reality checks for delusional sociopaths.

This week I had an awful feeling that my romantic life was spinning out of my control, and that simply won’t do. Unfortunately this has led to a few smatterings of self-hatred, but I’m working them out on my own.

The main guy in my life at the moment is J; I’ve written about him previously. It is my mission currently to cut him out of my life because I think that that’s the best thing for me to do right now.

The saddest thing about my current state of affairs is that I am wholly unable to take my own advice. If I were a third party looking in on this situation, I’d think I was a complete fool, and my advice would be to get as far away from J as possible. As of now, that is what I’m trying to do.

J and I met on Tinder – an app for which I have nothing but contempt now - despite being friends on facebook beforehand. The sad and tawdry events that passed between us have been outlined in my other posts, so I won’t embarrass myself by rehashing them all over again. Since we met up last, J and I have hardly spoken. Aside from a few boring snapchats, there has been no contact, yet still I yearn for him to talk to me – to send me a snapchat, regardless of how boring it is, just because I want his attention, because I like it. I am under no impression that he cares for me, or truly likes me, but there is still a tiny, idiotic corner of my brain that wonders what it would be like if we were together – would it be fun? Would I meet his flatmates or his parents? Could he fall in love with me? The answers to all of these futile questions is no; a hearty, resounding no because he sees me as nothing more than a human fleshlight useful for nothing more than an hour’s entertainment, if that. When he wants me, not a day goes by where I don’t get a message asking if I’m busy, or a dickpic illustrating in no uncertain terms what J is offering. In the immediate aftermath of our meetings, or when there is no immediate opportunity for the two of us to meet, he doesn’t message or snapchat me at all (unless he wants nudes from me to whack off to) which only serves to reinforce the feeling that he just doesn’t care. 

So, I devised a plan. A plan which is completely necessary because otherwise I will continue to act without control. I need to help myself. I wrote out 'rules' which detail how I am not allowed to send or reply to any communication from him, I can't look at his facebook, his instagram or his 'mystory' on snapchat. That's pretty much the long and short of our relationship really and so that's the entirety of my rules. I presume it will be difficult not to indulge myself by replying so this provides me with a challenge over the Easter break, and all being well, I won't care about him when I return to Uni. Fingers crossed.

He has no idea about it. I can't be bothered explaining my feelings to him because I honestly don't think he'd care one little bit, so I'll save my breath. To be frank, he probably won't care. I want him to, I really do but I know he won't - he might pursue me for a while but he'll tire and move onto something/someone else and we can continue our lives as normal. And we'll all live happily ever after. The End.

The reason I'm doing this is because I feel I have to. I've fallen too far into this self-indulgent chasm and I need to pull myself from it because when it all comes falling down around me, I'll be the only one getting hurt. And as much as I've told myself not to do X, Y, and Z, I've not listened, and I've carried on regardless. That's why I've written out my rules and my intentions, so that it is both tangible and visible and so that I'll stick to it. It's going to be hard but I want to overcome, truly I do. I'll let you know if it works.

obviously I want J to realise he's head over heels in love with me and fight tooth and nail for my heart. This is why I'm a delusional sociopath because I know this won't ever happen in a million years.

a girl thing?

An apology has to be made.

Last Saturday night, I did something I'm not entirely proud of. I met up with J again. 

We had been snapchatting (mostly dick pics) and messaging, he was always horny and wanted to meet up with me (in the dead of night when there's no one around), and I was flattered I guess: someone wanted me, only as a human flesh light, but still. I fobbed him off as I wanted to, claiming I had too much work to even think about meeting him, I even sent him a long message explaining why I couldn't see him...

"Hey :) I'm not sure that meeting up is a good idea at the moment. Even though I like you, I still feel like I don't know you, so I feel a bit weird fucking you (I know it makes no sense). I'm not really looking for a casual thing either atm, I'd rather go without than have to deal with any awkwardness that might occur. So, I'm sorry, I thought I could do this but after thinking about it I've realised that I can't right now, I'm sure we'll see each other out at some point, and if we do then maybe we could hook up, but until then I'm not sure this whole thing is a good idea."

Cue lots of begging from him, and the deed is done. 

But then I had to ruin it all by getting drunk. 

I messaged him asking if he was going out, he said he wasn't because all of his friends had gone home. He was in his flat by himself, he told me I could come over, I told him I'd message him later and he was excited. 

