Bad Luck

My friend Oliver Griffin’s arm

I haven’t been having much luck with the opposite sex recently. My ex-boyfriend left me six months ago to become gay (that’s just a guess, but an educated one at that), and ever since it seems like I’m cursed. Seriously, every guy I like finds me absolutely repulsive. It’s like, wait, what? Do I smell? Is there something in my teeth? Is being way too intense and saying I LOVE YOU on the first date not something guys are into? I’m in the dark.

I recently wrote about my first date with Taylor—the guy I met on the internet (embarrassing). Oh my god I’m so into him. Actually, I think I sort of worship him. I just want to stare at him and be near him and touch him forever, but I’m too scared because he’s too perfect. When I’m with him I become such a loser. I just sort of geek-out and say all the wrong things. I wish he wasn’t so fucking beautiful. I swear, I’ve never met someone who seems so above life—if that makes any sense—but, like, in a really sweet and oblivious way. Staring at him, it feels like an orchestra should be accompanying his every movement. Wait, maybe I’m making too much of this. It’s just… ugh… when the CP makes his spindly body involuntarily jerk and twist, it sort of distorts his face into this weird, featureless smudge of white flesh. It’s soooo fucking hot. Like end of the world hot. It’s as if each individual feature on his dreamy face becomes irrelevant, yet at the same time it creates this beautiful, perfect mess. Fuck, I want him.

Last night I jerked-off thinking about Taylor jerking-off.

I know when I really like someone because when I jerk-off thinking about them my orgasms feel different—more… spiritual, for lack of a better word. Afterward, my body just sort of collapses into nothing and for a moment I feel like maybe I don’t exist. No? Just me? Cool.

I also kind of like this other guy, Dude #2. I want to fuck Dude #2 for no other reason than he doesn’t want to fuck me back. I’m way into that. Rejection is so my thing. I get off on it. I’ve only met Dude #2 a couple times, but something about him really turns me on. He’s not even that amazing looking. I mean he is, but he’s not fucked-up enough. For me anyway. Whatever. I just want anyone who doesn’t want me. Recently I’ve been sending Dude #2 text messages that say things like, “I just came thinking about your cock,” and “Do you want to meet my parents?” He normally doesn’t reply, and when he does it’s usually something along the lines of “Yeah…whatever,” but for some reason, despite his unwillingness to humor my desires, I still feel like this could be the start of something really, uh, beautiful? Or maybe ‘disgusting’ is a better word.

Whatever. Boys are for gays anyway.



6 Replies to “Bad Luck”

  1. I like how you describe people. It might be just that the people themselves are interesting… but I like how you mentioned that Dale dyes his food colors and that you feel like Taylor should have orchestral accompaniment. It's cool.

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