Bad News Bears

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of a mental state that might make some people uncomfortable.

FIRST of all, hello! I haven't written in a little while and I'm happy you guys have stuck around. I'll try to be more constant in my writing, but sometimes life gets in the way. So again, thank you guys for chillin' in the wings!

Second of all, this post - although still standing true by itself - is a little bit of an explanation of some of the mental/physical barriers that have held me back from my creative self.

In my life, if I've spoken with you about some of the people I sleep with, you've probably heard me say that someone may be a  "bad news bears boy" or something similar. I know that it's silly, but it actually comes from a deeper place, I think. This post is going to be more mental health than anything, even though it stems from a sexual place.

There was a boy I was sleeping with. I'll leave his name out, obviously, even though some of you may know the name of who I'm talking about. For a long time, we were pseudo-falling in and out of love with one another. He and I made some awful decisions, and I regret every second of it. But here's the thing: from time to time, we still sleep with one another. Why do we do that? Why the hell are we doing this to ourselves?

Let me explain. Get ready for this.

So, long story short, we ended up having a conversation about where we were in life, what we were both looking for, the dishonesty on his part, the emotional ROLLERCOASTER on mine... You name it, we've talked about it. And we decided that we were too horny and our sex was too good to give up. After that, we've had more issues about his dishonesty, but my emotions actually backed off a little and I was (and am) able to have sex with him without any attachment. Which is what I'd prefer for situations like this. If I'm going to sleep with people freely, I don't want any strings. It's bad for my brain, and it's not fair to anyone.

Then, his dishonesty stopped. He started telling me things. Not everything, but to be honest I couldn't give less of a fuck. Not for me to know, not for me to care about. No worries. And it's actually fine.

Not "fine" in the sense of "it's not at all fine but I'm saying it to end the conversations surrounding it". "Fine" as in "this is actually cool, no worries, no big deal, over, done". It's actually fine. Or rather, it was for a while. But even now, with everything going on, it's still better than it was.

Sometimes I still think about how shitty our relationship was. And is. And sometimes after having sex with him, I feel disgusting. Like I'm the worst person in the entire world for even considering still sleeping with someone like him. I think about it during sex with him, too. And even though he always respects my wishes to stop, it makes me feel even worse that my almost-PTSD with him is ruining what could potentially be a great time.

Sexually, I don't think I've ever been with someone more compatible. I've had amazing sex. I've had sex that I think about and even after how long still makes my mouth water. I've had sex with people of all walks of life. I've been hurt by people, treated well by people, all of that. But something about sex with him really keeps me coming back. (Cue Chingy feat. Tyrese "Pullin' Me Back" please. If you don't know the song, listen. Doesn't really apply, but it's a lit throwback. You're welcome.)

And he's let me explore my kink side, for sure. We've explored things as mellow as just regular domination, to as severe as knife play. The physical trust I have is unmatched, truly. He's one of the only people I've ever felt comfortable switching for and showing my domme side. And because of how physically in sync we are, it's even harder to let go.

Here's how I see it. If we're being honest, and I've tried to be nothing but, I'm way too much of a sexually-driven creature to give up on sex like that. And every time I go to make that choice - whether or not to sleep with him - I run questions by him. I need to make sure he's not cheating on anyone by sleeping with me, that's the biggest one. And if/when he answers them all and he's not being an asshole, then it's perfectly fine. We hang, we smoke, we fuck, we sleep (sometimes), and then we go about our lives. But it's our past interactions that still hover behind each orgasm. And it's something I'm actually choosing to dismiss most of the time.

At the end of the day, what he did was shitty. Who I was, was shitty. But we've both come miles above that. We've been vocal and talked, we've discussed maybe trying to date again, and we've adamantly and unanimously decided that it was a bad fucking idea. That's why I think I can do it. There's no goal other than to have a good night with one another every now and again. And watching him grow as a human as we continue to sleep together is so refreshing. I'm not taking credit for the growth, that's all him. I can only take credit for mine. But I'm happy that the sad feelings are now in the past. It's only the past that makes me uncomfortable. And I hope that the future stays positive.

Whether we continue to do what we're doing, or whether we dead one another, or whether we fall off, every choice that was made has created the people we are today. I quite like myself right now, for the most part. I'm grateful for my experiences. I wouldn't be me without them.

People like him are one of the reasons I haven't been myself. Rather, why I'm trying to find myself. I'll sacrifice a blog post if it means I can focus on myself for a little while. Hopefully my bad news bears boy won't impede my growth anymore. I'm working on myself. I'll get there.