Case of the Ex

We are exes for a reason. We fell in love, tried, then as time went on, we fell out of love. Time changes, people change, love fades, but you sir, I still have love for you and it will always be unconditionally so.

You met me when I was just a girl. Sure I was a barely legal hitting up the college scene tumblr_m06nyh5rOL1r67iiqo2_250in this beautiful city, but nonetheless a girl. I didn’t know how taxes worked, I still asked my mom for help with homework, I slept with a bed full of teddy bears, and I still drew hearts over every single fucking photo with Ewan McGregor. (sigh, such a babe).

You were older, only by a few years, you weren’t neither a man nor a boy. You at this time, is what I would call a ‘man-child’. You worked at Blockbuster, dropped out of school, lived at home with mom and pops. You were independent, but couldn’t quite make it out in the world solo.

Then Girl and Man-child met.

I remember it vividly.

I remember the couple weeks that followed.

I remember the first 8 months we were together.

I remember our 8 years together.

I remember them all, and I remember them well.

You and I, Sir, we certainly have been through a lot. Infidelity, financial crisis, deaths, starting/attempting to have a family, health scares, celebrations and everything else that comes with being in your favourite person’s life. We really have been through it all.

What I am trying to say in all of this me reminiscing is thank you. You have seen me at my worst, and you have seen me at my best. And in a time like this, when I am feeling lower than ever, when death is constantly teasing me, you sir, you are still here. After 10 fucking years you are still here. And I know it probably seems crazy that I am somewhat taken aback by this, but some friends have all but left me over the last couple months, They don’t like the person I have become, they don’t like the choices I make, and so in turn, instead of trying to aid me in becoming my old happy self again, they have left me. But you, you Sir are still here.

I know it hurts you to see me struggling. But you have helped me so much. You answer my phone calls when I just need someone to talk to, you check in with me, you help me with Barrie, you are more than just an ex who has become a friend. You are such an integral part of my life, you are my family, and I’ll forever love you for it.

You know, sometimes, I think back and I wonder why we didn’t work. This is silly because you and I know why. We were just too different. We certainly put in a valiant effort. If 8 years together doesn’t say something, I don’t know what does.

When we decided to part ways. It was sad. I was sad because you were my first love, and although I still loved you, I was no longer in love with you. It wasn’t fair to you for me to tag along trying to be something I wasn’t, trying to feel something I couldn’t. I remember I was quite erratic. One day I wanted to be with you, and the next I was glad we parted. But you Sir, you said we needed to do this. If we are meant to be it will happen again. And so at some point we tried again, and realized quite quickly that perhaps its best we move on. I am glad we made this choice.

I love how now, we are so open with each other, that I can call you when I’m doing a walk of shame home. Usually, our conversation starts off with “Sir, I’ve done it again….” Then followed by laughter and potentially a life lesson. I love that you let me help you with your dating profile and you update me on your love life, or lack there of for that matter. (KIDDING!!!). I love that we aren’t even fuck buddies, which is pretty impressive for me since 99.9% of all my male friends, I’ve banged. I love that you have seen me grow from just a girl into a woman. Mostly, I love that you still love me, you accept me for all my flaws, you are willing to put in the effort to help me get better, you are a true friend.

With all my heart, with all my love,

Thank you Sir,

Cait

An Open Letter

Dear Friends, Family, all those who I love, and all you strangers out there,

Please know I am really trying. I am trying to make it on my own in this big beautiful world, but times are difficult now. You all know I have many issues, I’m depressed, I have severe anxiety, I’m bulimic, I drink all the time, and I pop pills like tic tacs. Straight up, I’m fucked up. I’ve made shitty choices, done stupid stuff, hurt the ones I loved, I am all but for caring anymore.

I thought I hit rock bottom last year, but it seems as though I keep falling, and the ones I thought would catch me, have distanced themselves. They are tired of seeing me fall, and tired of carrying my weight. I am very saddened by this, but I suppose I understand.

I can brush it off, I’m a woman with scraped knees, bruised soul and a heart that is in a never ending state of always breaking.

