someone asked me today why i was still yadda yaddaing on about mr hardman. their take was, if i do what i do and can obviously (pfft) fuck anyone i want why don’t i just move right along on and be done with it.
see. here’s the thing.
being a sex writer doesn’t make you immune to falling in love with someone and wanting a warm, lovely space where you’re understood and where you can explore.
like men, sex writers are human too.
oddly, i’m a lot more cautious than people expect me to be. i don’t fuck randomly and can be all soft centre at the best (and worst) of times.
it might go against ‘the brand’ (nod to seth, capetowngirl and nonthle), but there you go.
i usually take AGES to fall in love with someone. with mr hardman it was practically instantaneous.
anyway.
three times this fucking man asked me to be in a monogamous, exclusive relationship, and three times he ended up treating my decision to comply like it is was nothing more than an annoyance. worse, an obligation.
wtf. i feel cheated and lied to. so along with being sad, i feel like a fucking idiot when i miss him. but it’s my blog and i’ll blog what i want to.
so stop fucking mailing me about getting over it.
