Tension and Flow

My spine feels tied in knots. It's more of an "energy" based tension than a physical one. It doesn't hurt... I just feel stuck. It's a rather unsettling feeling and at the same time I know it comes from that feeling of "something isn't right."

I could go back to saying it's tied to myself life. My period started a few days early this month after having sex with the mouse... unsatisfying, "ok have to get myself off if I want to orgasm" sex... meek, mild-mannered, "he's only now moving because he wants to hump, and to hurry up and finish" sex. Nonexistent passion again... and that annoys me. It just about sickens.

Again, remembering a bit how he's been with others. Enthusiasm and it honestly feels like he's just throwing a bone... holding back... pulling away...

It's not about orgasm, or lack of... it's about effort. I could get myself off a thousand times but it seems he doesn't even try... stopped wanting to try... gave up on trying...

Thinking of period sex... it's a rare thing. He's put off a bit by blood but it's not as if he hasn't done it before. It's not as if we haven't had sex while I'm menstruating before. It's not as if he can't wash up or shower afterwards.

And I ramble... rant... and feel a meltdown coming...

I need to breathe. That's what I need to remember to do... breathe.

I didn't stand for not feeling wanted with ANA, my former. I made it clear I didn't want that distance and ended it. Funny... before the mouse and I started dating we talked about this... about not feeling wanted or desired.

I don't think I started pulling away or retreating until he started being with other people. I don't think he started being this way until I started to pull away. There's a part of me that wants to scream "Thanks for fucking it up." but I know it's not that... he's being true to himself... and I know that I still flirt away even though ... even though...

Part of me wants to say "if only you weren't so picky... ", but picky isn't a bad thing. Being selective isn't a bad thing. If only I was better at picking...

Writing for myself... I wonder if it was ever a good idea to have this blog public... I still doubt there are people out there reading... and if they are, they certainly aren't saying so. If they are, they're just sucking in my words to pass their time... their day... their... whatever it is.

I don't want to turn this inward. That rawness put to word is like a negative affirmation. But, I still want to scream.

Breathe... I need to breathe...

Mr L. will be flying in at the end of this week. I think it's Friday. For all his words, I don't really believe anything will happen. I don't believe there will be a lunch, or dinner date. I don't believe there will be cuddling or more. Then again, I don't think he really WANTS more... or from me a more. (I've said before that a prerequisite for sex with me is getting testing done or at least verified status. I know the "condoms every time" script...) I mentioned this to him... he never made the time.

I've said before that people who can't make the time to get themselves checked up aren't worth mine. I don't want more scares. I don't want to take the risk. I don't want someone else’s lax outlook to end up hurting me.

I'm tired of people who don't care. I'm tired of being attracted to people who don't care.

I'm tired of putting forth the effort and energy for people who won't do the same for me.

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