2016-05-19 - 12:24 a.m.
Tonight finds me completely fed up with men. I guess I shouldn't say men, because they act like little boys. I'm so sick and tired of guys just wanting sex from me, or some version of that. After Oscar called me when I was drunk, he came and met me, and I was drunk. I think I had this attitude like "well, fuck it. Sex doesn't really matter anyway. It's not like it'll be a big deal if we do it one more time. It won't mean anything." He comes back to the house, gets in my bed before I even get in my room, and we have sex (if you can call it that) and he gets up, gets dressed, and leaves right away. I remember being mad at him for doing that, but the sex was incredibly short and totally unfulfilling (as per usual with him.) The next day I send him a text telling him not to call me and try to wait until I'm drunk and have sex with me. No reply.
Then a week later on Cinco de Mayo, I'm in bed after going out and drinking with Dad, and I hear a noise at the window. Guess who it is? Oscar, opening the window from outside and poking his little, bald head in. "Chrissie, are you here? Can I stay with you tonight?"
I wasn't pleased. I tell him no, and basically push his little head out of the window. "Go home, Oscar."
Fast forward to another week later, and he texts me as if everything is normal. "What's up?... Want to grab some drinks and hang out?" No, nigga. Are you kidding? You don't want to "hang out." You're hoping the night will end up with me feeling loose enough to screw you, and that's all you're hoping. What for? You're a horrible kisser (assuming you bother to kiss someone before you go straight to the fucking, which is equally horrible) and you don't seem to give a fuck about me. All in the name of fun, though. FUCK THAT.
On another front, Lou texts me a few days ago something like "what are you up to? Do you want to come over?" Why don't guys just say what they mean? You don't "miss me," you just want to fuck. Like I'm dumb enough to Uber out to your shitty apartment in Oakland, have mediocre sex with you, watch you fall asleep and FINALLY fall to sleep myself hours later, then Uber back home in the morning like a slut? No thanks. And even then, I have to hope I don't once again show up on your shitty Instagram page (that advertises how you're going to be alone for the entirety of your lifetime because you treat women like bitches and hoes, taking condescending pictures of them and posting them online, like that's alright.)
Then you have Brian, who (after being told "it's not going to work, I'm looking for more") still texts me in the hope of starting up again a non-relationship where kissing is the main ingredient, a la high school. Meanwhile, on days off he drinks and smokes enough weed to completely pass out or become incoherent (bordering on comatose). Just disappears mid-conversation, then reappears in the morning or shows up hours later and tells ME to come over. Why the fuck is it always MY job to come over, when I'm really the only one with something to offer?
I just can't. It's fucking exhausting. Doesn't anyone want anything more than just a fleeting fuck? It used to be so flattering that guys even looked at me, but now that it happens more frequently than normal, it's no longer "fun" to be solely someone to look at and to want to fuck. Where's the fucking substance?
Meanwhile, you have Scott. (Yes, there's yet another guy.) Had previously flaked on me more than anyone I've ever known (which is saying something), and even flaked on me to meet up to talk about why he was so flaky. WTF? Now, he has a girlfriend who is (surprise! a bartender) but still texts me nearly every weekend to see what I'm up to. Asks me what I'm doing/where I'm going, then disappears. Flakes on me even when we haven't made concrete plans. All because I went out one very fun night with him and made out with him at the end of the night. And what happens with that? He texts me the next day something fucking lame like, "The little devil on my shoulder wants to see what it would be like." When I give a lame excuse that even I don't believe about "not being ready" for sex, he disappears. Fast forward to two months later, he's got a bartender girlfriend, who makes him feel like "a lucky guy" yet here he is, texting me on the weekends to see what I'm up to so that he can flake on me. WHY?????
To top off the list, you have Joaquin. I have a sort of soft spot for Joaquin because he works his ass off, but he fits on this list. I work with him 3-4 nights a week, and even though he is seemingly happily married with two cute kids (and a cute wife, to boot) he still consistently makes remarks about having sex with me. And when I ask him what would happen if I were to get pregnant, he says, "We can have a little girl. I want a girl." Are you kidding me? Nothing sounds more fun than being a single mom with a little girl who wouldn't really be able to know her dad because his WIFE and family come first. GET OUT OF HERE!
These men are making me miserable. I'm a decent MOTHER FUCKING person. Why the FUCK is it so hard to find another fucking decent person who's interested in more than just a meaningless, quick fuck?
All I can hope is that the three shots of Tito's I've had in the last fifteen minutes accompanied by this cigarette will blur out the mess that is my life.
There's got to be more than this. I definitely deserve much more than this.
Goodnight.