To my family back home. You know I love you all, very much so. But please, it is very hard for me to be away. I am sad I have never met my little niece, I am remorseful that I can’t be there for all your birthdays and life celebrations, I am constantly feeling guilt for not being able to be there all the time. But please know I am, I am always here, a phone call away, I am always here. But please understand, I love this city. I came out here when I was 17, with big dreams and aspirations. Now, I am almost 30, those dreams and aspirations haven’t left me yet. But it takes time. I also have priorities. I have my boy Barrie and my little kitty Olive to take care of. I have friends I take care of out here. Don’t worry, I am figuring out how to take care of myself, but again it takes time, patience, and support from all of you.

I talked to two people today, both who I love dearly. They both expressed their concern for my well-being. More so in the sense, that all my bad habits will ultimately lead to my demise. Please don’t think that way. Everyone goes sometime, whatever will be will be, but I am trying to change. I am trying to die an old lady, warm in my bed. I will admit to this however. Suicide is a constant tease for me. Maybe death isn’t so boring, maybe it’s a wondrous thing after all. I would be able to see my grandma again and my best friend. I would be able to tell them how much I love them and how much I missed them, and how happy I am.

I almost ended my time here once. This was in the fall of last year. I was no longer on medication at this point. I stopped drinking, and wasn’t doing drugs. I was really trying to be my old self again. I had fallen in love, and it was very hard for me to watch the one I loved so dearly move on. I was so sad, I did everything he wanted, I changed my ways for him. Anyways, this particular night I couldn’t sleep. I was restless. I had all these thoughts running inside my head. What did I do wrong? How can we go back to what we had before? What am I doing? I always fuck everything up!!!

11136654_10100458342870173_3235526434844555125_nI got out of bed. Walked into the kitchen, opened the drawer, and grabbed a pair of scissors. Blade to my wrist, eyes closed, tears coming down and just as I felt my wrist becoming warm with liquid, I heard a whimper. Barrie. I turned around and he just stood there whimpering, looking at me. I dropped the scissors, grabbed a cloth, and went over to him. Barrie, my boy, he knew I was sad. He knew I was hurting, and out of everyone in my life, he was always there for me. I couldn’t leave him. He saved me. I can honestly say, if I didn’t have him in my life, I wouldn’t be here right now. And I still have moments where I look at the tiny scar on my wrist and I want to be embraced my death itself, but Barrie. My boy Barrie. He keeps me here.

Now, please don’t be sad for me friends, I’m okay. I’m always okay. All I ask is you for you to understand I am trying, I really am. But it gets harder, the more I am being pleaded to stop, and begged to come back east. I need to do this. I need to get through this, Barrie and I.

Always,

Cait

Waterproof Make Up is Overrated

Folks, waterproof make up is overrated. This past week has put it to the test, and it failed miserably. Alright, now I’ll fess up with how I know this.

Last year was very up and down for me, I had my good days, I had my bad days and towards the end of the year most of my days were good days. So good they were wonderful. I was branching out with different career opportunities, I wasn’t partying nearly as much, Barrie and I were meeting lots of canine friends, and my ‘not’ relationship was finding itself again.

But I don’t know what happened. It was like 2017 smacked the side of my head and said hey there little lady….new year, same you, you sad sack of shit…. (Insert sad/annoyed emoji). Since January, I’ve been nothing but overthinking, and feeling. And ya’ll know I strongly dislike the idea of feeling, having feelings, caring for things etc. And overthinking brings on anxiety, and anxiety brings on thoughts that may or may not be true, which brings on more anxiety because I don’t know whether they are or not, which brings on sadness and utter defeat. I lose.

I’m not keeping track but I’ve probably cried at least 3 to 4 times a day, everyday since the new year. In the morning I cry, on my way to work I cry (sometimes at work I cry), my drive from work I cry and in bed I cry. I cry, I cry, I cry, like a big baby. I can’t control it. I’ve cried so much I am surprised my tear ducts haven’t dried up. Part of me thinks all this waterworks stuff has to do with me not crying or even having actual feelings for years and years. I was ‘dead’ inside then, now I am alive and it is so not worth it. Not even in the least bit.

