like the presence of no one.
We went back and forth from the patio smoking cigarettes to watching tv and finishing the wine.
His pants' button had fallen in the toilet where he just peed. I gave him a hard time for getting his pee water on the toilet seat and my bathroom counter while he retrieved the button, not only because I always gave him a hard time but because, ew.
We were laugh walking back to the living room when he got close, puckered his lips in a lovesick way while slightly closing his eyes and leaned in to kiss me.
"Shit," I thought and swayed my head away.
"No Sam," I said firmly like I was talking to a dog and nonchalantly walked to the patio for a cig.
The sorrys and the tears began pouring from his face like a foul diseased dog that had just been hit by a car, he even told me I was the only woman he'd ever loved.
I wanted to help. I hate being on this end of unrequited love. My love is supposed to be unrequited, I'm not supposed to unrequite it. I wished I could fulfill the fantasy he had created of me, but I was in love with me. Well, and Australia, but that's another powerless story.
I had to save him again. We both knew it was a bad decision, but, in that moment, I had to feel a warm hard sad cock thrusting me to orgasm.
"Not yet. Not YET. NOT YET." I begged for a gentlemanly release, I wanted to walk through the door first while he opened it. I was just too much for him, and I don't say that out of narcissism, but experience.
His dribble stained the couch.
"Come on, I can go again. Let me pleasure you. I want you to feel it too."
"I've already felt it twice today. Want to see the squirt stains? I'm ready for bed."
I understand boredom. I think it's a waste of time to think about how boring your imagination is. You're so dull, you can't entertain yourself, but I get it. I've had will power, and I like to think that once you've experienced something, it increases your knowledge of said something. But when I weigh out the benefits of telling yourself what you want, and then sticking to it, it falls short on the scale next to living in the moment.
Making crazy, off the wall, out of the blue, stupid decisions is part of being human, it's part of the human experience.
I can't understand why people don't want to make bad decisions.
It was one of "those days." The kind of emotional girl roller coaster days you'd see in a rom com where the girl is taking turns comforting herself in greasy french fries and Tom Hanks' love stories with whatever her name is with the orgasms, except there were drugs, and it wasn't sappy love stories, and I had a whole bottle of wine that I fully expected to finish on my own.
Then came the text.
It was of course proceeded by the messages from the love of my life, not my boyfriend, I didn't even know what a boyfriend was anymore, but the man I had been pursuing in a passive aggressive way for the previous three years. But I was handling our discussion, with grace if I may add. I wasn't flipping out like I usually do, or abruptly ending conversation with him because my weak hearted mind couldn't take it. I was talking to him like a real adult, because sometimes I am, and this wasn't an "I'm sad I don't have a boy in my life" kind of terror I was facing at the time.
I was facing the existential life crisis of figuring out how to do what I wanted to do, and by figuring it out I mean writing to do lists I never followed and completely ignoring responsibility.
Anyway, maybe if I hadn't have been messaging Australia, yes, no, I'm changing his name, all the names, maybe I wouldn't have given in, and maybe if the one best fuck I'd ever had, Adam, hadn't messaged me for the first time in months, maybe then I would have understood will power that night.
Sam - "Wanna hang tonight?"
"Ugh," I thought, "not again."
Ariel (that's me) - "Hmmm. I wouldn't be good company tonight I think. Sorry."
S - "Lol what do you mean?"
I really did not feel like telling the boy who dubbed me the love of his life what I was going through. In my mind that was leading him on, allowing him in gave him hope, right?
A - "Ugh. Whatever come if you wanna."
A - "Bring benadryll I have cat"
S - "I stay with them bennys haha"
S - "But im omw"
First of all, if he cared anything about me, he would have realized that I wanted to be alone. I shouldn't have even had to have the will power to stick with my shitty mood, but I guess when you're dealing with others that have no will power, it's a powerless fight.
I was already half way through a ten dollar, 1.5 liter bottle of wine, and I had been on the phone with my roommate, Christina, for an hour. She was away in Arkansas for work at a hotel bar where the bartender, Beau, was serving her free panty droppers. Christina was single too, newly single and ready to mingle, kind of. The man at the bar next to her had given her his room number when she was outside smoking. We were drunkenly discussing the possible outcomes of her night like teenage girls, if teenage girls were stoner drunkards with potty mouths debating whether or not this guy could possibly give her an std. She ended up slipping a note under his door that read "Have a good night, or cuddle?" with her room number and phone number.
Mayyybe not quite ready to mingle.
A - "Sam just pulled up. Damn. Shit. Fuck. I should get off the phone, right? I mean that's host like isn't it?"
C - "Is it? Yeah, I guess it probably is. I'll text you."
She was facing her own crisis and honestly, the idea of staying on the phone with her, in retrospect, should have been my choice, she was keeping me absent minded. I should have made up some lie to Sam, "Christina is going through a really rough time right now. Maybe you should go so I can comfort her."
But that would have been will power.
He walked in, we exchanged greetings, mine half hearted, then I walked to the patio.
"Can I get a drink?"
"Of course," I said. "Of course" really meaning of course he wouldn't come stocked and now I had to share my wine with someone. It wasn't even the fact that it was him. Someone was there and I wanted no one to be there. I like the presence of no one.
We went back and forth from the patio smoking cigarettes to watching tv and finishing the wine.
His pants' button had fallen in the toilet where he just peed. I gave him a hard time for getting his pee water on the toilet seat and my bathroom counter while he retrieved the button, not only because I always gave him a hard time but because, ew.
We were laugh walking back to the living room when he got close, puckered his lips in a lovesick way while slightly closing his eyes and leaned in to kiss me.
"Shit," I thought and swayed my head away.
"No Sam," I said firmly like I was talking to a dog and nonchalantly walked to the patio for a cig.
The sorrys and the tears began pouring from his face like a foul diseased dog that had just been hit by a car, he even told me I was the only woman he'd ever loved.
I wanted to help. I hate being on this end of unrequited love. My love is supposed to be unrequited, I'm not supposed to unrequite it. I wished I could fulfill the fantasy he had created of me, but I was in love with me. Well, and Australia, but that's another powerless story.
I had to save him again. We both knew it was a bad decision, but, in that moment, I had to feel a warm hard sad cock thrusting me to orgasm.
"Not yet. Not YET. NOT YET." I begged for a gentlemanly release, I wanted to walk through the door first while he opened it. I was just too much for him, and I don't say that out of narcissism, but experience.
His dribble stained the couch.
"Come on, I can go again. Let me pleasure you. I want you to feel it too."
"I've already felt it twice today. Want to see the squirt stains? I'm ready for bed."
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