theeconomist

Whoops. There was a lady, R, between those last two. She and I slept together (official style) only once. It was in the pitchblack dark of my old house that i shared with another guy for all of college. She'd already--well, let's just be ridiculously honest, old non-existent friends,---gone down on me in a parking lot prior to a movie, jerked me off during the movie, and gone down on me on the way home from the movie.

So we slept together, and neither of us ever saw reason to do it again--although she did go down on me again, multiple times throughout the remainder of my college career--once against a candy machine, once in a construction site, and various other locales.

She's a brilliant writer--lives in New York now, same as me. We haven't spoken much in the last few years--both of us are old enough to not want to do the whole fuck-buddy friend thing, but i think the world of her. One of the few former sex partners that doesn't think i'm a total shit. That's gotta be worth something.

I'm starting to want to keep up these blogs again, if for no other reason than a self-obsessed desire for completion--it's odd to sit here at four am after a night of dastardly business and write about stuff from 5 years ago and have it feel so foreign, so archaic.

Either way, this may not be helping me, but it's not hurting either, and it is somewhat cathartic.