I don’t want to be awake. Mostly I don’t want to be awake when I am alone. It’s a sad place to be. Don’t be alarmed, this is not to say I don’t want to exist, but I would rather be sleeping, just get lost in some sort of Slumberland, where I am not a depressed individual. Instead, I am Cait The Lovely! Who rides a unicorn and has a cotton candy bed!!! Unfortunately reality doesn’t allow for such pleasures.

sadpandaLately I have been leaving my house early for work. Sometimes 2 to 3 hours before work. I leave early because I don’t want to be home. I then find a place to grab a coffee, which I may or may not drink, and I drive around. Driving used to make me feel better. In some truth it still does. But I cry folks, I cry and cry and cry and before I know it I look like a panda. Mascara and eyeliner down my face, perhaps I look more like a sad mime, a disgruntled Beetlejuice, Morticia Addams, one of the Kardashians. Fuck, I don’t know, what ever I look like, well I am sure there is a meme out there somewhere for it.

I’m losing myself friends, I’m drowning in tears that are surely falling for ridiculous reasons. I’m lost in all this sappy and mushy shit. Emotions are exhausting, feelings are suffocating, and when they are placed inside my used-to-be hollow self… … …well, maybe I just shouldn’t wear make up anymore.

A Love Letter

Hello There,

I am writing a letter to you my love, and yes I know some may consider letters as rather passe, but for what ever the reason, writing is the only way I feel I am able to communicate, fully and completely so. This being said, I’ll start once again.

Hello There,

I am writing this letter to you, to allow you to see me as who I am. To understand where I come from, to see how deeply I feel for you, and in all essence, this letter is me giving you my heart.And you are right, I am not one for all this sappy shit, but today is an exception. Especially, since being hungover, depressed and lonely, makes all the more welcoming of sappy sad sacks of facts of …me.

I love you. You know this. I love you so much so, that I think about you constantly. I wake up and you are my first thought (Side Note: I don’t process thoughts or think until I am sitting on my porcelain throne taking my morning shit). I always want to call you, but rarely do. This is so because I don’t have anything to say, just having you on the other line, present in some sort of moment with me, is all I need. Obviously only crazy, people would seriously call for this reason right? That being said, Hey there stranger, if you ever want to just be on the phone with me just to be, HOLLAR! Fortunately for me, you are always the first one to call, just to tell a story. Which is perfect because I always have so little to say and I like stories.

It’s weird for me. I love you, and you are said to be in love with me. But I am afraid to show affection towards you. I think this is because we did show affection quite early on and although it may have repulsed others by us making out like two young hormonal twats, I loved every minute of it. I feel as though that perhaps I embarrass you if I try to show a little PDA. And maybe so because we are not a couple. You are my not boyfriend and I am your not girlfriend and together we are not a couple that do not couple-ly things.

I remember we would drive around, I would have my hand on your leg or in your hand, and you would hold it or caress it. Sure, it’s something small, but this something small, is hard for me to now. I worry that it won’t be reciprocated.

I have never felt jealousy until I met you. This of course is not counting the time, one of my siblings got a PS3 for Christmas and I was left with a leg lamp (legit, true story). Now let me explain this a little more. I am not the jealous type. The only time I am jelly is when it’s  spread on a peanut butter sandwich (mmmmmm….peanut butter). In the beginning of our liaisons I wasn’t jealous at all. I simply couldn’t be. We were both playing the same game, we both were eating our cake, it was all good. Now it’s different. I think is comes from us being not boyfriend and not girlfriend, it makes me want to hold on to you even more. It makes me paranoid, it makes me sad, because although I don’t ever wish to have ownership over a human being, not really being your girlfriend, well….there is no comfort in that. I met you at time when you had a not girlfriendThis is where I think the jelly creeps in..

I had a really nice time with you the other night. We stayed up way too late, popped some fun stuff, drank, conversed and played video games. It was awesome. It was probably the one time in the last little while that I could see you were enjoying my company and I wasn’t a burden to you. It even ended with sexy time that I didn’t even have to initiate. (#nailedit.)

I love you, you know this. It is extremely hard for me to love you so and just be your friend. I wasn’t ready for a relationship for a very long time, but with you, I love you. Why couldn’t we give it a go so to speak? Everyone always bitches and moans about putting a label on something. I get it, I do. But something like this, why not? Can’t I just be yours and you mine?

When you first told me you loved me, I was sad. Sad because I couldn’t help but be fearful that it wouldn’t last. Sad because I loved you too and for whatever reason I always seem to fuck everything good up. Truly, everything good I have or had just goes to shit. You are part of my good, I don’t want to lose that too.

