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Archive for June, 2012

fantasizing about my ex

Just because we’re over doesn’t mean that I can’t think about him, or fantasize about him, or imagine having sex with him, and by imagine having sex with him, I mean it. It’s surprising how often I fantasize about having sex with him. I’d say I do it at least once every day, no matter the setting, be it on the train, trying to fall asleep, or in the middle of a meeting. The latter is probably the most taboo. I was pretty surprised myself when I found myself doing it. Not that I cared. Imaginary surprise morning bathroom sex beats learning about databases on Microsoft Access.

At this point, I don’t know if this is healthy for me, considering the fact that, from an outsider looking in, it seems like I’m not over him. It’s just such a guilty pleasure. I’m not proud of the fact that, in my head, I’ve gone skinny dipping with him and have had pool sex with him, but I secretly relish it. I do. It’s my dirty little secret. I know what it feels like to kiss him, hold him, and be with him so I see no reason why I can’t fantasize about him. It’s healthy. I promise it is. In some sick, twisted, masochistic way, it’s like being with him. In fact, sometimes I can’t wait to do it, to close my eyes, let my mind wander, and fantasize the fuck out of him. I’m not proud of this, because I hate how he still occupies my thoughts, but I’m not going to apologize. Let me get a few things straight.

Just because I daydream about him like this does not mean that I’m going to give in, text him, see him, try to make him fall in love with me, and run back to him. No, not unless he sincerely apologizes, recognizes how big of a dick he was, confesses his undying love for me, and, of course, asks me to be his girlfriend. And we all know how great he is at that. In all seriousness though, chances are I’m probably never going to see him again in my life, given the fact that this inertia of us not talking to each other will continue on into the depths of infinity since we’re both stubborn bitches who want the upper-hand in any relationship. The timing is completely off and, by the time the timing is right, we’ll both have moved on to, hopefully, better partners.

What troubles me the most is the fact that, in addition to the sexual fantasies I have about him, I also legitimately daydream about him, meaning I imagine scenarios in which we’ll bump into each other, whether I call him up or it’s accidental, and we’ll both realize that our feelings are still there and get together. This, I’m not proud of. I am not proud of this. After all the shit he put me through, the humiliation of being dumped through an extended period of absence, the slap in the face that I’m not good enough to be his girlfriend, and the automatic deal-breakers I forced myself to put up with, the smoking, the weed, the tattoos, I still want to be with him deep down inside. This, I have a problem with. I’m not proud of the fact that I stalk the shit out of him on Twitter, the only means by which I can stalk him, and you’d be surprised to know that I typed his username into Twitter’s search bar a good four times today…nothing. I stalk everyone he’s connected to as well, like, fuck it. This is my freedom. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. I just want to see something! I haven’t the faintest idea of what’s going on in his life right now. Am I really so sadistic and masochistic that I intentionally want to hurt myself by wanting to see what he’s doing, where he is, and who he’s with? Call me a psycho bitch but I will freak the fuck out if I find out, from whatever source, that he was dealing with a girl over the summer. If it’s more than one girl, fine, but if it’s one girl, I will flip shit. One girl means that he genuinely has feelings for her, he cares about her, and if this one girl lasts the entire summer, that’s longer than the time period in which him and I were dealing. I’m not bitter. It’s a respect thing. You cannot possibly move on that fast. Pretend to suffer a bit at least, wallow in pity, withdraw from the outside world for a few days, and, for the love of God, listen to sad music!