Okay. So I've been procrastinating a little on the Sock Diaries portion of all of this. Last we spoke about my love life, I was telling you about a new woman in my life. Between her wanting to avoid being called out in my public blog (though I assured her that it was read by about all of ten people, of whom I probably know one... that one being her...) and me living a relatively boring life, I've been wanting to avoid this a little.
My life has become pretty routine as of late. No exciting drama from my break-up, no exciting army stuff to report. I get up, I work out with my unit, I shower, I go to work, I get off work I work out at the gym, I come home I watch whatever show I still have stored on my hard drive that I haven't expended, and at the end of the day, I spend time with my new lady friend.
To be honest, things aren't as simple as that on that front. The truth is, we were both broken from break-ups when we came together, and despite the fact that she's helped me get over my ex, she's still having a few issues. She told me recently that she still loves him. That was... not really a surprise. Hopefully, soon, I'll be able to use my time off to give her what she needs. I haven't really been able to do that. We're not diving into a serious relationship, or anything right now, especially with one another. The timing isn't right, and I messed things up before with bad timing. No. We're two broken birds that would only fall faster together
For a while this was mostly about trying to fill that void that was left by my ex, seeing as how writing and working out can only last until about 8PM every damn day. But now, neither one of us knows where the hell it's going. I've begun to really like her. She's challenging and smart and just the right amount of irritating that makes me want to come back for more. She knows me in a way that's more than just knowing what I like and dislike, but why. She digs into that deeper side of me that only comes out in my writing. She's that other side of me that kicks back and tells me to be smarter. The side that says I'm good but I can be better...
*Ahem*
Anyway, back to the point. There's the gym. There's work. And there's a girl. Next, I go to Honduras and we see if I can stay out of trouble in Central America.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Into the Minds of Men... Pt. 1
What Men Want
What I am here to do for you today, is to give you some insight into the minds of men, as you should have already concluded from the title. Now you may wonder why I would be sharing info on what happens in guys minds for a few different reasons, one being, that my target audience is usually men. My rebuttal to that is that you may have a target but you won’t always hit it. Another reason would be why would I be sharing these trade secrets? Won’t I be breaking articles of some kind of bro code? The answer is that these aren’t trade secrets, they’re just little bits of information that women may never have perceived without a little help, which answers the second question, no, I am well within the confines of the bro code. Another reason you may wonder why I would be writing this is that you believe there is only one thing in the mind of a man: SEXSEXSEX. To which I would say to you… “I hope you wake up with your face on fire.” I would say it.
What Men Want
Men want something from a woman every time they get into any kind of relationship with a woman, whether it’s a one-night stand (for some quick self-confidence boosting, and stress relieving). In a long term relationship, or a marriage, a man wants one thing over all. That thing is to feel like a king. We want to know that when we’re around the woman we chose to be with, our word is law, our whim is command, and our will is the only way. This doesn’t necessarily mean we want blind obedience, but it means that around our significant other, things go OUR WAY. We want to be seen as the strongest creature to grace the face of the earth, the only one who can solve problems, “He Who Knows.” Men like to believe that when push comes to shove, he can conquer any feat that poses threat to his own.
What is often missed in a man being a good king, is having a good queen. He needs a queen as much as, if not more than he needs a kingdom. A king needs a queen that will go down in the sinking ship with him, still insisting that he was right, and the whole world was wrong, as they drift to the bottom of the ocean. He needs a queen who will agree wholeheartedly that down is up, and up is down, if it supports her king’s theory. Kings are nearly spineless without a good queen supporting him.
The king theory fits most heterosexual males that usually do more with their day than sit on a couch and whine about having 700 channels on TV with nothing to watch. But of course, as I must always do, I will include my disclaimer: This is in no way supposed to umbrella every straight male you will ever meet, but it should cure that rash, I mean cover just enough, like a good pair of panties.
What I am here to do for you today, is to give you some insight into the minds of men, as you should have already concluded from the title. Now you may wonder why I would be sharing info on what happens in guys minds for a few different reasons, one being, that my target audience is usually men. My rebuttal to that is that you may have a target but you won’t always hit it. Another reason would be why would I be sharing these trade secrets? Won’t I be breaking articles of some kind of bro code? The answer is that these aren’t trade secrets, they’re just little bits of information that women may never have perceived without a little help, which answers the second question, no, I am well within the confines of the bro code. Another reason you may wonder why I would be writing this is that you believe there is only one thing in the mind of a man: SEXSEXSEX. To which I would say to you… “I hope you wake up with your face on fire.” I would say it.