Yes, I over think things. You know this And perhaps a good portion of this love letter is just over thinking. But I can’t help but feel so deeply, and love so madly that for something to not come of it is…it’s okay. But I simply don’t want to be around it because I hurt. As much as I love you, being around you makes it more painful, because although you are right in front of me, I’ve already lost you.

Alas, my not boyfriend. I would like to say I couldn’t tell you this in person because I have lost the words, but clearly I have more than a few words.

I do love you. You are wonderful.

Love Always,

Cait.

Cait Interrupted

Hi friends,

Alas, where do I even begin…

Monday I was admitted into emergency. Now, in my mind absolutely no real emergency whatsoever. I say this because, for the last two days I was just indifferent. I felt empty, I felt like any feeling I ever felt was gone and that for the remainder of my so-called life I would always feel just this…just…desolate. Cait’s very own wasteland. A place that used to be bumping full of energy and smiles and happy-go-lucky type shit. Now it’s just nothing. An abandoned amusement park, no longer amusing.786e44a15f57dded1b6359cd0e6cfd32

This year has been quite the rollercoaster to say the least and fuck do I ever hate using that metaphor, but it is so true. Up and down, then stalls, then up and down, then some bitch loses her phone because she’s a fucking idiot for trying to take a selfie with a phone……UGH!!!!!!!!!!! This ride isn’t fun anymore.

I called my mom on Monday. I was sad. I often call mom when I am sad. I don’t mean too, and I hate to have her feel helpless because she isn’t here, but there are only few people I feel semi-okay/butnotreally/butitstheclosestIwillgettofeelingcomfortablewithsomeone.

If mom is busy, I call the ex. Now, before you guys go to any conclusions let me explain something to you. My ex and I have been broken up for two years now. In the beginning I would do my best not to call him in these moments, simply because I didn’t want him to feel used. I didn’t want him to feel like I only called him because for 8 years we were together and it was routine, it was comfort. However, he knows me. He knows I’m incredibly stubborn, he knows I hate feet, he knows the scars on my body (inside and out), he knows about my secret obsession with nutcrackers (shhhhh it’s a secret!). He just knows me. He perhaps, is my closest confidant.

On Monday, after being on the phone with my mom, I called the ex. We decided it was time to take me in. Where folks? TO THE LOONY BIN OF COURSE! Kidding! I get I’m crazy, but I am not quite girl interrupted yet. Hospital it is.

On the way to there, I was thinking two things: 1) This isn’t a real emergency? 2) So craving a Happy Meal…

We get there and it isn’t busy one bit. Thank gawd too. I would hate to have someone with a machete in their head or someone birthing a goat have to wait on me just because I am having a sad, sad day.

I was shocked. And I don’t know why I was so shocked, but when I got there everyone was so comforting. The nurses seem to genuinely care about my well being. They didn’t want me to leave, they didn’t want me to feel sadness anymore, they truly wanted to help me. So much in fact they bumped me up before a sick baby. Sorry sick baby, but Cait’s a baby too….

They brought me in to see a psychoanalyst. I forget her name, but she was quite lovely. They also brought in a general physician.I was broken friends. I couldn’t stop feeling sad, I couldn’t stop crying. How did I let it get to this point? ME! Cait the mother fucking great, the toughest cookie in town was crumbling.

I talked to ….lets call her Miss Lovely (psychoanalyst). She truly was lovely. She seemed to have compassion for me, she wanted to understand, she genuinely was listening to all my words and ramblings. She asked me questions, upon questions, but for once I didn’t mind. She asked me about my drug use, I was honest. About my diet, I was honest, about any past or present relationships and in that I tried not to share. I tried not to be honest, but in the end she knew the whole story.

Miss Lovely, then talked to the ex. Since he knows me best, sometimes I think better than I know myself. They both came in a short time later.

I will now be going to an outpatient treatment center. Just to have someone to talk to once 3a51a-depressiontwo8-2in awhile. Someone who can hopefully help me sort out my shit. Someone who is either willing or at least paid to listen to my stories (and I got lots of them stories).

It was funny, on the drive home, the ex turn towards me and… Miss Lovely was so fuck foxing, I should got her number….ugh!!!!! BOYS!!! We had a laughed. He dropped me off, helped cleaned my place a bit, tucked both Bear and I into bed and then it was Tuesday. A new day, still a sad one, but then it’ll be Wednesday, then Thursday, and if it’s true what They say (who ever They are), every day gets better. And I’ve finally taken steps to get better myself.

