Fuck yes

I went out with a friend last night. I had some beers. I showed her pictures of the two drastically older men I'm interested in. One of whom is my ex.

She looked at me and said
"OMG. No. You are way too nice and too funny and too beautiful to date these losers!!! You deserve someone who's going to take you on dates and want to date you."

I got a text from RPJ when i got home.

I called him twice he didn't pick up.

I said I'd rather talk on the phone.

So then I proceed to drop TRUTH BOMBS on his phone.

I don't know if what I did was right.

Basically I told him
Shit or get off the pot. Just in many more words.

I spoke my truth, so I'm not going to feel bad about it. I just hate it when a girl speaks her mind and a man labels her as "psycho or crazy" - when in actuality I'm just looking to cleanse my life of the BULLSHIT which he sprays onto it.

It's so complicated and painful and I don't have time for this shit!!!!

Did I do the "right" thing? Am I missing out on the greatest love of my life? I don't think so, since I would hope the greatest love of my life WOULD ACTUALLY TREAT ME WITH MUTUAL RESPECT AND LOVE.  i feel the love from him. Just no respect. 

the love song that's stuck in my head

 










Friday night i went out with friends, then met up with Marc Maron/Aidan Shaw. We had a few drinks and it was fun to talk and spend time w/ him. there was no kissing cuz i was sick. I haven't heard back from him since :/ i texted him today, so we'll see if he says hello.

Last night i got a text from RPJ, my ex. He asked what I was up to and that he was glad we were talking again and we should hang out soon. I called him. He told me he was at a bar around the corner from me.

So i threw on my coat and went to have a few drinks with my "buddy".

we continue to drink. he pays for all my drinks. he takes my hand in his hand and tells me why it's so hard for him. why he disappears on women. why he gets scared. he tells me about being in a helicopter, sitting across from a medic and a man with his brain coming out of his mouth.

you've been through some heavy shit, I agree.

he tells me he's always been this way. he gets really into someone then pulls away.

you're testing me. seeing if i'll still be there. still hang out and be cool and be there when you come back.

he values his loner-ness. his solitaire. he wants someone who will be ok with that. that's why he  leaves or suddenly doesn't talk to me for a long time.

you keep holding my hand. you say your father's death doomed us. we would be together if not for that loss. you weren't present and couldn't find your way back.
you tell me i'm cute, you tell me you're being seduced. "you're seducing me."
you love my hands. they feel so good, they're so soft. you rub them and hold them tight. you squeeze my arms and hands. you laugh when i get pink in the cheeks and tell me, "you're turning red." i say no it's just the lighting. you say no. don't be silly. you love that i'm so playful.

we start speaking in italian. anchio te. mi piace luigino.
i tell you how heartbroken i was.
we cash out. you walk me back to my place. it's so so cold and windy. we get inside my lobby and we kiss. my lips and yours dancing. all i'm thinking in my head is i want you. i'm thinking it so loud and so hard that i swear you hear my mind through our kissing.

are lips are dancing with the occasional scratch from your stubble.
we head downstairs to my apartment. i hope my roommate is not up because if she is she will give me an eye roll and make me feel like a high school student misbehaving in detention.
she's not up thank god. i tell you to go to my room while i make the tea.
i show you the camera my parents gave me, their 80s Canon. this was your first camera you say.
you fool with it and show me how it works, where the battery is. i love you.
i pour the tea and you're already lying down in my unmade bed. you're comfortable.
i put down the tea and you barely sips any. you tell me to come here and snuggle. but we don't even snuggle too long before we are kissing.

we lay in bed and my alarm goes off. the day must begin. my routine calls. i wash my face and dress and make my lunch.
we walk down the street. it's still cold. i am humming good morning music. "good morning, good morning, it's great to stay up late" - "oh what a beautiful morning"
"do you always sing in the morning?"
 "no ... wait, ya i guess i do! i hum and sing to myself."

we part ways and say see ya. you go up the street and i go to work. i still love you but i no longer am waiting for you. i can't wait. i must live out this novel of my life. with or without you.

is it wrong that last night happened? no. it just happened. this is life. all i do is what feels good, what is right in the moment. maybe it's not in the long run. but i no longer live for others rules. i live for my own rules. as long as i feel comfortable and good, i'm saying yes. life is too short to worry and hate myself. life is to love myself, every inch. all the good and bad bits. it's gorgeous and completely one of a kind.


sleeping next to him felt so good. a little part of me loves him after all this and that is the part i think rules my head even when it shouldn't.
the question is, do i want to wait around for him to figure it out? no i don't.

i definitely feel our dynamics are different now, though. i've kicked him off his pedestal and he is just another man. Unfortunately i am still in love with this man.

It's not as simple as saying I'm never going to see him again and cut him out. I can't do it. I've tried.

It was ... odd.

I had yet another extremely vivid, long dream about dating Marc Maron last night. The beginning of the date was good. We spent sunny days eating and drinking and hiking in CALIFORNIA? 

I brought him home to my parents and family and no one understood and kept telling me he was too old and then we got in fights and then my mom questioned how many men I had slept with in my lifetime.

It was ... odd.

I woke up feeling ashamed yet extremely in love and couldn't get back to sleep. I'm blaming this on the Catholic Guilt that I'll never rid myself of.

I hope if I ever do date an old man my family will understand. Seeing as though the majority of my boyfriends have been 5-15 years older than me, I do not see that changing soon. Although my recent NYE disaster was younger than me.

It would be really difficult for me to love someone if my family hated them. Is that ok? I feel like if you love someone, you'd be able to be ok w/ your family not liking them. But how much is worth having fights with your family?

LUCKILY, none of these things are my problem.

Just my dream's problem.