What Men Want
Men want something from a woman every time they get into any kind of relationship with a woman, whether it’s a one-night stand (for some quick self-confidence boosting, and stress relieving). In a long term relationship, or a marriage, a man wants one thing over all. That thing is to feel like a king. We want to know that when we’re around the woman we chose to be with, our word is law, our whim is command, and our will is the only way. This doesn’t necessarily mean we want blind obedience, but it means that around our significant other, things go OUR WAY. We want to be seen as the strongest creature to grace the face of the earth, the only one who can solve problems, “He Who Knows.” Men like to believe that when push comes to shove, he can conquer any feat that poses threat to his own.
What is often missed in a man being a good king, is having a good queen. He needs a queen as much as, if not more than he needs a kingdom. A king needs a queen that will go down in the sinking ship with him, still insisting that he was right, and the whole world was wrong, as they drift to the bottom of the ocean. He needs a queen who will agree wholeheartedly that down is up, and up is down, if it supports her king’s theory. Kings are nearly spineless without a good queen supporting him.
The king theory fits most heterosexual males that usually do more with their day than sit on a couch and whine about having 700 channels on TV with nothing to watch. But of course, as I must always do, I will include my disclaimer: This is in no way supposed to umbrella every straight male you will ever meet, but it should cure that rash, I mean cover just enough, like a good pair of panties.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Why Men Do Men Cheat?
"Why do men cheat?" The age old question is asked. Normally, I would go off in some tangent about how it should be "Why do people cheat?" because women, of course, have their bouts of infidelity. But this time, I will actually focus on the male side of fault. "Why do men cheat?" I can answer this question for the vast majority of straight men out there, who have cheated on someone they love, whether it be wife, or girlfriend. There are millions of broken hearted sweethearts out there who have the same questions. Victims of the same domestic crime.
Why.
Do.
Men.
Cheat?
Why would a guy seemingly go out of his way to throw everything he's built with someone in a relationship away for some random, unreliable piece of cheap ass? Well, one thing to be cleared up is that he's not thinking about throwing anything away. In fact, he's not thinking about you at all. When he's face first in some strange, purple-pube dyed muff, your love is not giving you a moment of thought. But the question is, do you really want him to think about you while he's waist deep in the fat nurse from next door? Honestly, that would mean he has some kind of strange comtempt for you that he wishes, and therefore initiated, that you were someone else. No, your man paying you any mind. At that moment it's about pussy.
Do you think that cheating has something to do with love? Well then you're an idiot, stop reading my literature now. The most loving man in the world can cheat on his wife, because as I said before, he won't be thinking about his wife while he catches herpes from the 53 year old hooker from the liquor store three blocks away. There is a moment, though, where you, the betrayed, are actually thought of. And it's right before the deed is initiated. When he gets that call that it's time, he gets things together and wonders if he should go with it, weighs the level of risk of getting caught, (huge factor) and, very briefly, what it would be like to trade the significant other in for the sideline girl.
Men are created with a spare almost everything. spare ball, spare eye, spare hand, one tongue, but a bunch of teeth. The most dangerous spare is the spare brain. The other factor in cheating, that every woman likes to accuse of being the number one factor in all cases, "The Other Head." The "Other Head" contains another brain, that was given the power to override all logic functions in the male brain. So many times it's all just about getting laid. Getting something "different." Does it really make sense? No. Not one bit. In reality, well, scientifically, a woman's orgasm is on average much more powerful than that of a man, but notoriously hard to accomplish by vaginal intercourse alone. When it comes down to it, no matter what position you get in, it's still an in and out motion until ejaculation. A male can't reach sexual satisfaction without orgasm, as a woman can. In most cases, males get much less out of the trade-off. So why would a man want something different, if he knows, in essence, it's almost the same thing?
