She slapped a hand over her mouth and glanced around the room. That word was naughty. When she looked back down at the checkbook, she groaned into her hand. 

“Oh. No.” She slumped down into the chair as what she’d done truly dawned on her. 

Her responsiblity, the one thing she was good at, was managing the finances for the house. Keeping the checkbook balanced, paying the bills, and managing the saving accounts. She was quick, efficient, and always stayed on top of things… Until today. 

Too late, she realized she’d sent out a bunch of bills and over drafted the main account. Not too serious if they weren’t at the time of year where money hovered on the tight side. He was in between big projects and she was off for her usual holiday from work to regulate herself mentally. 

“Fuck,” she whispered this time, at a loss for what to do. 

She quickly ran through her options, but couldn’t get her thoughts to see beyond the mistake. Panic was starting to rise rapidly and with it sharp disappointment in herself. Just one job and she couldn’t manage it without making a stupid mistake, one task and she… 


Her head popped up. She hadn’t even realized she’d laid it down. The recriminations had sent her spiraling before she could stop. 

“Hi, Daddy.” She couldn’t muster a smile, her heart beating so wildly she worried she’d pass out. 

He’d crossed the room in an instant, one hand going to her nape to steady her. “Focus on me, Kitten. I’m here, focus on me.”

It took a few minutes, but his presence anchored her and her breathing calmed. He massaged her neck and shoulders until she melted into his touch. 

“Now tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was gentle. 

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” She squeaked. 

“That’s five with the cane, Kitten.” 

She swallowed hard, considering lying so she could fix the situation, but she knew he’d find out eventually. She drooped in her seat a little as she considered how to tell him. 

“Daddy…” she looked up at him. There was only caring and concern in his eyes. She took a deep breath and told the truth. “I messed up the checkbook. Bad.” 

When she would’ve hid her face in her hands, her held her still with that staying hand at her nape. 

His expression didn’t change much, expect for a narrowing of his eyes. “Explain.” 

She did so as quickly and concisely, not sparing herself. He said very little after she stopped speaking, his mind seemingly in another place. When he focused on her again, he still had the same caring look firmly in place. 

“You messed up, Kitten.” 

Her whole body seemed to deflate. She’d disappointed him, she’d ruined everything and — 

“But,” he continued with a squeeze at her neck to settle her, “it’s fixable. I keep extra cash for emergencies, you know.” 

She felt horrible for making him use it. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve been more diligent.” 

“Stop.” Her mouth shut before she could say anything else. “You’re going to be punished, Kitten. Here’s why, and I want you to listen to me closely when I say this: you’ve made a mistake, and punishment comes because of mistakes, but this punishment is just as much a reminder to stop being so hard on yourself.”
She felt tears prick her eyes as she tried to absorb his words into her soul. 

“Everyone makes mistakes, big mistakes. When you mess up all you need to remember is you’re not perfect and that’s okay, but you’re still amazing at what you do. Come to me instead of letting it send you into a black hole.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” 

“Ah, but this spanking will help you remember that.” He prompted with a squeeze and she rose from her chair. “Go get the cane, pet.” 

She retrieved the cane and returned to find him seated in her chair. The atmosphere in the room had changed, and she knew she’d not enjoy this even as it cleansed her. With a pat to his lap, she settled across and braced her hands on the floor. Her anxiety seemed to disappear as her body connected with his. 

He worked her shorts down until her bottom was bare and smoothed a hand from her back down to palm her between her thighs. She lifted her hips just a little to open more to his touch. 

“A hard spanking and then 10 with the cane.” He removed his hand to pat her bottom gently. “I want you to tell me throughout what you’re to remember.” 

Before she could reply, he began. 

She moaned softly before speaking. “I’m not perfect and that’s okay.”

“That’s more than okay, pet, because you’re still very good, right?”

Silly tears pricked again and she had to swallow around the lump in her throat. “Yes, sir.”

He spanked her hard in quick succession, barely letting her catch her breath. The normal pain came fast before she could adjust, jolting her forward and squealing. It wasn’t long before she was crying tears, overwhelmed and needing to release the pent of feelings inside of her. 

