2004-02-10 - 10:58 p.m.

last night was fucking delicious!

and of course the real problem with such a rich night, is that i don't know what to do with myself the next night, right now.

so i'm eating cereal. it's the best i could do late and feeling too ugly to walk down the street and buy chocolate milk and cigarettes.

so last night. said x hustles over. i roll out the futon, as my bed is way to squeeky to just really let it all go.

now i'm thinking of how incredible and easy sex is with someone you know, you love, but somehow don't really care/or are invested in wondering what they think of you. i know he's semi-mad about me, but also isn't wanting anything from me. and is obviously getting enough of whatever somewhere else as well.

it was so liberating. with m i felt all inhibited by how much i hate myself. how self conscious i got with my body being not enough, or being way too much.

but with the x, fuck. it was his bday the day before, so i layed him down on the futon on the floor, gave him a little massage, an incredible blow job that i was really into. i really enjoyed it, turned me on. (not typical, i'm usually too selfish or not into the guy enough).

you should of seen his face when i told him i had my period, i tried to convince him it was a good thing. hehaha. anyway. after the bj, he looks up and says are we going to 'do it?' which we did. afterwards he said look at the carnage. i guess it was a mess. a delicious wonderful mess.

i finally really let myself go. and he was so tender and i felt completely trusting and loved and physically adored. even with my boobi's fallin, he only commented on how big they looked. i felt so filled up. i know, this is the cheaters version to wholeness. but *whatever*.

on bottom. loving it on top. when i was bottom, he would try to look into my eyes and i'd look away and say don't make me shy, it's something i can't completely handle, but when i was on top he started to grab my hair back, which i loved and we were peering into eachothers eye's steadily.

it was the absolutely closest i've felt to someone since ben or that very first relationship that ended when i started this diary. since it was just a night, i really opening up a slice. but that was all, a slice and it made me sad to see just how closed i am. and i am closed cuz i'm so afraid to be hurt or gyrated from within.

afterwards we lay so easily, so comfortably together. just chillin, friends, loving eachother. no drama. no fights. he told me sublime stories about an man on a indian train who flipped headfirst out the window. how this guy was trying to talk indian to him and was insane and how packed it was and how crazy he was and his glance in his eyes as he did it. and then how my friend wondered if it would be appropriate to take his snakeskin jacket after his plummet, until another passenger took it before he could. then how this woman the other day was run over slowly by a cement truck. right on westwood blvd. her bike got trapped and it just rolled her. i was captivated. i love hearing a story from a real story teller. engrossed. we held eachother, he kissed me all over. then he left and i ate my tunamelt left overs on the futon and slept all night there, like a secret sleepover/picnic.

i wonder what he's thinking today. i sent him a nice note commending his vast powers.

i certainly enjoyed the fruits of them. that was the best night we ever spent. our whole past was strife with utter caos, sharp edges and arguements.

and so it goes.

and so it goes.