Cheat. Ok, I was trying to do this whole thing where I start every paragraph with a word until the first word of every paragraph collectively read "Why do men cheat." In reality, it's very difficult to inconspicuously start a sentence with a verb, so I just put it there. It's done. Get over it. The last peice to the heart-breaking puzzle is... greed. The number One reason men cheat, is because they're being greedy. There's nothing wrong with what they have, despite their desparate attempts at justifying things by blaming "Staleness in their sexual relationship." They just want more. The ice cream and the cake. Greed.
Why.
Do.
Men.
Cheat?
Why would a guy seemingly go out of his way to throw everything he's built with someone in a relationship away for some random, unreliable piece of cheap ass? Well, one thing to be cleared up is that he's not thinking about throwing anything away. In fact, he's not thinking about you at all. When he's face first in some strange, purple-pube dyed muff, your love is not giving you a moment of thought. But the question is, do you really want him to think about you while he's waist deep in the fat nurse from next door? Honestly, that would mean he has some kind of strange comtempt for you that he wishes, and therefore initiated, that you were someone else. No, your man paying you any mind. At that moment it's about pussy.
Do you think that cheating has something to do with love? Well then you're an idiot, stop reading my literature now. The most loving man in the world can cheat on his wife, because as I said before, he won't be thinking about his wife while he catches herpes from the 53 year old hooker from the liquor store three blocks away. There is a moment, though, where you, the betrayed, are actually thought of. And it's right before the deed is initiated. When he gets that call that it's time, he gets things together and wonders if he should go with it, weighs the level of risk of getting caught, (huge factor) and, very briefly, what it would be like to trade the significant other in for the sideline girl.
Men are created with a spare almost everything. spare ball, spare eye, spare hand, one tongue, but a bunch of teeth. The most dangerous spare is the spare brain. The other factor in cheating, that every woman likes to accuse of being the number one factor in all cases, "The Other Head." The "Other Head" contains another brain, that was given the power to override all logic functions in the male brain. So many times it's all just about getting laid. Getting something "different." Does it really make sense? No. Not one bit. In reality, well, scientifically, a woman's orgasm is on average much more powerful than that of a man, but notoriously hard to accomplish by vaginal intercourse alone. When it comes down to it, no matter what position you get in, it's still an in and out motion until ejaculation. A male can't reach sexual satisfaction without orgasm, as a woman can. In most cases, males get much less out of the trade-off. So why would a man want something different, if he knows, in essence, it's almost the same thing?
Cheat. Ok, I was trying to do this whole thing where I start every paragraph with a word until the first word of every paragraph collectively read "Why do men cheat." In reality, it's very difficult to inconspicuously start a sentence with a verb, so I just put it there. It's done. Get over it. The last peice to the heart-breaking puzzle is... greed. The number One reason men cheat, is because they're being greedy. There's nothing wrong with what they have, despite their desparate attempts at justifying things by blaming "Staleness in their sexual relationship." They just want more. The ice cream and the cake. Greed.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
The Perfect Girl...
Every guy goes out and seeks that perfect companion. We find them in all kinds of shapes, sizes and forms. Sometimes the perfect companion is a dog; silent, obedient, and always happy to see us. Sometimes the perfect companion is a guy friend, someone to make jokes and play around with, someone who's down to back you up when you're in need, or to calm you down when you're about to do something stupid. Sometimes the perfect companion is a pen and a notepad, or blog (don't look at me, I have friends...), or sketchpad, or canvas, somewhere to get it all out without judgement or discourse of any kind.
When it all boils down, though, we all seek out that dream girl. We come up with this picture of what she looks, smells, feels, sounds, and sometimes tastes like. We could tell you what she acts like, what she likes (it's usually just a list of what we like) and dislike (the same in reverse), what scares her, even her background. In this dance we call "The Chase", we have a lot of time to dream. We look for parts of that perfect girl in every girl we're with. "She would have her smile," "her lips," "her laugh," "her ass, no wait her ass". No matter what, we're always looking for her in each woman we see and pursue.
But the truth is, we know we'll never end up with that Call of Duty-playing, sandwich-making, nymphomaniac, space-giving, attention-giving, unbelievable-bodied, perfect-complexioned goddess we imagined was just waiting for us to save from all those uninteresting, wrong penis sized (too big or too small or too curved, we've got the Goldilocks combo), not as good as us guys out there vying for her attention. We know she's too good to be true. We know if we ever found her, we'd probably just end up fucking it up by not being good enough.
