Fed up

If he has to decide how to make my laptop table, it takes him a lifetime. I wish he would decide on it the way he’s never without weed or juice.

If he has to decide what we’re eating (because we’re always cooking and fucking), it takes him forever and just stands like a lost child in front of me at the supermarket.

If there’s a strike with the trains tomorrow but not the buses, he says Well. I leave him on read. He comes back with: I guess not then. And I think to myself, Do I care?

If he doesn’t have the motivation to figure it out, neither do I.

I said ok.

That’s the three different men I fuck on the regular (most regular one being the one in the middle), and isn’t it funny how all three are terrified of doing the wrong thing?

Where was the first one’s resolve when he thought breaking up with me over the phone was a good idea?

The second one…that’s his only annoying flaw, I think. For now. We don’t really talk about ourselves that much for me to be further annoyed with him.

And the third one…where’s his indecision when it comes not thrusting harder because I’ve repeatedly told him he’s huge and that it’s cumbersome? Where’s his desire to not let everyone know his desires when it comes to telling me how much he’d love to get a blowjob?

Performative indecision. But when it comes to what they want, they’re not indecisive at all. It was all about the fear of rejection. Which, in the first one’s case, he knew he loved weed and not being challenged to grow up better than he liked me. And the third one loves to fuck, but it’s in a huge part limited by not “declaring” it too much?

That’s fucking weak. I despise weakness. Only if I say I wanna go would he check out alternate routes? Would he fucking drop DEAD if he expressed a desire to make it work before I say something? His dick will be up if I make it there. But gawd forbid he declares first he wants to make it work despite the strike.

I just fucking said ok. Not in the habit to fight to see someone that so fucking easily gives up. I make my passions known.

And despise people too chickenshit to do the same. I wonder if he expected for me to aCtIvElY try to make it work. You can’t figure it out for yourself buddy, then you don’t get your dick wet.

He figured it out.

We’re meeting tomorrow.

If there’s one mood buster, that’s lack of fieriness. What sad times we live in now that men need to be comforted into saying: wAiT, lEt Me FiGuRe OuT. So I don’t.

Here’s to hoping one day I exclusively fuck men, instead of fucking boys.

Hormonally yours,

L.