Then, on the walk down to the club, I realised that I couldn't be arsed going, I hadn't the money to spend, and I had a better offer. I made my apologies and went to his.

He let me into the building and led me to the lift, once inside we were kissing, his hands were everywhere, on my arse, my tits, hanging onto my waist. We got to his flat and he took me to his room, complimented him on his iMac, I'd always liked them, then we were kissing again, I liked the kissing - he asked what I wanted to do and, like a good girl, I dropped to my knees and sucked him off. Delirious with gratitude, he led me to the bed where we kissed some more while his hand invaded my underwear. He managed to finger me this time, I was quite wet, but I still didn't come. He tried making use of my clitoris but I'm not quite sure he knew where it was. He asked to finger my arse, I said no. He asked to fuck me, and again, I said no. I put my dress on, he gave me a hug (completely infuriating - he had his fingers inside of me 2 minutes ago?) and I left.

Now there is silence. Not a comfortable silence, an ominous silence where I wonder if I've done something wrong. There are no snapchats and no messages. Last week there wasn't a day we didn't message or snapchat one another and now there hasn't been one where we have! It's ridiculous.

Also, I saw him out at B on Monday and he blanked me, admittedly I blanked him aswell but he could have come over and said hi. 

The thing is, I don't like him. I think it's fun and cute and sexy when we're together, and I like getting his messages, but I can't say I want to be with him, or a want a steady fwb situation with him. I don't know what I want.

an avalanche of d.

STOP THE PRESSES... I think I might be desirable.

At various points in the last decade, I have had various crushes on various people. Guys I sat next to in Maths, the guy who showed me to the changing room in Jack Wills, even friend's brothers. I would see them, get to know them, begin to like them and then do precisely nothing about it (fear of rejection, obviously). Because of this, I managed to form the idea that guys just don't like me. I think I'm pretty, I'm definitely capable of making myself so, and I have a good sense of humour and a great personality, yet there was not one guy who liked me enough to think twice about me (I presume). 

I carried this belief through with me to Uni - where faithful, loving relationships are like gold dust, and expected nothing.

That's not what I got though.
J is back on the scene trying his hardest, yet again, to get into my pants. He succeeded. Last Saturday, after a heavy pre-drinking session, we set off to B. On the way down, however, I changed my mind - why spend money I need to save just to dance around a darkened village hall amongst people I probably don't like? I messaged J telling him I was coming over and he ran down to open the door for me. It played along familiarly; making out and over-zealous tit grabs in the lift, a blow job and an unsuccessful attempt to come on my part. The light was on though, so progress! I've now been plunged into silence again - he's doubtlessly had his fill of me for the time being, so it's all quiet on the western front.

FH has a friend in second year who lets us go round to his house and smoke weed in his living room, I'll call him X. Before we were properly introduced, X and I, he tried to dance with me in the club and I had to reject him because I was sober and in a bad temper. Regardless of this, he seems to like me - FH, LJ and JJ have commented on it; the way he always asks if I'm going over to the house, the way he looks at me and talks to me. It is what it is. X is cute, and if he finds the balls to talk to me, who knows what will happen.

Then there's VB, the guy with whom I went for a drink ages ago. I had to send him a 'Dear John' unfortunately, except it wasn't a heartfelt letter sent to a war zone, it was a long-ish text from my phone to his explaining how much work I had and that boys weren't a priority (utter bullshit, I think they always have been). He accepted it and I've not seen him since, although the City is a small one so I probably will soon.

R is making himself known again and we've reached a new plateau in our relationship (omg yay) - we exchanged snapchat usernames - wonderful! More benign chat but this time on a different social media platform! I don't hold out much hope.

There is someone worth mentioning, although I don't know yet what I think of him. I'll refer to him as the Cypriot. He's a friend of X's and FH's who gets high with us sometimes. He's foreign and exotic but completely lovely. He has a cute accent and a lovely, dopey smile. The way he runs his hands through his hair is hot as well.

and that's really it, as well as bland attempts at being chatted up in the club (which don't really bear mentioning) that is an appraisal of my love life at the present moment. Some of you might read all of this and think "well, there isn't exactly a mile-long queue for this girl" - at which point I would be inclined to agree, however, it is a queue, and the only one I've been at the front of. Ever.