Actually that's not why we will/should never find that dream girl. It's because in a dream, there's no pooping, no farting, no puking, no looking at other guys, no stupid questions, no periods, no pregnancy scares, no emotional breakdowns, no annoying female friends, no clinginess, no waiting an hour after you were supposed to leave because she just started putting on her make-up, no crying inexplicably and stubbornly insisting that it stay "inexplicated". In the dream, there's no mirror, and there's no smoke. There's only magic.
But all hope isn't lost, dear reader. You can still end up getting your happily ever after. Minus the ever. Fact is, we usually end up with someone. Someone who we're perfectly happy with for 5 years or 55. She doesn't play Call of Duty, but loves watching you play through. And asks you funny questions like "Why don't you use that blow up thingy you had last time?" Or she hates when you go to those football games with "all those big guys and you're the tiniest one out there. You're going to get hurt." But she nurses your wounds and celebrates with you every time you come home with a win. She takes forever to put on her makeup, but as soon as you see her when she's done, all of your impatience goes out of the window. Don't worry my friend. You're going to run into woman after woman after girl after girl. They'll all have something or another that your last one didn't have, but one day you'll find the one. She might not be your dream girl, but she's perfect for you.
When it all boils down, though, we all seek out that dream girl. We come up with this picture of what she looks, smells, feels, sounds, and sometimes tastes like. We could tell you what she acts like, what she likes (it's usually just a list of what we like) and dislike (the same in reverse), what scares her, even her background. In this dance we call "The Chase", we have a lot of time to dream. We look for parts of that perfect girl in every girl we're with. "She would have her smile," "her lips," "her laugh," "her ass, no wait her ass". No matter what, we're always looking for her in each woman we see and pursue.
But the truth is, we know we'll never end up with that Call of Duty-playing, sandwich-making, nymphomaniac, space-giving, attention-giving, unbelievable-bodied, perfect-complexioned goddess we imagined was just waiting for us to save from all those uninteresting, wrong penis sized (too big or too small or too curved, we've got the Goldilocks combo), not as good as us guys out there vying for her attention. We know she's too good to be true. We know if we ever found her, we'd probably just end up fucking it up by not being good enough.
Actually that's not why we will/should never find that dream girl. It's because in a dream, there's no pooping, no farting, no puking, no looking at other guys, no stupid questions, no periods, no pregnancy scares, no emotional breakdowns, no annoying female friends, no clinginess, no waiting an hour after you were supposed to leave because she just started putting on her make-up, no crying inexplicably and stubbornly insisting that it stay "inexplicated". In the dream, there's no mirror, and there's no smoke. There's only magic.
But all hope isn't lost, dear reader. You can still end up getting your happily ever after. Minus the ever. Fact is, we usually end up with someone. Someone who we're perfectly happy with for 5 years or 55. She doesn't play Call of Duty, but loves watching you play through. And asks you funny questions like "Why don't you use that blow up thingy you had last time?" Or she hates when you go to those football games with "all those big guys and you're the tiniest one out there. You're going to get hurt." But she nurses your wounds and celebrates with you every time you come home with a win. She takes forever to put on her makeup, but as soon as you see her when she's done, all of your impatience goes out of the window. Don't worry my friend. You're going to run into woman after woman after girl after girl. They'll all have something or another that your last one didn't have, but one day you'll find the one. She might not be your dream girl, but she's perfect for you.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Social networking...
There's something strange happening to our first world country. I have more interaction with people I care about through computers and mini-telephonetic computers (cell phones), than I've had in person. I have a bit of an excuse, I'm away from home and I don't want to lose touch with the people I care about. The problem I see is that so many people spend so much time seeking out a connection through status updates and tweets that they stop putting forth the effort to actually go out and see someone in person. No one tries to go over someone's house and party with some friends in person. It seems like genuine friendship is being replaced by video chatting and instant messaging. Even online dating has boomed recently.
Now I know that sometimes it's just not worth getting off the couch. Sometimes it's not even worth getting out of bed, to tell someone they're wrong, or to go flirt with that chick you knew from high school who managed to make it past the get fat or get pregnant-challenge that it seems like every single girl from our high schools encounters (and most fail this challenge miserably). I mean, honestly, sometimes you are better off staying inside and not spending all of the money you don't really have, on mistakes, rejections, regrets, and hangovers, but we need to learn how to stop being so averse to risk. Let's take a night out to hang with family and friends. Let's go get that workout we've been postponing for Call of Duty. Let's actually try to have sex with another human being instead of settling for porn and a Kleenex.
