Hidey Ho Lovers!
I’m sure you’re all thinking, “wait a minute, it’s Tuesday night; shouldn’t Claire be busy getting busy?” And you’re absolutely right Lovers! That is exactly what I should be doing. But sadly I remain unravaged, my bed made and in pristine condition with nary a wrinkle in sight. My bin is empty, devoid of condoms, used or otherwise and my poor little panty hamster remains locked in her cage, albeit with much less fur than yesterday. Note to self: Don’t shave unless you know for sure the man is coming! But why? Why is there no saucy sausage being offered to the beast right at this moment? Good question Lovers, one I’m sure none of you could have guessed the answer too.
The crazy fool electrocuted himself!
Don’t worry Lovers he’s ok! Obviously that was the first question I asked. He followed his sorry I can’t come I’ve been electrocuted message with a lovely photo of him in hospital with wires coming out of him every which way.
So at least I know he’s not a liar. That’s good right?
Anyways I did attempt to get him over the next day so I could take care of him, (take care of him and then extract my payment of course 😉 ) but he was of course still way too tired and shaky today. It’s a shame really, in my head I was secretly wondering if a bit of a buzz would make things more electric in the boudoir as well, but I guess I’ll never know. Probably a blessing in disguise really, if he was much better my head might explode.
But oh the dreams Lovers! The sexy sexy dreams! I’ve been so deprived lately that whenever I close my eyes, my mind delivers the most delicious smut films of all time, all in glorious technicolour. Honestly it’s scary the way I leap into bed now, I’m just so excited to get to sleep! And oh boy do I love a good Nanna nap in the afternoon. That’s when the really good stuff happens and you can still remember it for ages as you slowly come awake (pun intended.) Now I know why so many people love a good cat nap! You naughty fiends, it’s all about the sex! Those Mexican’s have the right idea. Siesta’s for all!
So, considering the only sex I’m currently having is when I’m unconscious, we’ll carry on with Rick saga. When I left you Rick and I were on a week long trial. If any arguments erupted, that was it. We had to try for a fight free week.
Pfft, good luck losers.
We began the trial on a Thursday night and on Friday things were peachy, with romantic texts and lunchtime phone calls making my day. Even better, Rick had organized a night out for us and a couple of our friends on the Saturday. I was so very happy. I hadn’t had a night out since my disastrous birthday and I was more than ready to put that behind me. So when Saturday night rolled around we all gathered at my house and began drinking.
When we eventually made it out onto the town we were well and truly tipsy. Everyone was having a great time dancing, drinking and generally making fools of ourselves. So I thought nothing of it when one of my girlfriends asked me to step out with her for some air. I looked over to Rick, who was ensconced in an intense game of pac-man in the bars game corner, and decided to leave him to it. I would be gone for five minutes, he probably wouldn’t even notice.
Oh he noticed alright.
After taking a stroll around the block and having a girly gossip with my girlfriend we returned to the bar only to find everyone standing out the front looking annoyed.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, slightly worried
Tom, Rick’s mate, just pointed to the side of the road where Rick was sitting alone. My stomach dropped. I knew what this would be about. I had left him alone, and he wasn’t happy. For the first time though, I didn’t care. He was the one being so sensitive. I couldn’t be around him every second of every day! And so it was with not the kindest attitude that I approached him and asked what was wrong. As I suspected, he was angry at me for not telling him where I went, claiming something could have happened to me and he wouldn’t have known. I tried to keep things light and joke about it but Rick wasn’t having any of it. He stood up and started shouting at me about how I always put myself first and never considered his feelings blah blah blah. It all started to blur together for me and I stopped listening. It wasn’t until he was halfway down the street that I realized he had stopped talking.
With a start I realized the big wuss had decided to run away and was bolting down the road at a million miles an hour.
I looked on as his mates chased him down and tried to stop him. Typical, I thought, run away and cry like always.
“That’s a bit harsh.” Said my girlfriend, and I realized I had spoken out loud.
“No, that’s just Rick.” I replied “He does this a lot. I’m over it.”
Eventually the boys dragged his sorry ass back to me where we sat in a corner so we could have another one of those awesome ‘talks.’
“I’ve ruined it!” Rick wailed “I love you so much and I wrecked it!”
“Well, yes, yes you have.” I replied dryly. Rick was taken back by my matter of fact tone, but there was no point sugar coating it. “We tried. I love you too but I can’t do this anymore. We can’t even go one week without you bursting into tears. I’m sorry Rick, it’s over.”
I felt tears begin to prick behind my eyes as through my alcoholic haze the situation began to sink in. This really was it. I had thought Rick was the one, that that crazy in love feeling we had for each other would burn brightly for years, but it had flickered out in only four short months. My first real relationship was over (Charlie didn’t count. Both parties need to be single before entering into a relationship.) I really started to cry then, big heaving sobs. The girls picked me up and we got a taxi home. Through the window I could see Rick’s face, just as tear-stained as mine. I hoped fervently he would be all right by himself.
The next day I woke up feeling numb. Today was the day I had to collect my things from Rick. I wished it could have been a clean break, but I had some really cool shirts at his place and there was no way I could leave my i-pod there. And so with the heaviest of hearts I dragged myself out of bed and over to his place. He answered the door looking disheveled and miserable. I had to steel myself against his charms. I would not give in to him again. It was the right thing to do, this breaking up business. We didn’t make each other happy anymore, so we would not see each other anymore.
When a relationship breaks down there are a couple of ways to end it. The clean break, with no contact with each other for at least three months, known commonly as the he-tox. There’s the ‘let’s stay friends’ approach, which rarely works as usually one person still holds a candle for the other and lastly, there is the ‘it’s over but actually it’s not’ method. This method, while invariably being the most fun, energetic and orgasmic, is also one of the most painful ways to go. So of course Rick and I chose that way.
Things may have been over between us, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t have one last goodbye session between the sheets right? We owed it to ourselves and our fantastic sexual compatibility to have one last saucy smash out. And good god did we smash it! It was simply the best sex I had had in my life. The knowledge that it was the last time really made us savour every moment. Every feeling we’d ever had for each other, every argument, every moment went into that session. I came twice for the first time ever!
That has to this day not occurred again (not for lack of trying).
Once we were done we lay in each others arms for hours, not wanting the day to end. It was strangely the happiest we had been in weeks. No fighting or bickering about petty things, just us. Just us enjoying each other. Eventually the time came for me to start that always interesting scavenger hunt for my clothes. It didn’t help that Rick had hidden my bra to make the search take longer.
Finally though, we made the long walk from the bedroom to his front door. I wouldn’t let him walk me to my car as I probably would have stowed him in the boot as my personal pleasure toy, and of course because saying goodbye to him was one of the hardest things I had ever done. I couldn’t bear to drag it out. We said our goodbye’s and I walked away without looking back.
Two agonizing days into my he-tox I got a text from Rick, asking me to meet him for a coffee. I of course should of said no but love is fickle and so I went. We didn’t even get to coffee. We did however get it on in the back of Rick’s car. Who needs caffeine when you’ve got that? Afterwards we chatted about how much we missed each other and did a little crying before it was time to say goodbye again,
And so we developed a system. We were broken up, yes, but that didn’t stop us meeting up in any and all random places to ‘console’ each other. Each goodbye got harder than the last until I just became one big bundle of nerves, crying at the drop of a hat. If we didn’t stop this I would either have to marry the guy just to lay claim to his magical penis or surgically remove it and insert some batteries into his balls. Unfortunately neither of those options seemed very viable.
So what to do?
Pickup line of the week: Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs exist right?