Tears, Fears, and Scars…

The fear I’m feeling right now, is slightly paralyzing. I’ve been siting at this computer for over an hour, terrified of outing myself. Scared that the ones that were the closest to me had no idea at the time and still have no idea. I’ve carried this “thing” for almost 5 years now and the burden hasn’t gotten too heavy…yet! I’m outing myself today because after talking to someone close to me about the very subject, I found myself shocked that I didn’t see the signs, especially since I lived it. I hid the fact so well that no one knew that I was in abusive relationship for 5 years.

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Can you, like, just go away forever…

WARNING! This is a full on rant so fucking bear with me. Now, if you’ve been reading this rag pretty faithfully, you know that I have friends (shocker), weird friends, normal friends, ex-boyfriend friends… I pretty much have a small cabinet of ministers as friends. In “Case of the Ex”, I talked about how I’ve maintained a relationship with some exes and how 2 of them are actually like brothers to me. And in the same entry, I also speak about not maintaining a  relationship with fuck boy who’s obviously fucked you up and over in on fell swoop. But I what I failed to mention is what happens to your fucking sanity when you keep seeing that motherfucker everywhere, and by everywhere, I mean ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE! Like a bitch can’t even go to 2 blocks without this dude showing up… UGHHH….. Continue reading

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My (sex) life is like…

I know it’s been while since we’ve spoken, but I’ve been trying to enjoy my summer. It doesn’t mean the last few weeks have been drama free or scourge free (what can I say, mama is a magnet for bullshit these days). In all the ups and downs in the last few weeks, one constant has remained the same: Sex, or more so the lack of it. If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you know that I believe that everyone should be having sex. And not that mediocre, that last 5 minutes, shitty sex. I am talking about sweaty, orgasm-filled, liberating, wanting-to-tell-the-mailman great sex. Of course I know that one’s inhibitions can usually dictate how good or utterly wretched the sex will be. But what happens when you put your good intentions out there and you get basically nothing but a laugh from God and perhaps a new vibrator from a concerned friend (Hi AG)…

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