I sound like a really old man. Really, really old. I need to go get laid...
Now I know that sometimes it's just not worth getting off the couch. Sometimes it's not even worth getting out of bed, to tell someone they're wrong, or to go flirt with that chick you knew from high school who managed to make it past the get fat or get pregnant-challenge that it seems like every single girl from our high schools encounters (and most fail this challenge miserably). I mean, honestly, sometimes you are better off staying inside and not spending all of the money you don't really have, on mistakes, rejections, regrets, and hangovers, but we need to learn how to stop being so averse to risk. Let's take a night out to hang with family and friends. Let's go get that workout we've been postponing for Call of Duty. Let's actually try to have sex with another human being instead of settling for porn and a Kleenex.
I sound like a really old man. Really, really old. I need to go get laid...
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
What men want...
Men are fairly simple creatures. We don't try and make things glamorize our wants and needs. We want/need sex with women (usually). We want food. We want sleep. We want to be in charge. This is your stereotypical guy. When it comes to women, we have more and more things in common among us. When you ask us what's on our minds, if we like you, we'll make something up. If we don't we'll tell you the truth. (The answer is nothing. The answer is always nothing.)
So let me ruin something for ladies out there. This is something you women might not want to accept.
MEN ARE NOT COMPLICATED. We don't have any complicated hopes and dreams. Most of us don't even have a dream job. Our dream is literally: Good job, hot wife... money, son that kind of looks like us, and a beautiful daughter who becomes the richest nun in history. Not complicated and nor is it impossible. It's very possible.
We also dream of our wives being the very complicated, needy creatures you are. Controlling everything that we don't want to. We don't need the white picket fence, that thing could be a moat with alligator dragons, or a stone wall, as long as we have a yard. We don't need curtains as long as you don't have a rule against our neighbors seeing us have sex.
I wish I had more to write here, but like I said, it's not that complicated.
So let me ruin something for ladies out there. This is something you women might not want to accept.
MEN ARE NOT COMPLICATED. We don't have any complicated hopes and dreams. Most of us don't even have a dream job. Our dream is literally: Good job, hot wife... money, son that kind of looks like us, and a beautiful daughter who becomes the richest nun in history. Not complicated and nor is it impossible. It's very possible.
We also dream of our wives being the very complicated, needy creatures you are. Controlling everything that we don't want to. We don't need the white picket fence, that thing could be a moat with alligator dragons, or a stone wall, as long as we have a yard. We don't need curtains as long as you don't have a rule against our neighbors seeing us have sex.
I wish I had more to write here, but like I said, it's not that complicated.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Broken Mirror...
People often blame the media for their self-esteem problems. They say the media dangles supermodels in their faces on ads and in commercials. They say that this is what the media is "brainwashing" them to believe is beauty and sexy. But that's not true. The media only uses things you already think is attractive, or what's attractive to the mass majority to get the message across that their product can either contribute to you being attractive, or in the case of fast food, that their product isn't a direct link to unattractiveness.
At no point do they tell you in Victoria's Secret commercials "Get slimmer to fit into the new fall line of Victoria's Secret bras and panties." No. Any woman who can't fit into Victoria's Secret's sizes either considers them assholes for not making more sizes, or feels like they are trying to subliminally tell them to lose weight. Or both. But if you think that, then you're not happy with who you are. And that's not the fault of the advertisements or the media. It's not the fault of "society" or even the guys in the bar who go for your friend instead of you.
If you're bigger or smaller than most women, it's not society's job to make you feel comfortable in your own skin. When you look in the mirror, you need to learn to be happy with what you see. That doesn't mean you have to be happy with being overweight or underweight. If you want to be slimmer, then there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. If you want to gain weight, or change something about yourself because that's what makes you happy, there's nothing wrong with that at all. You just have to be ready to work towards it. If you're slim, eat more, (and you might want to exercise so that you can maintain control of weight gain and distribution), and if you're not as slim as you want to be, you eat better, and exercise. You won't get instant results. Not every cure to every problem is instantaneous. But, you will see progress. And every time you look in that mirror and see your progress, I guarantee you that you will feel ten times better than when you didn't.