“It’s okay.” She repeated over and over as her tears fell. 

It wasn’t long before he stopped and began rubbing at her hot bottom. The skin seemed to throb in time to her heart beat. She felt sensitive and antsy under his touch. 

He helped her to stand, guiding her between his knees.  

“Nearly there. Bend over the desk for me, pet.”

Her tears fell anew as she draped herself over the smooth surface of the desk. There was no preamble this time as he barely let her lay flat before the strikes came. He didn’t draw it out, layering the sharp bite of the cane over her abused bottom one after the other. 

She was a mess when he finished, sobbing into the desk, but feeling relaxed and at ease. Sitting was going to be a chore. 

“It is okay, Kitten. Why is it okay?”

She wiped at her face before answering. “Because even though I messed up, I’m still good at what I do.”

“That’s right, Kitten.” His hand was between her thighs again, cupping her cunt that was alive with need. “You deserve a reward for being a good girl.”

He pushed two fingers inside, his path eased by how wet the spanking had made her. Her body made juicy sounds as he fingered her, the sound only making her hotter. 

“God, Daddy,” she moaned as her hips wiggled and thrust back into his hand. 

She was close, but couldn’t seem to crest the hill like she desperately needed. Her sound of frustration made him chuckle behind her. 

“What do you need, Kitten? Speak up.” 

“Your cock, Daddy.” She rose up on tiptoe, seeking him almost unconsciously. “Please give me your cock.” 

He thrust into her and it was perfect. She was pushing back harder, tasting that shimmering edge as it gathered in her belly. The pain in her bottom as his hips smashed into her served to sharpen the pleasure. Her fingernails dug into the desk with the intensity of it. 

“Ooo, Daddy. Please… I’m going to…”

He wrapped her hair in a tight fist, lifting her so she was flush against him. The way his lips brushed her ear nearly took her over. 

“Come for me, Kitten. Come on Daddy’s cock.”

She froze, her mouth a perfect O as she spasmed around him. It was so good, the whole of the moment wanting to steal her sight and her consciousness. 

He spilled inside her moments later, his loss of control only extending her climax until she did fade out a little. When she returned to full awareness, he had her in his lap, his softening cock still firmly embedded in her body. 

“You’re going to take a nap, Kitten. I want you to relax and I’ll sort this out, understand?” 

She was too spent to argue. “Can we snuggle for a little longer, Daddy?” 

He wrapped her up tight in his arms as his answer. 

It’s been sooo long since I’ve participated in Masturbation Monday. It’s May though, the month of Masturbation so of course I’m on board. I’m off to have session now. 

You go enjoy the other offerings

In times of uncertainty 

Funny times we live in, huh? 

You wonder if it’s a precursor to something or the beginning of a change (good or bad) that’s been long in coming. 

I’m struggling a bit with my weight, writing, starting a new job. I’m unsure if I like where I am or if I need to start something different soon. 

As it is, I have to keep moving I guess.

Hopefully I remain safe in this current political storm. 

Hopefully I find satisfaction in my career again 

Hopefully, I start treating my body better 

Hopefully I make a decision on what I want to be or do. 

Hopefully my desire to write returns

A new tattoo? A new piercing? A new me? Who knows. 


She had this tendency, when she slept deep, to roll to her belly and push her ass into the air. He’s strolled in after a long day at work to find her positioned like an invitation, one he often can’t resist.

This night was particularly hard to ignore after the stress of cases and the tension of a lost battle weighing on him. As he leaned against the door, he admired the gleam of her skin coated in the moonlight streaming through the window. Her shirt was rucked to her neck, revealing the line of her back leading to her round bottom pushed into the air. The barely there string of her panties halved the globes of her ass in the most enticing way. She was open and ready for him even in the oblivion of sleep. He wanted… To part, to take, to sate himself inside her.

To take his frustration out on her beautiful body was wrong. He knew her day with the kids had been as taxing, but the beast made demands and he surrendered to its leading.

