Confessions

Life is all about choices: Stay here and wither away waiting for you or move on. I have to move on. I love and I always will…you are an amazing man and I wish more than anything circumstances were different. I’m sorry but I CAN NOT come back this time. I just can’t. It’s a beautiful day outside and I’m going to enjoy it.

I told my ex he was belligerent, he didn’t know what it meant. LOL

My past is coming back to haunt me… You are the only one i want to remember but he keeps finding out he knows people ive been with besides you and he freaks out because he knows them… Oh and since he decided to bust open my past, i told him about you. He does know about you and how we met again and became friends during my discovery

I’m jaded and belligerent.
I shouldn’t be surprised that you didn’t want me.

My only true confession is the confession of a question I have asked myself for so long. Why is it that no one is attracted to me? Why is it that me, out of all people, has the hardest time making friends? I’m being completely honest when I say this, but I’m pretty. I’m funny. A little off sometimes, but who isn’t. I really don’t understand why I can’t attract any men whatsoever, except of course those that already know me. Why is it that other girls I know are ridiculously slutty, not that attractive, and downright mean at times, can get boyfriends when I can’t. Considering I’ve never had a boyfriend in my entire life, and I’m now in college. All of this is bullshit. The one thing I ever wanted in college was to find someone to make me feel special. To want to be around me all the time, to share things with. I never cared about the partying, or the freedom, because I’ve always had both of those things. The one thing that I want I can’t have, and other people can have boyfriends, partying, freedom, success. In the end, I would really just love an answer to all of the questions I’ve asked. Why can’t I find someone who likes me for me? It’s not asking a whole lot. I’m somewhat picky about the guys I’m attracted to, but not so picky that I shouldn’t be able to find anyone at all. One of the most annoying things about this whole situation is that I think I have too much confidence in myself. Maybe I think I’m too pretty, too funny, too interesting, too nice, and that maybe I think I’m too good for anything. But then I think again and this isn’t true. I have a lot of confidence, but not so much that it would be overbearing to anyone. Every single one of my friends is attractive and funny, but none of them believe these qualities in themselves. We’re all just victims of our own souls. There’s a guy in my class, who is absolutely beautiful. Everything that I know about him (unfortunately from facebook creeping, and just seeing him in class) makes me more attracted to him. He’s interesting in a lot of the same things, doesn’t seem like a scumbag, and he’s older. I love older guys, mostly because all of the guys around my own age are only interested in hooking up, and not actual relationships. Anyways, he is also physically attractive. I’m not shallow, and personality/sense of humor is one of the main things I look for in guys. But physical attractiveness is a plus. He is honestly perfect and I have no idea how to attract his attention, even though I want to so badly. I wish I knew what to do because both of us together would be amazing.

Right now, I really just want to have sex with someone hot, sexy and knows how to do me good! I really want it. I have been wanting it for a while – If you find someone, send them my way.

Straight and lesbian times included, I’ve had sex with 28 people. Ten of those were one night stands.

This one goes out to anyone who ever failed at anything…

I was always the kid who did good at many things. I always did good in school. Middle school I achieved straight A’s. I was given an award by the President himself (who at the time was George Bush) for Academic Excellence.

In high school, even though I didn’t get straight A’s, I still performed really well. I won many awards, most of them for Principal’s Recognition and Top of the Trade and Most Professional.

College was hard, but I tried and still made it through. I was still proud of myself.

My confession is I tried to become a police officer lately and failed. I smoked weed within a 1 year time frame of applying. I just experimented. I only did it about 4 times. I never thought experimenting would hurt me, but it did.

I feel somewhat of a loser…

And even though I feel like a failure, deep inside I feel a sense of honesty with myself and forgiveness for I admitted to my mistake not only on here but on the Police Exam…

They encourage you to be honest because honesty is what matters most. You have integrity if you are honest, and they are looking for people with integrity. They tell you if you are honest you will most likely get through unlike others who lied.

