For a few weeks there it seemed like I might have someone to do Valentine’s stuff for for the first time since my valentines arrived in a decorated shoe box.
That fantasy is dead.
I will not hang out with a guy who thinks of his partner as a parking lot for his penis.
I can’t be with a person who thinks he can earn blowjobs with compliments.
I won’t let a guy near me who refuses to eat a woman out because vaginas are “gross.”
Love and romance are not the final word for me. I’m not going to settle for anyone because I’m afraid of being alone.
This Valentine’s day I’m going to do what I’ve done for the past 5 years; drink a bottle of wine, watch Silence of the Lambs, then masturbate gloomily until I fall asleep. I would rather do that 1000 times than sit through a night with someone who doesn’t love me as much as I love myself.
So yeah, this is my angry single woman post. I needed to write something after what happened with that guy. I was excited to have one thing in my life that I could look forward to, but nah. I was not that emotionally invested anyway (because of trust issues) but this just takes me further down the rabbit hole of bitterness. There’s definitely a part of me that wants to just fuck around to piss him off since I made him wait so long. idk. dgaf. galf. w/e