He pushed away from the door, shedding his business attire as quietly as possible, promising to neatly fold and hang each article when he subdued the bubbling emotion. Every fiber, including the hard jut of his cock, focused on the need to feel her wrapped around him.

When he made it to her side of the bed, he watched her even breathing for a beat before trailing a hand up her thigh to cup between. It took everything to tamp down the urge just to fuck her fast with zero regard. No, he wanted her wet even before she knew consciousness. He wanted to wake her with the first hard thrust and squelch of her body as his hips met her bottom.

As he barely touched, he savored the feel of her. Her pussy was a warm haven, the thin gusset of her panties hiding nothing as he pressed inwards without penetrating. To spend forever in that welcoming place. He watched her responses carefully, noting when her face turned into the pillow and her thighs pressed together. As his fingers played at her clit, moisture rushed to dampen the fabric. He circled until her hips squirmed and then pushed the cotton aside to dip in. He groaned softly at how wet and hot she’d grown, her body blooming for him.

It was impossible to wait, his cock throbbed at a telling tempo and he needed her. Now.

He climbed in behind her, uncaring if the dip of the bed woke her at this point, and slid her panties just under the curve of her butt. Palming her cheeks, he pulled them apart allowing the moon light his way to heaven. And that first thrust was heaven.

He slid in deep, just a hint of resistance from her body as it opened around him only added to his pleasure. Her arched back and soft moan was the trigger he needed to unburden everything. Nothing but her body would soothe him tonight and he held nothing back, relishing in her cries with each snap of his hips. Wide awake and eager, she pushed back every time until the room echoed with the sound of slapping flesh, until the smell of sex permeated the air around them.

She was his nightcap and he drank deeply of her.

Flash 13

He couldn’t love her anymore then he did in this second and the thought scared the shit out of him.

The way her naked body tucked against his side, her breath brushing his chest while her hair teased his face. The relaxed way she let her arm lay along his flank, her leg thrown over his as though worried he’d drift away while she slept. All pointed to her offering of self.

He’d never leave though. Not when her warmth beckoned him. Not when she placed such trust in him to protect her. To love her.

When his feelings changed, he didn’t know. He never thought he’d find someone who inspired more than lust in him. Love had always made him uncomfortable in ways he couldn’t explain. If he was honest, the thought of having someone depend on him had always freaked him out. The responsibility, the vulnerability, made his teeth ache. He’d learned to rebuff attempts to draw him out and into deep emotions.

She… She’d slipped by his barriers, leaving him defenseless against love.

Hell, his feelings were turning him into a damn romance novel. Even as he scowled at the ceiling at the thought, there was no denying the truth. She’d surprised him by sticking around. He was a moody, surly asshole half the time and uncommunicative the rest. Her initial persistence had unnerved him and he’d repayed her with anger, but she didn’t back down.

He’d found himself talking, no, arguing with her. Things he told no one else tumbled from his lips when he stepped into her presence. Learning the level of her tenacity and intelligence made her linger in his mind. She was so different from the majority of the people in his life he couldn’t ignore her.

It became easy to seek her out, the need almost unconscious. They ran in the same circles so seeing her out and engaging her became a compulsion. What would she wear? What had her day been like? Would her dark eyes sparkle when she saw him?

Social gatherings became solo dates and things progressed until he needed to be near her. Having her close, knowing her, became priority.

But love? Now that one snuck up on him.

She stirred beside him, snuggling into him. His body took the subtle movements as its cue to come to attention. His cock knew exactly what it wanted and his emotions screamed its need to connect with her.

He should let her sleep…

“Wake up, baby.”

She murmured softly in her sleep at the feeling of his fingers tickling along her thigh. Her legs spread to give him access and he groaned when he touched her damp curls. He turned until he had her beneath him, his cock gliding between her labia and over her clit, coaxing more wetness to the surface. Her soft sigh was his undoing.

