Here's your punch drunk cupid knocked clean out of his senses

Nobody new to update on and that’s possibly the best scenario I could imagine right now. The emotional part of my being is ill. I feel sick, a love-struck invalid.

My new obsession/distraction consists of drunk texting back and forth with Danny in the middle of the night. I’ve gone out drinking with my co-workers and some of my girlfriends the last few weekends in a row and inevitably, usually on the drive home, I will whip out my phone and find some messages from him. Or I’ll be too drunk to know any better and just start randomly talking to him because I’m lonely and I miss him. It feels weird to be out and about in the city and not have him around. So I get sentimental and start dribbling out stupid, misspelled messes to him.

Lately, the texts have centered on finding the right time to sneak into his room at his parents’ house and have sex. No joke, this is how we used to do it before we moved in together. For years and years, we would just wait for the perfect time that his parents were out grocery shopping or something and then I’d come over. It certainly made us appreciate sex and it always had this thrilling, risky vibe to it. We were always scared we’d get caught! For a brief time, Dan’s family lived in a hotel suite while their house was being remodeled: that was the best! He’d call me as I’d be driving home from work and tell me it was time. I knew what he meant. I would speed as fast as I could in rush hour traffic to the Residence Inn in La Mirada and practically jump on top of him as soon as I’d walk through the door. I think this is why he and I could always bang one out pretty fast; we never knew any other way.

This is probably why we got so sick of each other in the apartment. We had lost all excitement over physical contact. Sex was just another thing collecting dust along with the television, the refrigerator and the couch. We didn’t have that exciting twist on it anymore. And since (theoretically) we could have sex anytime we wanted to, there was no more thrill of the hunt or agony of defeat. If you can eat chocolate cake and pizza anytime you want to, don’t you get tired of it after a while? I don’t know. You get lazy about it.

And now that I can’t have him anytime I want to, I get sad. I get depressed that nobody finds me attractive anymore. I spiral into a gloomy funk that seems to have no remedy. It’s like I can’t be happy: either I’m unhappy when I’m with him or unhappy when I’m not. And it doesn’t help that Dan’s so nice over text and writes me dirty messages about wanting to fuck my brains out. I can tell he misses having my crazy ass around.

So we’re planning on meeting up on Friday October 8th because his parents are going to be at the Maroon 5 concert. I’m not going to even attempt and lie: I definitely plan on having sex with him again. But….unlike all these other stupid idiots who claim they can take it straight from me, I know Dan can have a frank discussion about how he feels. As I mentioned, he and I are very blunt people. I am going to lay down the law with him and tell him that either we get back together and seek professional counseling to solve our differences or we stop with the shenanigans. That’s right, I’m calling his bluff. I know there’s a lot of good stuff between us and I let it sour….or rather, I was the first one to just give up. I’ve gone through so many shades of remorse that this might sound ridiculous, but I want to be honest with him for once.

But the cheating! I know! It sits on my conscience like a dirty, evil, depressing weight. How could I get back with him after all that? Honestly, I don’t know.

Maybe this is all crazy talk because I’m lonely. I’m still wounded over Alfonso shunning me and all the other idiots breaking promises. And I forgot how embarrassing it is to go clubbing as a single gal. I’m out on the dance floor, minding my own business and then some fugly dude sidles up next to me and my friends or tries to dry hump me from behind. Ewwww.

Okay maybe getting back with Dan is a bit drastic and uncharacteristic, especially since I have spent the ENTIRE TIME on this blog trying to escape him. But now I’m starting to doubt myself….the single life sucks ass and I hate feeling like I’ve lost control of my own heart.

I wish there was a way I could only keep the good stuff about Dan. Like, I wish there was a way to bottle those feelings and keep them forever. I would give anything to just feel what it’s like to sit there and laugh hysterically with him. To see him smile because I said something funny, to feel him hold me on the couch as we watch TV together, to hear him talk on the phone while he tells me about his day, to sit in my car and watch him walk out of his house, to feel him hold my hand, to kiss like crazy teenagers to Suedehead” again….

….but then I remember all the fighting, the arguments, the petty squabbles, and the passive aggressive behavior and how mean we were with each other the last few months.

Oh, I’m no good. I obviously don’t know what I want….or rather; I think I do….but I just don’t know how to get it. Quick, perfect dream boy…wherever you are out there….show up already before I get back with my ex-boyfriend!