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If I'm dreaming of you, does that mean you dream of me too?
Are we one in the realm of dreams?
Could the realm of dreams fruition reality?
My soul reaches out to you
Silver-Tongue
Blue Eyes

I like to journal if you couldn't tell.
I have since 2002. However, even in my mind, the net or paper my thoughts are not safe.
Everyone asks, "Why did you write it down?!" while giving me the "have you lost your damn mind" look.
If you had to ask that, clearly you missed an important trait about me. I love to write though I believe I'm terrible at it, I do not have "a way with words." It's therapeutic for me, my mind becomes less full, and one day I think it would be awesome for my journals to be published because it could help someone, or just be an awe-factor.

So, yes I wrote it down. I wrote it down because my mind was heavy. I wrote it down to relive the thrill and take account of the damage I had done. I hadn't realized I had gotten so carried away.

So here are some details, some of you may already know or suspected what has been happening:
(1) I spoke of my blue-eyed friend, the one I wanted to love me or whisk me away across the world for sexual adventures, I slept with him. He and I fucked three times. I spoke of the trip to Raleigh to last year for his birthday. I also spoke of a dream I had of him calling me and telling me he missed me. I wrote that I would keep his number saved in hopes he would one day reach out to me having realized how much he wanted me.
(2) I spoke of a look- a-like of my blue-eyed lover, the first guy I ever kissed outside my relationship.
(3) I spoke of two gentlemen I made-out with at two different bars and nope I don't know their names.
(4) I spoke of a gentleman I met a few weeks ago that I met on the dance floor and we danced and kissed under the strobe light. We made a dance scene connection only seen on tv shows or the movies. We stayed locked in an embrace the rest of the night. He was fine as hell, blonde hair and green eyes to quiver for. After the club closed we stayed on the patio wall locked in an embrace and in my car. Didn't sleep with him though. I did try to blow him- when I say try, he could get it up and he told me a week later he wasn't interested in me but I am cool.
(5) I spoke about another blonde hair- green eyed fella, this one is stacked with muscle like a mountain and eyes the color of pale seafoam. His experience was probably the worse (though I didn't state that in my journal, I only wrote that we made out) I've never had anyone literally bite my mouth. Like my whole mouth. He had me pinned up in the corner of the driver's seat and I basically had to let it happen. It wasn't until I had to use force that I got his attention and then I was able to take the lead. I did kick him out of my car when he kept demanding for me to go to an empty lot and undress.


But that's not all that happened there are a few other gentlemen that I didn't feel the need to write down at the time. So, my brown-eyed lover went searching for my journal once I left the house for a business meeting. He found it tucked up- underneath my bedside table. Well curiosity really did kill the cat now, didn't it?

COMMENTS

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Doru
01:08 Mar 05 2018

"Wickedness is a myth invented by good people to account for the curious attractiveness of others."

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