At first I was somewhat sad and a little bit mad when they called me and told me they can’t process me any further because of my marijuana use. I thought to myself “I was honest. Why would I not be able to be processed further? I even stayed away from it for a period of time.” They say it doesn’t mean I can’t apply again. I just have to wait a year.

I feel… Indifferent right now…

But I know I can’t give up. And I most likely won’t give up.

I have to just do other things that matter for the time being and occupy myself and prove to them that I can break that one year time frame.

I wanted this job so bad because I wanted to move out of my parents house… I’m 22 now… I have a girlfriend. I needed to do something with myself. =/ And needed to prove to those around me that I could succeed and hold me own.

I have to focus on making myself a better person mentally and physically and helping those around me succeed as well…

I want to help my girlfriend out. She smokes marijuana more than I ever have… She smoked it a ton in her life. I want to help her stop so she can have a good future. I want her to stop because I love her and care about her. I want her to learn from me that it can hurt people… After all… It hurt me be putting my career on hold.

I’m going to try quite a few things to get myself back on track:

1. I always loved fitness, so I’m going to have to really take working out serious… Even though I passed the physical agility test, I could have done better. I did better than a lot of people, but I want to really stand out.

2. Be honest with myself and others more. The psychological exam taught me to behave this way on the police exam. I felt good about being honest for once in my life. Not lying to myself about who I really was felt good.

3. I’m going to listen to my girlfriends ideas and encourage her to tell me things more often so that I can improve myself as a person. She is right about so many things. We were talking about me gaining weight for example if I want to be a bodybuilder. And I always come up with an excuse as to why I don’t eat more; things cost too much, or I’m not hungry, or tired.

4. I want to be a better person. I want people to look at me and respect me. I want people to say “he’s the man. I wish I could be like him.”

5. I want to be more independent from my parents. I still have to find a way to move out until I can get a better job.

6. I want to encourage my girlfriend to be a better person. She really needs someone like me to show her good. Too many people gave up on her in her life. I don’t want her to be alone and regretful.

But for now. I gotta go.

From leosc again, this is kindof perverted but i wanted to get off my chest. when i was younger, my tip of you know what was very insensitive and i thought it was going to fall off and did some weird things to it because of that. and i never told anyone before, feels good lol 🙁

I just looked at your pics on fb, thinking how long it’s been since I have seen you. It’s been a long time and I hardly remember what you sound like. Life is so weird.

I’m a piece of shit. My boyfriend jokes around that I’m cheating on him and the thing is I actually am…

I hate your kids. I buy my kid a computer, your kid is on it. I buy my son a video game, your kid is playing it. My son gets a package in the mail, your kid is opening it. My son makes himself something to eat, your kid is eating it. What the f*ck is it with your kids? Your daughter is an absolute PIG. Why haven’t you taught these kids anything? The thing is, they don’t know anything because YOU don’t know anything and they’ve learned ‘nothing’ by watching YOU. I don’t want to raise YOU or your kids. I want to move out. I want my own home. I want my own CLEAN home where people have respect for their belongings. You AND your kids are just pigs all the way around. You have gotten better maybe- but your kids…? Oh my GAWD. I don’t know if there’s any help for them. They are going to be a POX on society- the type that ruin everything for everyone because they are mindless PIG-SLOBS. That’s what’s saddest of all.

What the fuck did I do to you, you dumb shit. I don’t deserve what you’re doing to me. But you know I’ll love you anyways. Douche bag.

A Poem-ish Letter to my “Fuck Buddy”

We’ve been attracted to each other
for a long time—minds and bodies.
The twenty-nine years between our
birthdates makes little difference.
We flirted, fantasized for a few months.

I know that I’ve been interested in you
much longer than you in me. Pretty much
since you started working here.

I never thought it would happen.

I hoped it would.

We spend hours together.
Collaborating, commiserating.
Working on separate projects in the same room.
We have side conversations via
chat where we type what we can’t say
out loud in the office we share with
two others.

Your wife went out of town
November 30. We were together
December 1.

Nervous and excited all day,
being with you went beyond
my expectations. I didn’t know it
was possible to even be with someone
to that degree. You’re my #7, and I never knew.