Swipe Left

Alright, folks. I must, MUST tell you all about a date I had recently. As you guys know by now I am single and although I am not quite ready to fla-mingle and get into another relationship, I’ve been hitting up the dating scene. I mean fuck, why not….free dinner, free movie….right?

Now, I am not really one for dates. Perhaps it has to do with never really going on one. My last relationship lasted eight years, and I can’t even remember us going on a date ever. Any who, so ya dating scene, is so not mine, but hey, it’s 2016, gotta stretch out a bit and try new things.

Lets get to the story now.

So I knew this guy, lets call him Bruce. Now, that is so not his name at all, but I always thought he looks like a Bruce. I always pictured Bruce’s as big burly men, slightly toned, but not enough to be a juice head. Bruces should be tall, polite, and mysterious. They generally have big foreheads, short brunette hair and only wears glasses to read.

So Bruce and I have known each other for years. In fact, he was one of the first people I met when I moved out here back in ’05. We went to the same university, and for the first two years in school we were involved in each other’s social circle. Eventually, he left to do a field study across the world. We kept in touch through emails, Facebook and even writing letters. (YASSS, it’s true, I still write letters.) 

When he came back a year later, we didn’t really see too much of each other. We had different majors, I made new friends, and he made new friends. We just drifted apart.Don’t worry friends, it’s not a sad drift. We just didn’t really have much in common anymore.

So flash forward to 2016.

I was getting fitted for a costume for this ‘Masquerade’ scene for a terrible, terrible movie. (Hint: 50 shades of terrible). While the designer was sewing me into a gigantic gown, I noticed a Bruce size man across from me. He was being attended by another lady. This Bruce size man, was wearing a mask and a tuxedo. (OH so mysteri-o-so). Not going to lie, I was slightly turned on.

To my surprise this Bruce size man was having the time of his life. He was smiling, chatting up the costume fitter and then he started to sing. Wait for it……When the moon…..is in the southern sky….and Jupiter aligns with Mars……

I couldn’t help but have a laugh. Just a little. So as he is singing, and as I am watching this Bruce size man do so, I belt out…. Age of Aquarius! Hey, can you blame me. This lady had been sewing me into this gown for what felt like hours, and this Bruce size man was my only form of entertainment. On top of that, I wanted to bang him.

He looked up at me. He smiled. Looked down. Then back up. Then back down. And did this rrepeatedly for a time. What a fucking wierdo…..Then he looks back up one more time….and…..Caitlin Ann! It is you? What the fuck is this man going on about. Of course it’s me, it’s been me since ’87. But who the fuck is this dude? Caitlin Ann, it’s me, Bruce. SFU? Resident buddies? Book club? HOLY FUCKBALLS! Took me a second to realize it was him. It’s the mask, man. Sorry it’s been too long my friend. {Side note: I never belonged to the book club officially, I just went for the food.}

Now I am all for conversation. I am also all for shooting the shit with strangers. But I am also for this lady to stop sewing me in this gown, and for this semi- awkward conversation to be over.Luckily it was. His fitting was done. FUCK MY LIFE! Now, I’m going to be on set with this fucker…Let me just clarify some things here. He’s a nice guy, I like him, but I wasn’t looking forward to making up small talk with an old friend. On top of that, my want to tap his ass, lasted a span of seconds and I was over it.

So yadadada…yadada….get on set…..shit happens…..yadada yadada….asks me on a date…..yada yada yadada….

Flash forward to the date.

Havanas on Commercial (Already, Bruce is getting points.) I LOVE HAVANAS. However, he loses points when I have to meet him there, because he still rides a bicycle.(Yay, for being environmentally friendly, but nay for being a pain in the ass for pedestrians and drivers everywhere).

So I arrived late, which is incredibly unlike me. I am usually the first bitch on the scene, but I wanted Bruce to know, that I have changed. That I am now, a woman, no longer a girl. No longer, Caitlin Ann but, Cait. 

Hes there already. Of course he is.

He greets me. Now, I’ve should have known it in this moment that this wasn’t going to be worthwhile. He walks over, arms wide open, gives me a hug and… wet willies my ear. MY FUCKING EAR. DUH FUCK?! I haven’t been wet willied since Full House fucking ended. I seriously felt violated. On top of his gross nasty ass fingers, being inside my ear, I haven’t cleaned my ears in months. Ugh…..

