4 years
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I love you and I really like the short times we talk, but I’ve accepted you don’t want to be around me. It’s why this is irony and makes me laugh. She made me laugh, asking me why you keep coming back to me like ‘what is wrong with you?’ with all the things I put you through. You must be amused with me. I like you too. I’m never going to be a feisty feminist bully of a woman who demands to be with you, a ‘take charge’ mean woman stepping over all other women. It’s not my way and I don’t want to see you as a pushover either. I want to keep imagining you can take charge even though you never do. That’s irony too, because you never will and you’re not the person I imagine. I won’t say f*ck you because none of this even bothers me anymore. I see now. You’re a part of this sad online community where people go when they can’t be someone in real life. It reveals what you believe about yourself and that you’re not grabbing life by the horns because something holds you back. So you stay in this area where everything can be a facade, a non-real life community. As much as you claim ‘but you see these people for brief periods where you use them’, that is not real-life, it’s briefly, temporarily using people where you can simply step away and back into real life easily, back to what’s real. You will probably never in your whole life leave any of it. You can be a star in a particular circle of outcasts. I get it. This is what busys you, so why say f*ck you. It’s not like you’re off doing something amazing without me. You’re grazing the surface of living.

New Confession

When I was in college my roommate was raped and murdered in a stairwell. I left that school and later completed my degree on line. I lived with my mother.

I had a long time jib working for a cupcake store. One random day a man stopped for a birthday cupcake for his secretary. I asked him if men still had secretaries. He asked if I had an education. Since I had a degree I could be his secretary, the birthday girl was moving.

The company offices had fifty people, mostly male, engineers. The other females were all young, dressed well, fawned over the men. Hired for their looks. I was hired for my looks, 22 blonde.

The man, he wanted a secretary who was affectionate to him. Kiss on the cheek every morning. Wore dresses, a little cleavage. A slap across the a** type of man. He kissed me in his office, felt me up and told me he was coming to my house. I told him I lived with my mother.

He showed up and my mother told me to serve him. He told her he was there for me. He saw me at the cupcake store and decided to marry me.

My mother asked Jim questions, like interviewing him for me. He passed, professional, manager, good job, but how did she know if he could father children. I got married anyways , fingers crossed.

Five years without children. Five years of keeping myself away from him. Five years of this and that girl. He turned 33, I either got pregnant or he would leave me.

Coercion. Blackmail. Forced to comply. It was as awful as I imagined. You only give up your virgin status once. It was awful. What can I say. He repeated it to make sure I got pregnant.

You see, my college roommate was my lover. When I lost her everything ended for me. I married him to please my mother. It’s awful, what can I say. I’m cheating on her memory. This child in me, if I have a girl I will name her after Cristina.

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