He was plunging into the warmth of her body with the next thrust. Looking down at her beautiful face, he watched  her eyes flicker open. The soft adoration in her gaze and sleepy smile lit his insides. She was right there with him and bright emotion constricted his chest. The remnants of sleep giving the clearest view of the depth of her emotions. It was glorious and frightening.

He saw the intensity of everything he felt mirrored back and it was beautiful beyond words.

Flash 12

1042 words

“Hands by your side. Don’t hide from me.”

A flash of irritation hits me at his words. Hide from him? He made it sound like I was keeping secrets instead of covering up the rolls. Damn hard anyway since there are so many.

It’s impossible to control the displeasure shifting my features and like the overly intuitive man he is, my inner thoughts are found out.

“Stop.” I freeze at his sharp command. “If you continue along that particular train of thought, you’ll earn that gorgeous ass you hate a spanking.”

I’d normally be on board, but the hard set to his features told me I wouldn’t enjoy one second of it. I shift on my feet, trying to halt the thoughts tumbling through my head. This level of vulnerability almost hurt. Not because of my nudity. No, being naked has never bothered me even with my every changing amount of fat. It was the way he looked at me and saw to my soul that made me want to panic.

It didn’t help that he was as fit and gorgeous as always, and fully clothed to boot.

“Turn around and show me that ass love so much.”

I debate refusing. The tiger strips on my ass would be on display and I’m not sure I can handle scrutiny. He softens for a moment as he watches me struggle. A big hand circles my throat, his grip unthreatening but firm. He tips my chin up and commands my gaze for several beats. Just the way he looks at me… I swallow hard at the emotion, love and deep desire, in his dark eyes.

“You’re mine, baby. You’re mine no matter what you look like or think you deserve. I want you, I want you.” His eyes burn and his grip tightens. “This beautiful body with its curves belongs to me. I want to admire how stunning it is, every inch. I’m not asking you to understand, but as mine you’ll do as I ask. Turn around. Show me that ass.”

He releases me and I turn. I feel the command, the desire, in my core. There’s no killing the anxiety when I’m not looking at him though. I fidget as soon as I face away. My body jiggles and I reach behind to hide it, a mistake. Which does nothing to help me when his hand lands on one of my fleshy cheeks with a crack.

“Shit,” I breathe out with a gasp.

That hand is back, this time at the nape of my neck holding me still. “Shit is right, little girl. You’re going to earn yourself a serious spanking if you cover another part of your body up. Though you may get one anyway before I’m through.”

I gulp because that deadly soft tone of his tells me I’m in serious trouble.

“I’m sorry.” I can only whisper. I’m suddenly overwhelmed by my emotions. “I can’t do this.”

His hand tightens on my neck, holding me still. Keeping me from bolting I’m sure. I feel the other trail down my back, over the curve of my ass, and right to my pussy. In spite of how I was feeling, I was so wet for him. It was almost embarrassing to feel how easily his fingers slipped between my labia.

“Your body is on board, but your mind isn’t. Maybe I should spank you hard to shut all that over thinking down.” He teased my clit until I give the uncontrolled moan he seeks.

I close my eyes, finding it hard to concentrate with him playing me so well. “You don’t understand…”

The tap, tap, tap at my clit has me shuddering and widening my stance.

“What’s to understand? You have a problem with your body, I disagree with your assessment of yourself and plan on helping you see things differently.”

Anger fought with lust for a place in the forefront of my mind. It won far too easily.

“Fuck you. You–” My hand flew to my mouth but it was too late to take that back. “I’m sorry…”

His hand stilled for a breath before continuing with renewed vigor. “Oh no, please finish.”

I was in the danger zone. His voice was my warning; low and soft. I considered refusing, but the hand at my nape told me I’d only make things worse.

“You’re perfect. Fit, handsome.” My thoughts pick up steam with my need and I can’t stop them from tumbling out of my mouth now. “You’re a fucking cliché and fit the standard for beautiful. I’m not that. I’m just not.”

I feel defeated, my momentum gone with my confession.

