I’ve Been Dead All Day // 0:33 – 0:39
“Now the bullshit is adding up and I’ve had enough of it. The crash should be incredible to see.” – Bayside
————————💜————————
When I sit down to write on the little piece of internet I’ve carved out here, I always tell myself even if it hurts your ego, just tell the damn story & be as honest as you can. Because sometimes being a flesh suit powered by a malfunctioning blob of fat and electricity, especially one with such a deep seated need to be heard clearly & understood, is fuckin’ hard. Every person on this planet who’s actually lived life can probably relate to some part of that statement.
I hope this entry comes as a testament to how much of myself I’m willing to throw on the metaphorical fire to tell the whole story, as I lived it & as sincerely as I can recall.
X & I did something incredibly dumb when we started out doing this & since one of the things I’m trying to accomplish by writing all this out is the break down stigmas (even some in my own head) around sex & relationship, I gotta be honest with the second half of this encounter. We had a bit of an honor system going for a bit as far as condom use goes & that includes CR. X & I both got (and still get) tested regularly & we honestly figured I’d notice something visibly before it went anywhere near the inside of me. And we got lucky for awhile. But luck is a fickle bitch & clearly the universe still had things to teach me in regards to how I handled my interactions with mankind.
Now, I can’t say for sure how gave who what, but I got tested after a month of fuckin’ CR (with an all negative test to show from the month before) and ended up getting my first STI. Gonorrhea to be exact. The Clap. Not-so-fun fact: it got that neat little nickname because before medicine could properly catch up to the speed of which humans fuck, one of the treatments men would try to alleviate the symptoms was “slapping their penis against a board or clapping it between two hands to force out infected discharge“.
I can tell you right now, after reading that sentence I have never been more grateful for the invention of modern antibiotics.
The experience sucked. It sucked to have it, it sucked to find out, it sucked to be on the antibiotics to fix it (which I found out I was insanely allergic to way too late), it sucked to feel ashamed & it sucked to tell my past/present sexual partners what was up. Hell, I’m not gonna lie, it sucks to write about it now, but it’s what happened so out of my brain and onto the internet it goes. That silly, gnawing shame to have dealt with what countless humans before me who made equally bad decisions is part of why this entry took so long to be pulled out of my brain. But it was fixable. Thank fuck. And it taught me a very important lesson: just because I try to hold my sexual health to the highest standard I can, doesn’t mean everyone else does either. And that even if I am one lucky bastard, luck is finite. You start to abuse it & get cocky, the universe will throw a haymaker that knocks you on your ass. She’s all about balance that way, ha.
Now barring that I can’t account for where X and his dick are at all times, I did trust him a bit more than some random dude who can’t even keep it up for the entirety he’s been fucking me & more importantly seems to gleefully lie to most of the important people in his life.
I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt & took responsibility for it myself despite being fairly sure I wasn’t the source. Out of the two of us, it would probably be a mighty tight competition for who the bigger slut was, but I swallowed my pride, informed him & apologized for it.
We chatted idly for a few days after that, but my self preservation quickly overrode my need to be this guy’s buddy. I quietly blocked him everywhere I could & tried to forget I was ever stupid enough to like and want to bone such a self absorbed, cognitively dissonant dude. What I’m willing to overlook for the sake of a fat cock astounds even me sometimes…
I figured that was that, lesson learned. Another possibly (probably) toxic mother fucker is sent to the void.
Ever the forced optimist, I thought to myself “someday I could make the best out of a bad situation & use this as a cautionary tale. An example of how even when I didn’t get lucky, I really did & maybe some day someone will read it and think twice before fucking around and finding out. If you can’t be a good example, be a horrible warning, right?“
Skip forward a several months, I wake and roll over to see my phone’s Do Not Disturb caught the world’s weakest 3 am “hey wyd?” text. Confused as hell I tried to piece together who the fuck would have the audacity because it certainly wasn’t anyone I was talking/fucking with at the time. I quickly realized it was GVCR trying to hit me up & I couldn’t help but laugh about it. “Shit.” I thought, “Why didn’t I also block his actual phone number too, what the hell? You’re slacking Fonda.” I took a screenshot, showed it to X & we had a giggle at it for a bit, reminiscing on how fuckin’ lame the whole situation was in hindsight before I hit the block button. With that, Great Value Brand Charlie Runkle was lost to the mass grave of dicks I store right here for you lovely perverts to be entertained by.
Leave a Reply