Afterword
You know I really love you and I’ve been extremely depressed because we have not been able to maintain and keep contact. I know or I think you are only doing what I asked you to do but sometimes I have to honestly say I think the barely existent us is a joke, i’d like to know if it’s always been a joke or did it just happen to be one this time. You are doing what I asked you to do and I am extremely proud of you but I can’t help but say I’ve been extremely depressed since we made that decision. Anyway if we never never never meet again, firdt we met at the Atlanta Fulton Library, then met up again at the Jazz Festival this May I’d like to say whether it was a joke or not I love you, I love you, I love you I’ve never met a man like you,
BUT
But, as I got to thinking about my past life it hit me that men and women sometimes don’t see things the same way I may be passionately in love with you when you touch me, when you hold me i feel things that I’ve never felt before but I cant make you love me and I suppose that’s the strange thing about passion and love sometimes one can feel it and the other can’t and sometimes I ask God Why and How can my body explode from the tips of my toenails to the top of my head and the other person feels nothing.
I mean nothing or they only feel it until their orgasm is over. I don’t know my love but I love you and I have loved you passionately for years but I’m over it the passion has turned to blah and what made me change was the thought of the following experience:
The Story and I Mean the Story
I met Mr. Blank in November the thing that struck me about him was that he was really honest, sincere, tall, and decent looking. I also did not have a car at the time and he seemed willing to let me use his car when I needed. His laid back attitude towards life was just awesome and he happened to be well off he told me he used to be a millionaire and would be again and I’m sure he is back on his feet again by now.
While the sex with him was not great he was hung up on technique and I am incredibly turned on by intelligence and he was sort of dense in terms of politics world affairs, the economy etc. and was extremely narcissistic. His other qualities made me set the goal of doing one thing pleasing him, squeeze I would say to my self as we made love, move I would say to myself as we had sex at that time I felt my skill as a lover was directly related to keeping him and i was rewarded by lets have sex before our date, then after day after day for several months. As the months progressed I began to notice everything that was in his life was a woman and done by a woman, a young women and it began to slightly irritate me to the point where I was sick of trying to work with sex to keep him.
Well one night or early morning he hears a knock on the door at about three am. I hear loud noises a woman crying saying I love you I love you and all he’s saying is get out. I’m like thinking I can’t believe this. He comes back in the bedroom says something and its like nothing happened and I mean nothing happened.
We have sex wake up the next morning and its the same drill but slowly I start noticing things a brush, and the biggest thing was oil in the bathroom like oils you might buy from a vendor in big bottles, I look up and notice burnt candles on the bureau and I know that’s not right. It ends rather blandly he buys me some yogurt from the store its bad and all I say to him is this is awful he starts to quiver and shake and I’m like oh my God I feel like the ex-wife he told me about he’s literally groveling. It ends with a rather fierce fight on the phone I have to tell a relative of his a secret because he has to have someone to talk to and watch out for him. He finds out and tells me you’ll never get any of this dick again and I’m like OK fine.
In any event I say this to say that earlier this week as I ruminated on how madly in love I was with another human being. Oh how passionately so passionate that my stomach hurt, that I cried every moment that I could. I thought about the relationship I had with the man above and how this woman was knocking on the door saying I love You I love and he was literally throwing her out and fucking me without giving her a second thought. I thought Girl you have to stop this man is not calling you that much, only calling when you call back and never initiating a call after the CONVERSATION. He cares nothing for you, for your stomach to continue to hurt like this and for you to continue to be passionately in love with someone who’s probably fucking six other women is ridiculous. Needles to say after thinking about this the affair I was having with myself was literally over. I still think that he’s fabulously intelligent, fabulously endowed, fabulously mannerable and we have mad things in common but it does not seem to be happening. I’ll hang around a little longer because something is telling me to but my stomachs not hurting anymore. Maybe it was just a moment a sweet moment:
