Closed. Will Reopen Once Healed.

This will be my last post about Slim for a while. That Negro has been takin up too much of my blog space and he aint payin' rent. (Wait, neither am I, but still, this is MY spot!) But I figured I better post about Slim before you all tar and feather me! So, for those of you inquiring about sleepovers and abstinence mixing, here goes:

I made sure Slim knew the first time he spent the night over here that there would be nothing going on but sleeping. While he was here, we talked and I let him know that there will be nothing going on in the sexual realm until we got to know each other. (Logical, huh?) So anyways...Hol' up, hol' up!! My fault...I guess I should start out with my reasoning for abstaining, huh?

Alright, here goes. Before we get started, lemme warn you that this is shaping up to be one of those long ass, Gian-type posts, so you might wanna go grab yourself a glass of water and a cookie or two. I'll wait...

*tapping my foot while singing Michael Jackson's "The Way You Make Me Feel"...*

Back? Good, let's get going...

*deep breath* I'm going to attempt to be as honest as some of you other bloggers out there. So here goes....wait, hold on a minute... *emptying my pockets of sarcasm, smart ass comments and ambiguous phrasing* Alright, let's roll.


So far, in my short lil life, I can count on one hand the number of guys I've been with intimately. Then I can put down my thumb, middle, ring and pinkie fingers. Yeah, you followed that right. I've only been intimate sexually with one man in my lifetime. We dated for two and a half years. When we started dating I was 16 and he was 22. I'm sure there are some back entries about him. Not nearly as many as there are on my old blog, but I'm sure he lurks somewhere in here.

Anyways, we had this really serious relationship, entirely too serious for someone my age but probably perfect for him since he was 6 years older than me and ready for a lot of stuff that I wasn't.

When we first started dating, he was the perfect gentleman. Sweet, honest, caring...yadda yadda blase skip...(don't they all start out that way?) As time went on, he stayed that way but I noticed that he always wanted to be FIRST. He always wanted to have me to himself and if I would go out he would call me at LEAST 10 times while I was out. Usually more. It got the point where my friends had to grab my phone from me and turn it off in order for me to have a halfway decent time. He kept up this behavior until I left for college. Right before I left, we got into a really big argument and I laid everything out on the table. I told him I thought he was controlling and too demanding and I was really getting sick of it. He apologized and we went back to normal for a while. A couple weeks later, I packed my stuff and was off to college. Then he really started to act up. He started being extremely verbally abusive to me and calling me every name in the book anytime he felt like it. I would get home from a football game (where I couldn't hear my phone ring) and have 5 voicemails from him calling me all types of hoes, bitches and sluts. At first I was too shocked to even be hurt by it, I mean shit, I was still a virgin. It's like having someone call you a honkie and you are black as night. You just sit there, like "WTF? Are they for real?.." But after a while it did a number on me. Eventually, it got to the point where I felt I needed to talk to him face to face and I went home. We ended up getting in another big ass argument and that was the first time he ever laid his hands on me. I was so extremely hurt that I went straight back to school and wouldn't talk to him for 2 weeks. Eventually we smoothed things over and somehow wound up still together. We carried on with this bullshit for several more months. Then October (03) of my freshman year, he came up to my school and proposed to me. That was the night I lost my virginity. (Gawd, that is the worst saying in the language....I really didn't lose it, I know exactly where it went. But I digress...)I was convinced that it was right and everything between us would only get better from then on.

Shit only got worse. He became even more controlling, demanding crazy shit. Giving me certain times to call him, going online to check my cell phone records and calling my room phone at all times of the night just to make sure I was there. Almost every time I would go home, we would end up in a physical fight. On one trip, we had an especially bad fight and he ended up trying to choke me with his belt. I was hurt, confused, caught up and couldn't find a way to let go of this man whom I'd put so much loving into. Putting up with his ass kept me in a deep ass depression. For two weeks of the spring semester freshman year, I was seriously deeply depressed. I didn't go to class, I wouldn't speak to anyone, I barely ate. I slept the whole day and would be up all night talking to him, trying to make "us" work. My grades slipped. My straight A's and 2 B's ended up being 2 B's and and 4 C's. (Yeah you read that right, that is 6 classes, 18 credit hours and an honor course on top of that. So ya'll know a girl was already stressed without that bullshit.) Anyways, after all those weeks of being nocturnal and depressed and shit I emerged knowing that I couldn't deal with that shit a minute longer. I broke it off for "good"...It was quite sad really. He begged, pleaded and bawled his sorry ass eyes out, but I was unaffected. All I had to do was think of all the shit he put me through and that turned any glimmer of sympathy I may have had into straight stone. We must have talked from 1am to about 9am. He tried every trick in the book to get me to stay with him. Finally, I just told him flat out that he didn't respect me. He denied it up and down, swore I was his Queen and that he always cherished me. I blew a fuckin' lid. I went off, replaying all the shit he'd put me through, all the times he'd hurt me, physically and mentally, and basically just put all his shit out there. He wouldn't say anything about hitting me, but he kept insisting that the only reason he'd repeatedly said those things to me was because he was angry. So I asked his punk ass if he respected his mother. Of course he replied "yes." I asked if he'd ever been angry with her. Again, "yes." Had he ever called his mother a bitch to her face? He hung his head. When he looked up, his eyes were wet and he slowly said "no." I told him that because he respected her and it was ENTIRELY too obvious by the way he treated me that in his mind, I didn't deserve respect. That ended the conversation.

