Emotional check

I'm sorry if I've been wah, wah, wah, and blah, blah, blah lately, but fuck you. I need to figure out what's going on upstairs and this is the only forum I have. Plus too between the blahs and the wahs I hope you're at least secretly smiling to yourself that your life isn't this nuts.

SD had been described of late as my girlfriend with male insight. Of course that is until he rediscovered he had a dick. Yes he was on my mind and yes I was thinking how I needed to get laid and rather than deal any of the bullshit between Twiggy Fuck and Southern Boy I decided to head out to my local bar stool.

I got a text message from SD as I was leaving work. I texted back, "I hate you for reading my mind". This resulted in a phone call which resulted in him meeting me at the bar.

I beat him there for which I was grateful because I wanted some time alone with my beer and misery. All the boys could tell something was off with me as I mustered up a smile and put on diaphanous facade.

McSpic was there and polite enough not to comment on my real mood. He was surprised to hear Twiggy Fuck and I were still together and he said it was a good thing. Yeah, right. Then he talked about how this one soccer team beat another soccer team and it was a huge upset. Cool story about Unicef which somehow made me think of Audrey Hepburn and gave me hope.

Alone with my thoughts I came to realize emotionally this feels the same way it does when I left Fuckhead. I am terrified to move, yet know it's over and can't stand not moving forward. The advice giving to me then is the advice I took last night. Stop thinking and start drinking.

SD shows up, tells me he won at poker and then offered to buy a round of car bombs and beer. I asked him if he's sure. He said a round of red headed sluts would be cliche. Obviously he hasn't been out with Secede Snot Rocket and I. She loves the way I can throw them down, but it's dangerous. I barely beat him, but as I said to him that's because I'm out of shape. He said, "No, you beat me, barely." I replied,"Yeah, that's because I'm out of shape. Otherwise, I would have totally kicked your ass."

I went outside to smoke, hoping if I smelt enough like an ash tray I'd get left alone. SD and I talked some more, and he was a good sounding wall for the practical side of things. I was nearly in tears when I said I couldn't even get Twiggy Fuck to kiss me anymore. I had him cracking up when I said,"Promise me when we're old and gray, we'll be room mates in the nursing home." He nearly spit his beer and replied,"Yeah, you're too bitter not to grow old." I gave him a look and then laughed.

Soon the bar was shutting down and SD and I were outside on the sidewalk. We embraced to say goodbye and before I could stop him he was kissing me. I'm not sure if the hair pull killed it or not, but there was no spark. Just to make sure, I let the kiss linger long enough to let passer by's taunt us about public affection. One in the group said, "Ignore him. He hasn't gotten laid in a while." I replied "What makes you think we're acting this way? It's been a while for both of us, too."

After a few rounds of debate, I went home alone. I realize this morning that I can no longer just go through the motions of sex, which is probably why I haven't returned to the pole. Like a patron said to me once," If you're going to give it to me, then make it real".

So, I was thankful last night the only meat I pulled off a stick was from the corn dog I inhaled when I got home in hopes of staving off this morning's hangover.