His hands leave my body and I’m too scared to turn around. Then he presses to my back, hot and hard, having shed his clothes faster than I thought possible. I can feel the muscles of his chest and stomach, bare and delicious against my back. His cock nestles between the full cheeks of my ass, eager and seeking. He wraps an arm around my waist and the other, the one that always comforts me, around my neck.

“How I feel about you matters. I want you, don’t you feel that?”

My eyes burn with tears. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I feel like I’m cracking open in front of him. “It’s just hard to change how I see myself.”

“Let me help you.”

I can’t speak, but I let him walk me forward to the bed. I let him bend me so my ass is exactly where he wants it. I open for him when he touches me. I cry out for him when the width of his cock teases and then stretches me wide.

Jeezus how he stretches me. The push of him inside my body speaks volumes. He coaxes me, stoking the fire in me so high I feel like I’ll burst into flames. To have him there, embedded so deep, unravels me.

His hand is a steady force at my throat as he overwhelms me. I need it, need that power to remind me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful to me.” His harsh words in my ear send me flying.

I open myself so I can feel how he sees me.

You’d date me 

I’ve stopped making any real effort in the dating game lately. Few men I encounter are good long term material and I move around too much for most men. 

I also lack patience to navigate the minefield. 

This 23 year old on Fet has been trying to make a move. We’re on opposite coasts, but he seems intelligent and mature enough for a guy his age. I gave him my number so we could chat and feel out a connection. For me, that simply means someone to spank , but I haven’t quite figured out what he’s after. Sex requires a lot on an emotional level and I’m kind of on a self-imposed sabbatical. Well, outside of the one gent I meet up with when we are in the same city (which isn’t often… We’ll come back to him). 

Here I am giving him a chance and he’s showing signs of a demanding clinger. 

I’m working nights again. I’m not interested in sending you sexy photos while I’m on shift, or talking to you for hours and hours, or devoting a ton of attention to you. We’re talking, I’m slow to warm up, even joking about being exclusive with you is a turn off. 

I don’t have patience. 

It all needs to be straight up from the outset. What do you want? Sex or a relationship? I’m not exactly willing to provide either right now, but I’m not a fan of playing around. Don’t say you want one when you’re really after the other. 

That straightforward attitude is part of why I still talk to and occasionally get together with my Boston guy. He said from the beginning he wasn’t looking for a relationship because of where he was. I’m not that girl who falls in love if it’s clear where we stand. He’s one of the few I’ve felt I can have fun with and it not feel messy and uncomfortable. Explore a fantasy or two when we’re together, exchange fun texts when we’re not, and go about our lives without it being complicated. My usual relational evasiveness doesn’t act up and my emotions stay quiet. 

It’s funny how a few years ago when dating was impossible, that’s all I wanted to do. Now, I find myself in a place where I don’t have the mindset for it any longer. Sex is too much of a spiritual and emotional connection for me to play around, but I need the contact. Spanking fills that void, but few people want just that when they meet up with someone. 

All this because Facebook is a sneaky bastard. Mr Argentina mysteriously popped up as a person to friend and it was like seeing a ghost. I felt haunted and hunted by our time together. Happy Sunday to me.

That and a recent conversation with a coworker reminded me how much easier it is to not bother. When I was ready to be in a relationship, it never happened. Now I’m in a place in my life where there’s opportunity but no desire. 

You know what, I’ll take my spanking and you can keep the rest. Thankyouverymuch 

Desperately Seeking Cara

It’s hard to just talk on here.

I do occasionally because I know it offers you an opportunity to connect with me, but I never feel I have anything worth saying. Because my life is so damn boring…

Case in point, I haven’t had a date since November. There are a host of reasons for that. It’s not that I don’t think I’m attractive (sometimes I think it is, but I’m aware enough of myself to know that’s not necessarily true), it’s that I’ve developed almost an aversion to dating.

So I went on a date yesterday, ending my dry spell. Up until he called me (5 minutes before we planned to meet) I’d considered bailing. I realized today that I’m over meeting up with guys, trying to see if we connect, and hoping against hope that THIS one is who can tolerate me enough to spend time together on a regular basis.

