I am struggling tonight.
I think I may have briefly spoke of a ‘meet up’ or two in a previous post and that is partly what is bringing me to where I am tonight.
I desperately want to be that special someone to someone.
I want someone to want and love me with the ferocity that I had for Moon.
I just don’t know if I believe in that anymore.
How do you believe in something that you have already given your all too and it has laughed while slapping you in your face?
Am I capable of loving someone again?
I don’t think I am right now. I am so busy pushing anyone away and keeping everyone at arms length it’s impossible to be anything at all.
If this were any other time in my life the amount of male interest I have currently would keep me more than interested and occupied.
But it doesn’t.
I don’t answer phone calls when it rings.
I rarely respond to text right away.
I currently have 3 guys showing some sort of signs of interest, albeit on completely different levels but attention and interest none the less.
And I don’t really care.
I’m not feeling anything towards any of them. Not to mention the multiple people that I ‘interacted’ with on some level since Moon left. I mean I could start a few posts just on said interactions, the online dating world is a blog in it’s fucking self.
There is a certain someone who has been a constant since before Moon even truly left. He’s been a constant since before Moon really but he’s always been quietly, sometimes not so quietly, in the background. We have had a few deeply connecting moments. He even threw out the L word to me, several times and since, but I have kept him at such a distance that the possibility of him and I becoming anything doesn’t seem real.
I mean how can I expect someone to take me seriously and as anything more than a fucking 2 am booty call if I don’t give them anything more of myself than that?
HOw can I expect someone to love me if all I am giving them of myself is my vagina and some stimulating conversation? I mean.. really?! Sure I laugh with them. I throw out a few one liners and a couple of jokes. We talk about life and our days. I have cried with a few of them, shared some deep dark secrets with some, I’ve fucked more than I’d like to admit here or anywhere, I let one of them spank me until I came (I didn’t think it was possible either but trust me it happened), I’ve laid hours in the biggest and sexiest arms I could ever imagine, I’ve experienced kinky fuckery like I never thought possible… but during any and all of that I never felt anything in my soul.
Everything felt superficial or fake, like it wasn’t really ME but just some shell of what I used to be. I still look the same on the outside, well minus quite a few pounds (probably the only benefit of a lost love), but on the inside it’s hollow. Empty. There’s no me left inside.
I haven’t been ME since Moon has been gone. He took a piece of me with him. And I’m pretty sure it was the piece of me that held all the love that I had for life. I think it held all the light I had for anything.
I trusted him with everything and every part of me.
So I gave myself completely.
But he never gave me any of myself back when he left.
He kept all the best parts of me when he left.
And he doesn’t even know or care.
He’s living life and loving with his everything and his all.
And I’m stuck here giving out the only parts of me that I have left to people who don’t want to make me more than a 2 am call.
And in the sickest way possible… I am kinda okay with that.
Fuck feeling anything more than skin deep anyways.