Moving on.

We get a table. He pulls out a chair as though it is for me and then proceeds to sit on the chair himself. He then laughs. DUH FUCK? Is this kid playing with me. Who the fuck are you? We are damn near thirty and so far you finger banged my ear, and teased me with a chair. So I quickly order myself a scotch (two of them, both doubles). 

So we for the most part we were just catching up. But he was constantly interrupting everything I was saying. LIKE EVERYTHING. I’m all for two sided conversations, ya know. I don’t want to hear my voice all the time, but I also don’t want to hear someone else’s cutting me off. At some point the conversation was becoming one sided. In fact, Bruce compiled all his stories of the last 9 years, we haven’t seen each other. Get this, Bruce pulls out a fucking piece of paper, that had a list of what he wanted to cover. NO JOKE! He opened it up and went down the list. I heard everything, from his time in Austrailia, his threesome in New Orleans, his Masters Degree, the time he stole a gerbil from a pet store and sold it too his coke dealer, toilet papering his ex’s house, the new book club he’s the Chairman of, his Halloween costume of every year since and the list goes on and on and fucking on…..Friends, this was so exhausting. I tried not to listen, but killing kittens would have been easier.

Alas, now we are eating. Maybe with food in his mouth, I can enjoy my meal. Nope! Not even close. He talked about where he is now in his life. How much money he has, all the people he knows, where he lives now…So I ordered myself a couple more scotches (singles this time, I have to drive after all).

By the time the bill came, Mr.Money Bags, has forgotten his wallet. (Mic Drop). I was actually shocked. I grab the bill and just as I am about to grab my card, he orders himself another beer. As much as I wanted to bounce ASAP I wasn’t going to stiff the server. I paid.

Ladies and gentlemen! PRIZE FOR THE DOUCHIEST OF DOUCHE BAGS, GOES TO THIS FUCKWAD RIGHT HERE!

So bills paid, we walk out together, asks me to come over. I decline. I let him know it was ‘interesting’ catching up and I wished him all best and B lined for my car.

How the fuck did I think going on a date with this lad would be fun?I mean we drifted apart years ago, why would I even entertain rekindling an old friendship. Honestly, what the fuck was I thinking. Not a great date. Not by any means.

Definitely swipe left for this fuck, GEEZE!

 

The White Whale

Well, well, well, folks…you missed me, haven’t you? I know, I know it has been quite some time since I put my beautiful poetics on the good ol’ inter-web, but alas, the time has come. I shall name this one….

The White Whale 

A tale of a girl with a rapist’s mentality to conquer a total babe. Two years in the making! (Hint: she totally nails him…..DDAAAAAAYYYYYYUUUMMMM)

crazy-man-with-white-whale-cartoon-fun-hd-wallpaper

This tale starts, with a very starry eyed, lonely, horny, girl (That’s me). I was nearing the end of a relationship and my eyes were already wandering. What new crop does the world have to offer me? Now, working in an industry where I am constantly surrounded by alcohol and assholes, the world was my oyster and my oyster was definitely enjoying the hunt.

Now, I assure you, I was a good girl. While still committed to then said boyfriend, all I did was look. Then looking turned into flirting (harmless albeit), then flirting turned into touching myself thinking of other people, which turned into screwing my partner and thinking of other people, which turned into….BITCH, YOU GUESSED IT. Single Cait, at your service.

Once, I was single, I was ready to FLA-MINGLE, spread my mother fucking wings/legs and fly/ride.

One night, after a long boring ass shift, my coworker and I decided to flood down to a hole in the wall place to sip some brewskies. We sat our butts at what seemed to be the only spot available in this dive of a bar, and then……a bright light shone on yours truly and this beautiful angel of a man emanated from the…..NAH….TOTALLY FUCKING KIDDING.

Don’t worry I won’t give your hopes up. We sat down, and this dude walks over throws down his menus and says ‘Cait, what can I get you?‘ Cait?Duh fuck you mean, Cait? This handsome mother fucker knows my name?… Clearly, he saw the potentially cross-eyed and confused looked on my face and politely reminded me, I was still wearing my name tag. Smart ass.

I will say this, what I thought was our first encounter…well…my curiosity was mildly, and I will repeat mildly peaked when this blonde hair, (still don’t remember the colour of his eyes), fit, beast of a babe walked into my sights and decided to show me whose boss. Ladies, my eyes where on fire, my heart was a thumping and my vagina was tingling all over!

