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Posts Tagged ‘ex-girlfriend’

I was meeting up with my ex girlfriend, the screenwriter, today for coffee when Cooper Fiennes texted me asking if I wanted to meet up and watch the Brazil-Chile match. Curious for them to meet each other, I told him to join us at my favorite cafe. She had heard about him and he, likewise. About 20 minutes later he walked in and she stumbled over herself for the first moments. She has deep-seated insecurities which makes meeting new people incredibly awkward for her.  He excused himself for the restroom and she was able to express her “oh my god”s and “holy shit”s regarding her impression of him. Once he arrived back at the table she was able to relax and speak comfortably with him.

Prior to C.F. , Screenwriter Girl had the best body of anyone I had been with. Unfortunately, her reasons behind the pristine physique were resulting from serious childhood sexual abuse trauma. A need to feel physically strong, since she is an emotional cripple. I care about her, but how do I say this? I was NEVER in love with her. She needed too much rescuing and I was already lost.  C.F.actually commented later on this. He said that there was something in her eyes that showed her traumas to the world. Even after she has gained physical strength, she has been unable to feel safe and heal. Her body is not a tool for fun and sport, as it is with C.F., this is their difference. Cooper Fiennes relishes sport of all types for how alive it makes him feel. The more his body aches, the more he pushes and challenges himself, the more alive and vibrant he feels. It’s incredibly sexy. Screenwriter Girl is trapped in her body, Cooper Fiennes uses his as an instrument of freedom.

I realized that the match had begun nearly twenty minutes prior and we really needed to get out the door and find a pub close by with food and the game. It was destined to be a good game, both teams are historically strong players with great coaches, so it could go either way. We left the cafe and said cheers to Screenwriter Girl and headed down the street. The Irish pub around the corner had air conditioning (THANK GOD!) and we found a seat right below the flat screen. 0-0 with a half hour in. We ordered some ciders, some food, and settled in. He pulled my stool closer to his and proceeded to act like a 14-year-old boy the entire match. You know, the “I poke you cause I like you” game? I love that he actually explains certain aspects of the game to me, things such as why there is a difference in the calls made by the English refs versus Spanish refs, what constitutes a yellow card or a foul, etc. He does it without my asking. While I have always liked International Football, I have watched it without knowing much about the game besides the obvious: ball goes into net equals goal. Dating C.F. has MANY benefits, apparently!!!

Brazil squashed Chile 3-0. It was a great game, but Chile could have played stronger. Not wanting to brave the heat, which was still nearly 35 degrees celsius/ 94 degrees farenheit , we had the waitress switch on Wimbledon for twenty minutes. Roddick had his ass handed to him by Yen-Hsun Lu and Capriati was rushed to the hospital for an accidental overdose. Between Capriati’s issues and Aggasi having been a meth user, who knew that Tennis could be so full of illicit behaviors?! It always seemed more refined some how. I guess when Tiger has a harem, Agassi smokes the pipe and Capriati abuses prescription pills, there is no such thing as refined sports anymore. Public figures are public figures and they all are susceptible to demons that fame can bring.

We wandered out, immediately wilted in the heat and decided to grab some ice cream for the stroll back to the train station. On the way he poked me no less than 30 times, and we stopped in 5 stores with air conditioning just to cool off for a few moments. We grabbed one more iced tea at Starbucks and sat chatting before parting ways on the street.

Meanwhile, I have been starting my period all day and annoyed that I couldn’t get a piece of ass if I begged. I’ve decided that hard to get is my new alter ego. If either of these boys want booty, they gotta work for it and jump through hoops, cause I’m not gonna be so easy anymore, damn it. Sigh, even if it means that I end up so sexually frustrated that I develop carpal tunnel from masturbating.

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My ex broke up with her girlfriend…AGAIN. Hopefully it sticks this time. The relationship is volatile and dangerous. If everything that has happened now, isn’t sufficient reason to leave, it will take one of them in the hospital and/or jail in order to finally end this relationship. So, she called me after picking up her things from the other woman’s apartment and was headed home when I suggested that I buy her and her mother lunch, someplace cheap, so that they could just decompress and potentially have a few laughs, rather than wallowing in a bad place. She agreed.

We met halfway between where I was with my dog and a client and the, now, ex-girlfriend’s apartment. A Panera Bread cafe. They have this apple chicken salad I LOVE. Her mom had a ham and swiss on rye and my ex, she had the tomato soup…and picked at it, as she picks at all her food. We were sitting there listening to her dissect, again and again, this girlfriend and the actions that led up to this moment. It’s exhausting after a while. All you can do is be supportive, but sometimes, that is difficult when they can’t be supportive of themselves. It feels like a losing battle.

I realized as we sat there that there was a sex shop around the corner. Hmm, I need condoms. I have the Kimono Large because the guy I was hoping to be with when I bought them was jewish and a bit girthy than average. Type Geek is not jewish so the large would be wrong. After we finished our lunch, my ex and I wandered over while her mom sat in her car. Her mom was a little embarrassed. We walked in and she went off and pouted, looking around and thinking of her now ex. I stood staring at the condoms. So foreign to me after 12 years with women. I had hoped to get some regulars but they didn’t have the extra thin regular Kimonos. Hmmpf. I ended up picking up a couple Skyns and some Avanti Bares. The Polyisophrene material is supposedly far superior to latex in terms of heat transfer and feeling, both for the wearer and the receiver. We shall see. I also picked up some Sliquid lube, as I was told the Skyns can sometimes dry out quickly without additional assistance. Not good and good to know!

Perhaps I will get a chance to try them out on Saturday evening AND Sunday morning. One never does know what the world shall bring. Type Geek and I have that date with the dog and an outdoor music festival on Saturday afternoon. Sun and grass can be quite good for the libido, especially if I figure out how to wear something that isn’t suggestive but is. Hmm, demure sundress sans panties? All I know is this… I have been thinking of having sex on Type Geek’s kitchen table for days. Why? I am not sure, but surely, this would be quite fun. That is a small goal for this coming weekend.

The rest of the week is shaping up to be post worthy. Cooper Fiennes and I are grabbing a cocktail and a trip to the cinema tonight, and Brooklyn wants a dog free lunch meet up on Thursday. How will this be? I haven’t seen him in over a month I think. I have been able to subdue my feelings for him, compartmentalized them in a way that is safe and allows me to exist without constant thoughts. I miss him, yes. I miss that connection. I can’t continue as we have been however, I can’t continue being disregarded. I’m not sure what is going to come out in our conversation over lunch, if we make it to lunch. I might find him too frustrating to be around and just walk away. Perhaps, this is what needs to happen.

Sweet, sweet “hump day”, the week is at mid-point, but there are still so many stories that need to be told, adventures to go on, life to be lived, before the week cycles into the next. I can’t sleep with the Spaniard. Not yet. That would be too many men in 7 days. I do want some kisses against a wall and in the rain though. How hot would that be? Mmmm, yeah. Super hot.

So, what are your experiences out there with all the different types of condoms? Informal survey… comment with your most favorites, least favorites, what ones broke (the horror), what ones made you thing a steel drum around your cock would have given more sensation?! Inquiring minds, we want to know!

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