Tonight I was sitting in my little room, super annoyed and irritable, really needing to get laid, and just pissed off at him down, by default.
It’s been one of those weeks, when the lack of intimacy in our relationship is really bothering me. And the thing is, I’m not really going to do anything about it- the thing is, I don’t really want to sleep with him. It just gives me anxiety.
It’s such a muddled situation. We really have no chemistry, it’s pretty pathetic. He obviously has deep seated mother issues, and I can’t blame him- she’s a fucking emotionally abusive nutcase. Other than that, I’m not sure what his deal is- he just lays there, he’s always drunk…he’s just lame. He doesn’t seem to know how to fuck. And he always wants to do anal. Whhhyyyy. I’m not totally against anal, but it’s not something you can just jump into, you know? Like, maybe you had beans for lunch, and timing is not good, you know what I mean?? Maybe he’s secretly gay. Could be.
So I was sitting upstairs, smoking a bowl, and he calls up to me, “Hey, you want to eat dinner?” And although initially annoyed, a part of me was happy that he was calling to me. Thank you, Daddy Issues! What would life be like without a guy downstairs?
So are we just all slaves to our fucking psychologies?
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