That shit gets old.

I’m at the age where I’m stable enough to get married, but I find I no longer want to go there. The thought freaks me out anymore in all honesty. I don’t feel I’m equipped to wade the waters of dating even for the reward of sex or for the possibility of meeting someone who could get past my reticence when it comes to relationships. There doesn’t seem to be a guy in my vicinity capable of it frankly.

Is there merit to remaining single? Definitely less complicated. I’ll figure the sex thing out in time.

Another funny thing is I still battle shame in my life. A coworker asked what I was reading and when I off handedly said smut she said she was disappointed in me. Shame immediately slammed me and it upset me that I was bothered by what said to me.

I have too many emotions simmering inside of me. Like a bomb about to explode all over anyone. Really, I’d rather spare a significant other that so I don’t have to explain where it comes from.

I’m doing my potential significant other a favor. I’m thoughtful like that.

If I Say I Do

Brad watched his friends cluster around Pat, the man blushing a little as they ribbed him. Another around of beers appeared supplied by the waitress. The way the guys all followed the sway of her hips made Brad chuckle. Not that he could blame them, the skirt she wore barely covered her bottom which jiggled in the most enticing way when she moved. You’d have to be dead to ignore that.

Rich, the admitted bachelor of the group and the only one without a significant other of some kind, clapped Pat on the back. “This is it, man. You’re trading in the good life for a wife and some kids. God help you.”

“Your idea of the good life is a different pussy every night and not remembering your own name.” another friend shot at him, which roused laughter from the whole group.

“Yeah, so? I’m damn happy with different pussy every night. I’m guaranteed a hot girl while you’re stuck with the same tired old pussy day in and day out.” Rich didn’t even seem fazed by the fact that he was a lech.

Pat elbowed Rich in the side. “I dare you to tell Cynthia she’s a tired old pussy. I’d guarantee she knee you in the balls.”

Cynthia was a beauty in every sense of the word, from her crystal clear blue eyes down to her mile long legs. She was also an Amazon who could break the balls of any man who treated her as less than the intelligent woman she presented. The fact that Pat managed to land the raven haired lawyer spoke volumes about his ability.

Rich held his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying I don’t understand why you’d want to commit yourself to one woman like that. I mean, this shit is forever. In spite of how easy it is to get a divorce, you’re still tying yourself to her for a certain amount of time. That’s some scary ass shit right there.”

“Come on. It isn’t even that bad or people wouldn’t do it and stay together for fifty years.” Pat met Brad’s eyes across table. “Tell him, Brad.”

As the only married person in the group who had managed to sustain said marriage for fifteen years, Brad should have a sea of good things to say about marriage. He smiled at his friend before taking a swig of his Allagash.

“You’ve stuck by MaryAnne forever, you’ve got to think marriage is worth it.”

Brad leaned back in his chair and eyed his friend. The eagerness in Pat’s face and his total lack of awareness about life pointed to his obvious youth. It almost seemed wrong to take away his innocence, but sometimes it was more important to deliver the truth.

“I’ll tell you what my grandfather told me on my wedding day.” Brad took a long sip before he continued. “He told me not to get married because marriage is hard goddamn work. You know what? I wish I had listened to him.”

Five faces looked at him in startled confusion. Rich was the first to break the stunned silence. “But… I see the way you look at MaryAnne. Anyone with eyes can see you love her.”

He shook his head, hoping he could be clear. “Make no mistake, I love MaryAnne with every breath I take. I love her more now than I did the day I married her, but my grandfather was right.”

Brad drained his beer, needing the drink to fortify him. He thought about his wife and everything he’d learned since they’d been together and prayed he translated that to his friend.

“You’re joining yourself to someone who will know everything about you if you let them. You’ll see each other at your absolute worst; I’m talking bad morning breath, ass-scratching, no makeup, farting worst. That’s not all of it though. This goes deeper than just some words you utter in front of God and church. If you want to make this last, if you’re truly committed to being with this woman you profess to love, you have to work. She won’t be beautiful forever and her body won’t stay the tight perfection you see now. Kids will wreak havoc on her and she’ll change. When she changes, you have to choose to love her still.”