After a couple of cheeky beverages and some late night nasty grub, our bills were handed out. Fuck, I made maybe 80$ that night in tips and ending up spending 180$, FAAACCKKK, but YOLO so…. I give this bodacious of a server my hand, full of cash to pay my debt and he slyly whispers in my ear….“I didn’t know your name based on your name tag, I knew your name because you served me last week” MOTHER FUCKER! Not only is he sly, but he’s polite, and cheeky and a babe. A total fucking, babe….This moment, this very moment folks, is when I knew I will bang this cocky ass, one day. I will conquer him…just you wait beautiful, beefcake, just you wait…..

***

Flash forward to some point in the future…

***

My reputation as what some would call a ‘slag’ and what I would call a ‘connoisseur of men’ began circulating the town. Perfect, I thought, this is totally my in. Mr. babe-a-licious server, was quite the Casanova himself. Slutting around the New West streets, like the little man whore he is. (Fuck, surely if anyone could tap that, I could) We, were alike, two harlots, screwing left, right and centre. I’m telling you folks, you couldn’t find any other two hussies who were meant to do the sideways shuffle. Seriously, Christian Mingle couldn’t even find a more slut-tastic match. (Side Note: All of Gods children are hoes).

Every so often, my coworkers and I would head to the hole in the wall, spend all our tip money, and talk about fuck all. While these conversations were quite riveting, I was off daydreaming about Mr. Womanizing Cad. Sure enough, a few scotches in I would attempt to make these daydreams a reality. How? Well, with my wry wit of course!

hey handsome, is my vagina sweating or are you just that hawt!

hey sexy thang, I don’t need a spoonful of sugar to swallow you.

hey man of my wet dreams….. 

So what, I was completely out of practice. I haven’t had to pick up a dude since I snatched my ex up back in ’08. But, he liked it, I could tell. Obviously, he was used to being nothing but a sex object to all the  ladies (I’m sure a few of the old bags carpal tunneled the shit out their digits just thinking of him). BUT! As I was saying he liked it. I mean no I didn’t bring him home with me ever in those times, but he laughed. And you know what if that’s all I could get from this guy, I’ll take it…….for now. MUAHAHAHAHAHA….

This charade lasted two years. TWO YEARS FRIENDS! Do I have persistence or what? No man has ever resisted my charm, and as much as it drove me crazy that he was consistently shutting me down, I wanted him more. He was my the unattainable, the irresistible, he was my white whale. Call me Caitlin, I will not be left afloat, I will conquer.

Eventually the white whale left the hole in the wall, and my want to go evaporated….For a moment and only a moment I thought, maybe I won’t succeed in my mission. But only for a moment!

We surprisingly reached out to one another at some point. Sexting and sexting and more sexting and then BAM!

NAILED IT!

Haha, now it didn’t quite happen like that, but I assure you its rather dull and well, a lot of dick pics folks, a lot of fucking dick pics.

So this moment, right. This moment that I had built up in my head for two years, this moment that was supposed to be ethereal and euphoric. Ummmm….was not so. He was too much in his head. At least I thought he was. I suppose it is a lot of pressure though. You have one girl who has been wanting  you for so long and now you are concerned you can’t deliver. Fuck, I was concerned at one point he couldn’t deliver either. Eventually, he delivered all over my chest and we passed the fuck out.

Now, I’m like a ninja in the mornings. I always leave before the sun comes up. In this case, part of me wanted to stay, and the other part wanted to leave asap. I followed my other part.

So kind of awkward right. You build up all this stuff in your head of how you imagine that moment to be, and it wasn’t what you expected. Either way, my mission was accomplished. He came, I conquered.

So at some point we decided to have another go at it. We realized the first wasn’t that ideal, lets try a second. So we did, and then tried a third, a fourth, a fifth, and then when he started asking me about my family while I was riding him, I realized…..nope! Not meant to be. We gave it a go, and more than a few times, and it just ain’t in our stars to create beautiful sexy sideways sessions.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret anything. It also wasn’t terrible either, our bodies just didn’t jell. And yes, he is still on my top 10 list of booty calls, and being 7 ain’t so bad.

This, my folks…is the story of my white whale.

#nailedit