Society doesn't know what's best for you or what will make you happy. Not those diet nuts, or those big women on TV talking about being proud of being big. If you're happy being big, then congratulations. If you're happy being small, then congratulations. If you're happy somewhere in the middle, then congratulations. If you aren't happy looking like a supermodel, and instead you want to look like a centaur, you do what you have to to get those horse legs. Don't forget the penis though. It's probably the best part, like going from two legs to five.
The point is, it isn't the worst thing to want to change who you are. What's bad is not doing something about it and just giving up.Whether it's progress to where you want to be, or you are exactly where you want to be, the most important thing in life, is being happy with what you see in the mirror.
At no point do they tell you in Victoria's Secret commercials "Get slimmer to fit into the new fall line of Victoria's Secret bras and panties." No. Any woman who can't fit into Victoria's Secret's sizes either considers them assholes for not making more sizes, or feels like they are trying to subliminally tell them to lose weight. Or both. But if you think that, then you're not happy with who you are. And that's not the fault of the advertisements or the media. It's not the fault of "society" or even the guys in the bar who go for your friend instead of you.
If you're bigger or smaller than most women, it's not society's job to make you feel comfortable in your own skin. When you look in the mirror, you need to learn to be happy with what you see. That doesn't mean you have to be happy with being overweight or underweight. If you want to be slimmer, then there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. If you want to gain weight, or change something about yourself because that's what makes you happy, there's nothing wrong with that at all. You just have to be ready to work towards it. If you're slim, eat more, (and you might want to exercise so that you can maintain control of weight gain and distribution), and if you're not as slim as you want to be, you eat better, and exercise. You won't get instant results. Not every cure to every problem is instantaneous. But, you will see progress. And every time you look in that mirror and see your progress, I guarantee you that you will feel ten times better than when you didn't.
Society doesn't know what's best for you or what will make you happy. Not those diet nuts, or those big women on TV talking about being proud of being big. If you're happy being big, then congratulations. If you're happy being small, then congratulations. If you're happy somewhere in the middle, then congratulations. If you aren't happy looking like a supermodel, and instead you want to look like a centaur, you do what you have to to get those horse legs. Don't forget the penis though. It's probably the best part, like going from two legs to five.
The point is, it isn't the worst thing to want to change who you are. What's bad is not doing something about it and just giving up.Whether it's progress to where you want to be, or you are exactly where you want to be, the most important thing in life, is being happy with what you see in the mirror.
Sock Diaries: 12/8/2012
I promised her I wouldn't write about her, so you'll just have to wonder who and what's going on there... but there's kind of a her there now. And honestly, I don't know where it's headed, but you know me, always down for a joy ride. But I do want to talk about a her. It's a her I care about deeply, but I'm no longer in a position to help her. Recent events have enlightened me to the fact that she's getting played by the guy playing her boyfriend. I saw it before but was too blinded by my own problems with my recent break-up to see it in the real situation it is. Truth is, there's not a thing I can do. And so I won't. I love her kind of like a sister, but it's time for her to fall or fly. I've spent so much of my life sacrificing my own happiness for the happiness of women. My guy friends never get into bullshit like this. I've done so much in my life to please certain women and then try to sneak some happiness in undercover, I've realized I have no time or energy for things that don't make me completely happy. If it isn't worth the effort or the distraction, I have to stay focused. I know what I want, and where I want to be. If anything holds me back, I have to either push through it, go around it, or let it go.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Sock Diaries: 12/1/2012
Judgement has been passed... I was talking to an ex girlfriend recently, and apparently, I'm a womanizing, manipulative asshole. Those weren't her words exactly, but that was the final verdict. We broke up four years ago, and I remembered it as kind of rough and tumble thing, I was desperate for attention and affection, but she was in the kind of household that didn't allow for much time away and together. I remember we had some rough times, mainly me complaining about not having enough time with her, and I did some stupid things in the middle, but, I didn't think it was the worst thing in the world. I got her parents to loose the chains a little. I got them to accept me as her boyfriend, and accept her having a boyfriend. But I did one very, very stupid thing at the end. As I tend to do when I turn my brain off for some poor reason or another.