He leaned forward so he could look in Pat’s eyes. “There will be points where other women look fresh, new, and oh so exciting. You’ll want to stray because she’s been too tired or had a headache too many nights in a row. If you truly want this to work, you’ll keep looking at her and tell her she’s the best thing that ever happened to you. Because deep down you know that any woman who gives up her freedom to cling to you is the best damn thing that ever happened to you.”

The noise of the bar faded a bit as he considered his journey with his wife. He loved her so much it hurt, but he knew their love was a hard-fought battle.

“This shit is emotional and real. So real it’s scary. You’ll want to walk away, call it quits, forget the promises you made. But you can’t because if you claim to love her now, you’ll have to keep choosing that love and convince her to choose it too. That gets hard and the easy choice is not talking, not keeping promises, and walking out. If you can’t do those things, if you can’t honestly say you’ll love her with everything you have, than call this shit off. Because being married isn’t worth it if you can’t hang out to the end.”

Drawing in a breath, Brad ran a hand through his hair. “MaryAnne is my everything, but if I’d have known how time would change things I’m not sure I’d have walked down the aisle. So my advice to you on the Eve of your wedding is don’t do it.”

The guys appeared mesmerized and hung suspended until his last word. Pat blinked, obviously not expecting what he said. “I don’t know what to say, man.”

“Say you’re in it for the long haul or get the hell out while you still can.” With that, Brad raised his hand to call for another beer.

Cut and Run

Dear You,

Forget it.

Yes, I said forget it.

Because your life is too damn busy to even have a casual relationship right now. I’ll do us both a favor and let you off the hook.

I was walking to your place and you have no idea what was on my mind, but your text reminded me how little patience I have. My level of readiness after 2 other attempts to get together with you is insanely high, only it’s not going to happen. Not tonight is something I’m a little tired of hearing.

You can cancel once, put me off a second time, but by the third time I don’t give a damn what your excuse is… I’m going to have to let you go.

Bottom line, I refuse to be another thing taking up your time. I’m selfish and needy, I require a certain amount of attention. My goal is to be understanding, but the way I understand this is you need to sort your life out because the moment you say we’ll do this “sometime” that’s my cue. Sometime means never in my book. You don’t have to pretend, I’m smart enough to read between the lines.

I’m disappointed, dejected, upset because I really really liked you and I’m going to have to figure out how to make a connection with someone else.

The worst part is I know you won’t even fight to keep me around. That tells me more than anything else you might say. I’m then glad things didn’t go as far as they could have with us. That I’m suffering from bruised feelings instead of a broken heart.

Good luck to you. You’ll be a fond memory and I’m glad for that. I hope you’ll remember me as fondly.


Ps: you’ve given me cause to reevaluate myself if nothing else. I give up too much and I’m keenly aware of that fact with you.


The day didn’t have the best start (I’ve been bummed all day and I’m at work on top of that). It takes little to bring me down and too much thinking is in effect here.

I’m excellent at talking myself out of something. Clothes, conversations, relationships…

My ardor has cooled. Or maybe my frustrations – the combination of too many things at this moment – is rendering me jaded. Is that the right word?

It’s the uncertainty that does me in, turning a good thing sour. Then I shrug my shoulders, step back, and let things slip away as if they were nothing. I’m not a priority, I’m not important, this is not important, so I question my want of it.

I mean, it’s a passing fancy, right? Nothing much to it so no need to make it a big deal. I’m too complicated, making everything complicated. Clinging to promises and possibilities. But they aren’t real, none of it is real. Nothing “one and only” about it.

As much as I want something, I want reassurance more. Maybe that means I don’t really want the something I’m pining for.

The end result is I can’t figure it out and I’m not going to try. Typical me, only wanted on someone else’s terms. Well, that’s how I interpret things anyway.

No matter how good I feel, my rational mind says back off. Maybe I need to listen to my mind for once.