Beyond rockets and fireworks, this
was like solving an infinity-piece
jigsaw puzzle and latching the last
two pieces, completing the picture.

One of those perfect times in life
that’s beautiful, magic, and cannot
be replicated in exactly the same way.

We had a hot twenty-four hours. Texted
when I left, chatted when I got home.
Back at your house at six. Sex, shower,
report to work. I never wanted to leave
your bed that day. I wanted to keep
my head on your chest and hand on your dick.

Back at your house again at 7:30. Sex,
hot tub.

Full stop.

You wanted to stop. Couldn’t
do “this” to your wife, shouldn’t be a
hypocrite as a religious man, didn’t
want to change your situation, wouldn’t
want to lose our friendship.

I didn’t agree, but what was I going to do?
Force you to fuck me?
I told you that, and also that I would respect
the decision.

Opted to walk v. being driven to my car, and
left poised, no tears, no scene. I asked for
one last kiss, which you willingly gave. I felt
your eyes on me as I walked away, and made it
two houses down before crying. You know
how I hate crying. I had been hit by a train,
but our experience was well worth the pain.

You texted me to have a good time with my
mom—I was going to see her for the weekend.
At first, I was pissed—why would you write me
a regular message like that immediately after?

Then, I thought, ‘He just wants to make sure we’re
still friends,’ so we exchanged this:

‘Thanks. I want you to know that I enjoyed every second with you. I feel very rug-pulled-out but will be okay. I treasure having you as a great friend in my life and look forward to continuing to be the same kind of friend to you as ever. You are a wonderful man. No regrets.’

‘My feelings exactly…thank you for understanding. That is a great friend. You are that friend.’

The next morning on the road, I felt
like I was still being dragged by the
train. You texted me to drive safely.

Over the weekend, I moved from
trainwreck victim to head-to-toe bandaged
person in the ICU. We kept texting and chatting
at night, flirting, which was confusing.

‘Either we’re doing this or we’re not,’ I thought
but didn’t say.
‘Don’t give me hope if there isn’t any.’

That weekend, I questioned whether
it was just an amazing physical connection
going on or more. Over the course of almost
two years of a friendship that became closer every day,
had I or we fallen in love accidentally?

When I felt as bad as I did, I kept telling myself
it was just the abruptness
and disappointment of its ending.

I wanted to skip work on Monday.
I wanted to get there early to see you.
I wanted to find a reason to never
be sitting at my desk at any point.
Meetings, meetings, right?

Except you would’ve been in the same ones
if we were having any. Damn.

Seeing you wasn’t bad—I enjoy your company
too much to be pained by it. You look good.
Tall, strong, sexy. Sky-blue eyes that see me
a little too clearly sometimes. Long ponytail
that I want to shake loose most of the time.

Your hair is beautiful. Your body is firm.
We started to get flirty on messenger, but
I got “shot down” over something and said
to myself, ‘Yep, that’s it, I guess.’ Later, I was
frustrated over something, and commented
on needing a drink, and you offered to take me
out for one after an event we had to attend.

During the event, we kept glancing at each other.
I was very aware of your being in the room.
Couldn’t wait to be alone with you again, even
if it would hurt like lemon juice soaking the
virtual bandages that still covered me.

We had a great time together—excellent
conversation and drinks. If it had been a date, it
would’ve been one to call home about. You thanked
me for being okay with everything toward the beginning
of the night (It was a miracle—I was cured by spending
the evening with you. Not a scratch on me anymore).

By the end, we were holding hands
and you said, ‘I would like to make love to you again.’

Of course, I said I would, too.

Of course, making ‘love’ is just an expression.

We’ve been together several times since.
Twice a week usually.
I always have a good time with you.

You played your guitar and sang for me one day before sex
and relaxing together. We acted out a
fantasy that you had previously written as a short story.

I love giving you blow jobs. You’re the only man I’ve ever
swallowed with. I accept you—every part of you. I want you
to be exactly who you are. Not that you’re perfect—you’re not.
I’m glad you’re not.