I thought for a while on the good things, like the first time we said I love you. Waiting for her everyday on the bus stop when she went home. Meeting her family for the first time and being introduced to the cartoon Avatar: The Last Airbender. Coming in to our little after school program so early just so I could squeeze out every second I could with her. Laughing, playing, sneaking around (until we got caught by her parents) these were the fun things. The trip to New York when she told me she loved me for the first time. It was the first time any girl had ever said those words to me in person. I remember that moment so clearly, I can smell her perfume. She was there for me when my Grandmother died.
But then it all ended. Partially because of one very specific action, and partly because I had become extremely bitter at not having any way to see her after our after-school program ended. I would argue, she would try to calm me down. I lashed out at her and things just got out of hand. And for that I'm sorry.
I had more relationships, short and insignificant. I had crushes, and very close-calls, but then, I fell in love again. A girl who knew my ex and loved my writing. I had only met her once, and from what she told me, she hated me. Then she found my blog and began to learn the side of me that I keep secret from everyone and post publicly on the internet. Long story short, that ended, and THEN I fucked up. Kudos to me for holding out.
So now, here I am, womanizing, manipulative asshole. A description far away from the one I used to dream about having when I was younger: "Perfect boyfriend". I didn't make much when I was in that first relationship, but I did do what I could with all that I had. And in making more in my next relationship, I made sure that my lady wanted for absolutely nothing. And I still will. I stand by the fact that my lady my Queen and I am her King. When I am happy, I will make sure that my lady feels like royalty. I know that sounds pretentious, but it's true. My most recent ex went out of her way to always make sure I felt the love, even when I was in Afghanistan. And so I did the same.
But all of that aside... womanizing, manipulative asshole. This bothered me for a while. I thought to myself, I'm trying to be a great guy. I'm trying to do the right thing and make people forget about the stupid shit that I'd done in my past. I wondered if I would forever be defined and remembered by my mistakes. Should I even try anymore, if my mistakes will follow me forever? Should I just give up and be the bad guy? But then I took a piece of advice I give to other people when they're stressing over other people's opinions of them.
I picked my head up and said, with passion and conviction, with pride and self-discovery...
"Fuck her, I'm awesome."
I thought for a while on the good things, like the first time we said I love you. Waiting for her everyday on the bus stop when she went home. Meeting her family for the first time and being introduced to the cartoon Avatar: The Last Airbender. Coming in to our little after school program so early just so I could squeeze out every second I could with her. Laughing, playing, sneaking around (until we got caught by her parents) these were the fun things. The trip to New York when she told me she loved me for the first time. It was the first time any girl had ever said those words to me in person. I remember that moment so clearly, I can smell her perfume. She was there for me when my Grandmother died.
But then it all ended. Partially because of one very specific action, and partly because I had become extremely bitter at not having any way to see her after our after-school program ended. I would argue, she would try to calm me down. I lashed out at her and things just got out of hand. And for that I'm sorry.
I had more relationships, short and insignificant. I had crushes, and very close-calls, but then, I fell in love again. A girl who knew my ex and loved my writing. I had only met her once, and from what she told me, she hated me. Then she found my blog and began to learn the side of me that I keep secret from everyone and post publicly on the internet. Long story short, that ended, and THEN I fucked up. Kudos to me for holding out.
So now, here I am, womanizing, manipulative asshole. A description far away from the one I used to dream about having when I was younger: "Perfect boyfriend". I didn't make much when I was in that first relationship, but I did do what I could with all that I had. And in making more in my next relationship, I made sure that my lady wanted for absolutely nothing. And I still will. I stand by the fact that my lady my Queen and I am her King. When I am happy, I will make sure that my lady feels like royalty. I know that sounds pretentious, but it's true. My most recent ex went out of her way to always make sure I felt the love, even when I was in Afghanistan. And so I did the same.
But all of that aside... womanizing, manipulative asshole. This bothered me for a while. I thought to myself, I'm trying to be a great guy. I'm trying to do the right thing and make people forget about the stupid shit that I'd done in my past. I wondered if I would forever be defined and remembered by my mistakes. Should I even try anymore, if my mistakes will follow me forever? Should I just give up and be the bad guy? But then I took a piece of advice I give to other people when they're stressing over other people's opinions of them.
I picked my head up and said, with passion and conviction, with pride and self-discovery...
"Fuck her, I'm awesome."
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