saturday night. damn.
spent the night at r’s last night unexpectedly. good. awesome, really. kinda exactly what i wanted. social shit + drinking + getting him alone at his place and fooling around for hours on end. social shit was done around 2 and we finally went to sleep around 4 or 4:30. blowing him is awesome. knowing he still wants to fuck and thinks about it often is flattering and thrilling. hearing him say “so i can do it with my dominant hand this time” in reference to finger-fucking me was unexpected, full of promise with a hint of wordplay, and for all of these reasons very thrilling.
(oh, and that was AFTER he came over straight after work asking for cuddles to cope with unexpected short-notice work bullshit. we watched live music performances on youtube and he tried to talk to me about projects and meetup and i was bad at keeping the conversation going but i showed him my unfinished giant plush squid and we made out some, so it wasn’t a total loss. yeah uh hey babe, sorry for being an empty thoughtless failure of a conversational partner. sorry it’s probably disappointing and boring to try to get to know me since everything entertaining about me is fake/copied. except my puns. those are real.)
so, right, sleep around 4:30. woke up at one point afraid i was going to have to throw up but it turned out to be just some difficult, prolonged gas, i guess. which is still extra tricky to deal with when i shaved (finally) on thursday. probably woke up for good somewhere in the 9ish hour. such good spooning. such a comfy bed. so novel to look at his face as much as i want while he’s sleeping.
aaaaand from like 9:30 to 2p we were fooling around again. listening to childish gambino stations and kanye and getting eaten out and talking about “depeche mode-inspired activities”. i didn’t quite get it right when he was talking abt his, i tried to turn his thing about casual domming into an immediate thing and idt it even registered to him as anything other than pushiness. and then i thoughtlessly constructed an example scenario that directly specifically included the thing he’d just said he didn’t want. ugh.
i’m too tired to write much more now, but i just…. i hope that i don’t wake up tomorrow sick of myself and all my relationships. it makes sense if so, but i’m hoping that maybe continuing to think about everything i just did, and trying to integrate it so i can do better next time, will alleviate that nausea and rejection and whiplash between being around people and being alone.
hey body sorry for all the wild stress, have a scone and a double sleep, ok?