You’ve mentioned a couple times
that your wife doesn’t like how you dress, even treats you
differently based on appearance. It offends me that she
does that. I want her to treasure what she has.

I have learned the definition of ‘cherish’ by being friends and now
lovers with you. I straight-out enjoy the pleasure of your company.
I don’t care if we’re in the same room not interacting. You
being in the room makes it worth being there, too.

You know that my marriage sucks.

It’s going to be over. Maybe not next month, maybe not
in five months, but it’s going to end at some point.
In a way, it’s already over. Not because of you,
which you also know.

What makes me sad is I know that someday,
maybe soon, maybe not,
you’re going to repeat what you said on
December 2. And whatever we have,
love, sex, connection, passion, excitement, all mixed together
with our friendship, is going to have to change again.

I don’t want you to leave your wife or do anything that you
don’t want to do. I don’t expect you to cast aside your whole
life to be with some girl. I just want to
keep being with you when possible. I want to find the perfect
woman for a threesome (fantasy of yours). I want you to fuck
me on a table, outside in the grass, on a beach—really, anywhere.
Just keep fucking me because you are my fantasy.

I don’t want to lose this amazing thing
we have, but I know we will, and that you will have a
completely sound reason for ending it. We call each other
‘Fuck Buddy,’ and I think that’s best—words make a difference.
If we said ‘lover,’ it would probably already be done.
Call me ‘bitch,’ ‘slut,’ ‘whore,’ please, if it will extend our time.

You introduced me to “The Bridges of Madison County,”
And there’s a line about Robert and Francesca having
somehow created a force outside themselves, their own ‘us.’
I feel like there is an ‘us’ between us, but we are keeping it
locked up for our own good.

If you’re reading this, it’s because it’s over. Do four things for me:

1. Have no regrets. Remember what I said.

2. Play “Cowgirl in the Sand” and think of me one time.

3. Cover for me. I’m using a sick day.

4. Continue to be my friend. I can’t lose you in that way, too.

I’m sorry S, for stealing R from you. I don’t know you very well but you seem ok. When you were drunk once we had a conversation about shoes and books, that was cool. But when R asked me out and we sort of fell for each other really hard, I had no idea you’d been sleeping with each other about a few weeks earlier. You must have really liked him to react like you did. I barely knew him, how was I supposed to know? I never meant to hurt you and I understand how you must feel, hating me like you do. I’ve been through it, I think most girls have.
I think what makes it worse are my huge boobs. I understand how I can seem like the perfect scapegoat, the big boobed bimbo who has no brains (sorry to prove you wrong) and he just wants to fuck.
But I promise you we’re in love. True, deep, crazy, compassionate, fiery love.
And if to have that I would have to do it all over again and in the process hurt you, I would. I am sorry… but he’s just worth that much to me.

I wish that I could just forget about my ex completely. I’ve burned everything he gave me, deleted him from my phone, facebook, etc, and yet, I still have to deal with the pain of remembering. If there were a way to completely erase him from my mind for good, I would do it, no matter what the risks.

Cory, please stop trying to call me. It isn’t going to happen between us. EVER. You’re way too pushy and you’re not physically attractive at all. Love, me.

P.S. Your arms look like Chewbacca.

My boyfriend always acts like a douche to me when he’s around other guys, especially his brother. I used to think ‘who cares because he is sensitive with me’ but now to tell the truth, I’m a bit sick of it and think it’s childish. If you can’t stand up for your woman and you tease her then you’re not an adult, you’re a bloody child.

Dear woman who he’s with now.

He’s a drunk loser who will hurt you emotionally. He will trap you in your house that you pay for and take your money and go to the bar, leaving you alone. I wish this on no one, I hope you see this and think it might be me. I’m sure he’s told you his pathetic side to the story, remember it was years and there are two sides to every story. Don’t believe anything he says, he’s a conn artist.

Sincerely,

someone who doesn’t want to see anyone else hurt like I was.

When i was a kid, 13yo me and my brother had sexual arousal and did nasty things until mom found out… This made me feel bad but now im relieved 🙂