He took a face from the ancient gallery

8pm – I tell him about Lira.
8:10 – 8:45pm – he stares off into the fireplace, half-heartedly making a fire. mostly avoiding me.
8:45 – 9:15pm – he in the basement (but not in the laundry room).
9:15 – 9:30 – he helps mixing cupcake batter. he takes 15 minutes to mix one bowl. and stops often and stares into the bowl.
9:30 – 10pm – … I have no idea where he is.
10 -10:30pm – he has locked himself into the bathroom.
10:30 – 11:10pm – he tries to make small talk with Isobel and I, mostly stares off into space or is looking at his mobile. I tell him he is acting oddly.
11:10 -11:20pm – he is pacing around. picking up his mobile, glancing at it. pouts. asks me a random question.
11:20-11:40pm – he is standing the kitchen, doing something intently on his mobile.
11:40-11:55pm – he has locked himself into the bathroom.
11:55-12:01am – he is wandering around the kitchen.
12:10 – 12:20am – he has locked himself into the bathroom. this time when he leaves, he actually flushes.
12:24am – he enters the bedroom, just to walk back out again & heads down the stairs. pauses at the bottom of the stairs, comes back in the room. retrieves something from his nightstand, walks out of the room and back downstairs again. no words or anything.
12:27am – comes back in the room to plug his mobile in. lays down in bed and covers up.
12:28 – 12:37am – he refuses to make any eye contact with me, lays and sighs.
12:37am – I give up and go to bed. fuck this and him.

4:38am
Well, that could not have ended up worse.
The on going problem between he & I is the cheating. He thought it was a brilliant idea to cheat on me a zillion times whilst we had a LDR. It was all sexting, live cams and porn (OK, the porn in itself is not cheating… except that 1.) he lied about it and 2.) he used porn instead of utilising me) for him (“Oh look it is 11 o’clock! *yawn* look at the time! I should get some sleep, work tomorrow! Love you and sweet dreams!”… then he would spend the next 3-5 hours on cams or watching porn). And for me? I got pushed to the back burner. When I tried to get some e-love, I was told:

-“You do not inspire me”
-“I like it better when we are together in real life better”
-“I cannot type and masturbate at the same time.. it is too confusing”
-“I do not think of you that way”

I am LITERALLY the first person he has turned down any sort of sex with. Men, old ladies, teenagers, trailer-trash with missing teeth, severely obese women, furries, sex bots, seriously.. ANYTHING besides me got him going. He even had video games that he fucked an underaged nurse in first person. Some people he paid for, some he found in anonymous chat rooms. He would watch people masturbate even if they were old dudes. He did not care – all of it excited him .. and no, this is not exactly my issue.

My issue is that he insisted on staying with me even though he had no interest in me. He treats me like some sort of saint. Our actual sex is never bad but it is really just for him. He never takes off my clothes (except the ones in the way) nor does he attempt to do anything just “for me”. The whole act has always been for his enjoyment. Some of this is my fault – I very much enjoyed pleasing him. I like sex and all of its components. I did not ask much from him, but I gave him everything I could, gleefully.

…until I read things he said to other people. Asshole CAN definitely type and jerk off. I have gigabits of this shit. He even sent me pictures of himself that he took for other people. HE SENT ME THE ERECTIONS OF HIS FANTASIES OF FUCKING OTHER PEOPLE because he could not get hard for me. “I did not want you to be like them” and blah blah fucking blah.

Continue reading “He took a face from the ancient gallery”

there is no redemption to be sought and found

And I wanted much more ; much nobler things. Dear hearts, I truly believed, to my bones, that you wanted them too, and believed, and I honoured​ you for it. You know I would have done anything for you, and sometimes I did, for some of you reading this now, I imagine. But you always were hesitant things; you always did sort of keep one foot in class envy while the other danced social justice convincingly, and you never did want to risk too much, to dive into terra incognita transfigured by holy terror and faith. So how can you ask that of anyone else? Why should I? Why is that my burden alone? Simply because it makes me die NOT to? Well, we are all dying now, and the joy of life is many years gone, for me. And I got used to chronic pain, fear, predation, perdition so very young indeed, you know. I cannot accept that Destiny’s vanquished my Will, but my eyes nonetheless do roll back in my head as Its tepid hand holds my throat against the bare boards. It is not somouldy​y here as there but I still smell it faintly. As I am sure you can too, if you take a moment.

The bones of the mountain, the hiss of our cruel mother sea, they are better friends to me now than ever you were, my fellow conscious beings, who could be so much more. This is cold comfort; this is not how it should be. But if I cannot be certain who I can trust with what after two or five or fifteen years, I suppose that is simply a place I can never in good faith stand, with anyone.

something about this (is very wrong)

having a heart is a liability. 

being in love only belongs in Hollywood film script or in adult chat rooms. 

loyalty is a quality is only held by the weak. 

honesty is frowned upon. 

hope is for children. 

sexual fantasies are king but believing in fairies is nonsensical. 

give the gift of cybersex. it is what everyone really wants.