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Twig, You’re a Slut.

December 10, 2013

I’d like to think that I pulled the night off rather smoothly, but that’s probably inaccurate. The reality is that I’m probably just a dumb slut and everyone knows it. I might have shit for brains, but at least I’m good in bed.

TLTL talked me into leaving the house tonight. Should I be concerned that he tried to entice me with “MTIA will be there”? Likely. But I’m not. Because, frankly, I don’t give a shit. Neither of these guys is the love of my life, however much I want either of them to be, so it’s time to play the same game they play. I swear that there’s more to my personality and general existence than just sex. I swear. Surely I’m more than just a vapid whore.

So I made plans to spend the night with MTIA after the hockey game later this week. He has never been to a hockey game. I suppose that for some (most?) people, this does not come with the same shock that it did for me. I’m no season ticket holder, it’s true, but really?

“You’ve never been to a hockey game? Are you fucking kidding me?! You know more about our team than I do!” I gaped at him. This was shortly after saying, “Look, I got good seats, but they aren’t rinkside.” He has no basis for comparison. At least he admitted it. This does mean, though, that my tickets won’t seem all that impressive to him. Or maybe they will. It could go either way.

I find myself sighing heavily. When MTIA walked into the bar tonight, my heart leapt, even as I sat there flirting with TLTL. As he sidled up to us, I bit my lip. His eyeliner was smeared beyond all reason. TLTL and I grinned at him. “This is my ‘just finished sucking a cock in an alley’ look,” he said, casting a meaningful look at the friend with whom he had entered the bar. We all chuckled, because, well, these things have been known to happen, but we all know his friend is straight as an arrow. TLTL and MTIA start cracking jokes at one another’s expense, friendly but barbed banter, which elicited a, “God, would you two just fucking blow one another already?” They stared at me. Then at each other. And then they both cringed and laughed. “Oh, hell no,” MTIA said, but not before giving TLTL the once (or twice or thrice) over. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” TLTL quipped.

Is that what I’m doing? Am I destroying friendships?

Because of course I went back to TLTL’s place “to watch some tv” at midnight. Of course. This is a disaster.

I’m a slut.

And the thing is, I’m absolutely awful at it. I have no idea how people manage to date a whole slew of folks at a time. I can’t handle two. And I’m not even “dating” either of them. Let’s be clear: I’m not much more to TLTL or MTIA than a sex toy that drinks a lot of beer and watches sports.

TLTL always goes to such great lengths to get me into bed – comforting me during more attacks of Wellbutrin-induced self-loathing, for example. I fall for the sincerity every time. I’m being used. I know it. And yet I convince myself that this time things will be different.

I can’t get The Offspring’s “Self Esteem” out of my head.

That was, incidentally, a song from the very first CD I called my own (I refused to relinquish cassettes until the birth of the [affordable] portable CD player).

So, let’s run the numbers:

~Two very different guys, both equally talented behind closed doors. +2
~Being used. -3
~Sports. +1
~Not being in a relationship with either guy. -2
~Not cheating on anyone. +2
~Being a good lay. +2
~Being nothing more than a good lay. -4
~Hawksley Workman. +5 (yeah,I’m obsessed)
~Not being able to talk to anyone about this bullshit. -2
~Wellbutrin-induced insanity. -4
~Not having to live with someone. +3
~Not getting to share life with someone. -4

I’m too lazy to do the math. And there’s so much more to consider. It’s just too much right now. At the end of the day, I love them both. Neither loves me. I’m never enough.

OPTIMALITY THEORY!!!!!!! That’s the damned ranking method I couldn’t think of several posts ago. In a flash, it came to me with the plusses and minuses. I don’t remember how it works, but I do remember hating it.

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From → fiction, rants

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