Since then, I've ended up running back to him several times, most recently last October. It was mainly a physical thing, but there was also this deeply mental hold, him being my first and only and all that shit. It got to the point where I would go to his house, we would sit there and he would hold me. We wouldn't speak and then one of us would end up crying because of how shit turned out. We would have sex and then I would end up hating myself because I couldn't release myself from him. And it wasn't that the sex was that good. He was excellent at oral sex, but when it came time for intercourse, things always took a turn for the worst. It wasn't that the sex was bad, let me explain: I like to make love. With me being so fuckin enamored with him and our relationship being turbulent as hell in every other aspect, the one place I thought I could find some tenderness was in the bedroom. Not so...in all the times that we've done it, I can only recall 3 times which would qualify as not ending up with us fucking. And one of those times was after we broke up. I don't know if it was something to do with him physically, but dude would always end up fucking me. And don't get me wrong, that shit is cool sometimes, hell GREAT at the right time, but like I said, I was seeking softness since I couldn't get it anywhere else. Here's a poem about it called "Tough Love". (This brotha wrote an EXCELLENT reply to it, let me know if you want to see it and I will give you all the link in my next post.) Ehh...fukk it...I'll post it later.


Being that he's been my only sexual partner, I decided to abstain from sex. The thought of it just came with too much emotional baggage and every time I would find myself feenin', there was only one place for me to get my fix and I already knew how bad that was for me. I'm not the one for "casual sex" so I always wound up going back to the one person I had real feelings for. So I swore off sex altogether. It was the only way for me to get my mind right and not fall victim to my carnal desires. Plus, I had a feeling that the next guy that I had sex with would find me relaying all my wasted feelings for my ex onto him. And I was way too fragile to have myself get hurt again so soon.

There have been good guys in between but I always felt I wasn't ready. (Not just for sex, for a relationship.) So they got put to the side. I didn't want to hurt them by being too distant and I was also afraid of getting hurt because my spirit was still healing.

I guess Slim just came at the right time. We had a conversation and we decided to just keep things as they are for while and see where things go. And for right now, that's exactly what I want. It would be nice to have a boyfriend, but I know there is still a part of me that fears that the moment we label something, the bullshit will begin. So until I can let go of that, we'll remain where we are.

And where in the hell is that exactly? Shit, I don't know. Slim's been spending a lot of time over here. In fact, he stayed over here last night. We're doing a lot more talking now. At first, it was a lot of playful talk in between deep kisses. I guess we explored our physical attraction to each other first and now that we know that's not going anywhere, we are taking the time to really get to know each other. I was extremely honest with him yesterday and let him know that he's not the only one I'm "talking" (do only Midwest people say that?) to, but that I am really feeling him. He let me know that he's starting to gain some feelings for me. I told him that was nice. I just couldn't find it in myself to lie to him and tell him the same. And I didn't want to. He's great to be around and have around, but I'm the type of person that it takes a while to get to care about someone, but once I do, I REALLY care about you. So for right now, me and Slim will continue to sleep in my SUPER DELUXE bed, have those fun "getting to know you better conversations" and enjoy each other's company while we're out (all between some great kisses, because that boy has some SUPERB lips!). I'll keep you updated...

_______________________


Here's a freewrite I wrote about the whole sex situation and the way I kept going back.

I don't mean to keep letting him slide
in
me
between my legs
feasting on me
saying into me
all that he refused to say
to me
numerous apologies
and sincere feelings
singing "Adore"
into my core
"Love is 2 weak 2 define just what you mean to me"
This language we speak is
so different from the one we first
learned to communicate with
Tongues greet with the passion
of the reunited
fingertips blaze new trails of discovery
to a place
where only one flag has been planted







Dammit, I'm not updating for 3 weeks after this! I don't see how you long posters do it! But there you have it, the Slim update as well as a whole hell of a lot more.