Waiting For Godot...Or Not.

I realise to the untrained eye it may have seemed like I was simply waiting around the house, waiting for him to call. I was not.
I realise my reluctance to be further than 3 feet from the laptop at any given moment would seem as though I was expecting a message from him. I was not.
I realise it could be mistaken as enthusiasm for seeing him that explained the frisson of energy in my chest when I thought about him. It was not.

But there could be no mistaking the look of disappointment in my eyes as the weekend rolled to a close and I had not seen him.

I had been sucked into the trap again, and like a fool, I let myself look like a complete and utter moron.

I should have known better than to believe his kind words. I definitely didn't believe his apologetic words, and he knows that.

He is not used to me standing on my own two feet and making demands. He is not used to being refused, and having cited to him the time of night as being a reason. He has become accustomed to calling when he wants, and I rearrange everything to accomodate him. He now has to show me a little more respect.

Its a funny thing, respect, especially when you are talking about an arrangement between two consenting people. Yes, I am referring to my fuck buddy. Now I'm sure you know the premise upon which a relationship like this can exist. There cannot be any overt pulling or pushing, otherwise the delicate nature of it gets unbalanced. No party must make demands that the other cannot meet within reason. However no party can be offended or feel put out if the other party is unable to meet the reasonable demands.

The understanding lies in that you will only get together if one or more parties has struck out. There has rarely been a time where I have chosen my FB over someone else. And so this is where the lack of respect comes into it.

How can you really respect someone who you only use for sex?

The problem with my FB now is that he is not showing me the utmost respect - thats fine. Thats exactly how I reciprocate. But its when he starts showing me disrespect, that I need to put my foot down. I dont care how well he bends me over backwards or makes me orgasm 8 times in a night, if he is a prick to me, then I should not put up with it.

Thats because I'm not in love with you, and my heart has no chance of getting hurt. My pride, maybe. My groin area, definitely. But my heart is off limits to you.

I made the mistake of letting this boy disrespect me, and now you can be bloody sure that this is never going to happen again.

Isn't it weird though, how much you do put up with people's crap because you love them, or you think you are in love with them. I think I addressed this in an earlier post, so I won't rehash old stuff. I will just state, that love makes the world go round...I wonder if its because we are so busy chasing after the one we love that makes it spin.

Good luck in life and love,

Honey xxx

Kissing Frogs.

Litlemisslucky is back. Those of you who have been privy to my nocturnal ramblings will know exactly what this means.
Those of you who have not, please prepare yourself for the worst.

My new motto in life - you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince.

Watch this space.

Good luck in life and love,

Honey xxx

Return of the Slack.

I think this is my third post know where I've started off by apologising to my non existent readers for being so slack. I cant even discipline myself enough to write a little something every day. Well you know what? Fuck you.
As if you care anyway whether I've written or not. As if the incoherent ramblings that I come up with on a scarily regular basis mean anything to you other than a reason to imperceptibly tut. As if anyone realises that what I'm saying drowning, not waving.
I mean, thats my role in life isnt it? To be the one that everyone can make fun of, to be the one that people invite to parties because I'm loud and strangers can gel over my lack of social graces. I'm a human icebreaker - just add alcohol.

I begrudgingly admit - this is a role that i play well. And for a while, I revelled in such a role. It afforded me a notoriety that was amusing for a time.

But people can often grow too familiar and it can be offensive and hurtful sometimes. The trouble is, I cant deny any of it.

If you are reading this with a growing sense of alarm and recognition, I salute you sister. Its tough being the butt of everyone's joke.

If you accuse me of being a party animal who doesnt know when to say no, that's me.

If you accuse me of being frivolous with money and not having a safe financial status at any given moment, thats me.

If you accuse me of being lackadaisial about my friends and the effort thats put in to see each pther, thats me.

If you accuse me of being something of a procrastinator, thats me, tomorrow.

If you accuse me of being promiscuous and a little relaxed with my sexual graces, that's me.

But when you call me a drunken whore with little or no morals - why are you so surprised that I might be offended by that?

Sure, we put on a brave face, and laugh it off with everyone else. But take the time to notice that after that, the glass may tremble a little as we lift it to our lips. We may take a few more sips than is necessary, so we dont have to make conversation for a few precious seconds. If we do have to say something, our voice may catch slightly in our throats. And then the bravado kicks in. Because what can we say to defend ourselves?

I was just being me. And this weekend, I was crucified for being me. It kind of makes me not want to be me anymore.

Good luck in life and love,

Honey xxx