I have something to admit.
I am hard to handle. High maintenance.
It’s funny, because in real life, in my true identity, I’m super low maintenance. I never argue, never get in anyone’s face. I’m helpful and not overly emotional. People trust me. They tell me their problems and their fears, and I reassure them. I never bring my own feelings into it. They always stay put away inside me, and I certainly never push them onto others.
But here, in the attic, I’m letting myself I want what I want. Up here, I feel what I feel. Sometimes I’m grumpy and negative. I’m confusing and a mess. I’m not going to pretend otherwise. I’m not apologizing for it. I’m going to show you. I’m going to talk about it.
Last week, twice, Mark gave me what I asked for. And each time, I didn’t like it, or at least I was ambivalent about it. Once he fucked my face, just as I had asked. And while it was happening, I hated it. I felt used. Afterwards, right away, I liked it. I did a complete 180. On Friday, I messed with him on purpose. He asked me to wear my yellow skirt to dinner, and I told him I would. Then, at the last minute, I changed. I have no idea why I did that, or why I was a little disappointed that he wasn’t upset.
I don’t have any good answers. I realize that some of my behaviors are fucked up and immature — I can’t excuse myself. I’m trying to stay honest. I’m trying different things, and I’m reacting to them. It’s interesting and difficult. I’ll tell you when I like something, and I will be straight with you when I don’t.
If you don’t like it, you don’t have to keep reading. And if you notice some of my fucked-up behavior? Go ahead, call me out on it. I want you to.
Oh yeah, and the girl in the video is really hot. She reminds me of a friend.