The Brit

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I decided to get involved with this foreign guy, that I had met through a friend. We met at a little bootleg-but-still-ok house party, where I took it upon myself to be the entertainer for the night. I was just telling stories about various what-the-fuck moments in my life and trying to get everyone as drunk as I was tryna be, in hopes that everyone else starts doing shit that’s worth all of our time. Anyway, I guess he really liked me after that and wanted my ass. He wanted to hang out that night, but I told him his  his little 5’8″ ass had to stay right where it was. I was going out with some friends later and we didn’t know him anyway. so instead, he had been coming on to me as hard as a text message would allow. It was sweet and flattering and all, but I still wasn’t “really” feeling it. He was nice to glance at, not stare.
So, a day goes by, and I have this kid, whose time is limited in this country, that really wants me and I eventually decide that I’m going to hang out with this kid. By the time I came around to wanting to hang with him, I had fallen out of a car and fucked up my left side of my face, so I wasn’t feeling my hottest…
You would think that if you find yourself getting involved with someone hideous, you’d wonder: “da fuck was I thinking!?!?” and try to avoid that ugliness, as if your life depended on it. But this foreigner, whether out of sincere interest or thirst, didn’t give a shit about my face. That’s what really got me I guess, so we started seeing each other.
It was nice with the guy, while the honeymoon phase lasted. We’d go on little dates, I’d stomach through hangouts with his simple sally fag hags, I endured long and torturous hours of “Doctor Who” marathons and got the approval of the whole international department (after all, I am a fucking great catch, if you ask me).
During all of this progress we were making, I started noticing he was only himself, as in gay as fuck, around me. To the rest of the world, he was a closeted case, that was in denial. I was OK with that, though.
Everyone has their own way and time of doing things, and I am not one to force someone to do something they aren’t ready for. But hunny, the thing that did bother me though, was when he would get mad for no apparent reason and then not want to talk about it. Well, eventually, like, after a week or so, he would want to talk about it. But Hunny ,by that time I didn’t give shit. Anytime something would happen, where he would lash out like that, I would want to talk about the situation right then and there. Or damn, at least get a date and time when he would be ready to talk. I can only investigate and pry for so long, before I’m ready to move the fuck on!
Turns out he would get all upset with me, because I woud act too gay… WHAT THE FUCK IS TOO GAY?!?!
I mean, I know, but that’s so off topic. My thing is, he should’ve known what he was getting himself into, when we had initially first met. I wasn’t hiding shit from him. Hell, I barely gave a shit about him that night, so why would I not be myself!?!? Everyone else I surround myself with seems to like my “myself”; He just doesn’t like himself… Or something along those lines. There’s definitely a lot of fucking (in the bad way) going on in his mind. And Hunny, he’s not the top either. Allegedly in the UK it’s either you’re in the closet 24/7, or you live a life getting the shit beaten out of you, if you still love yourself enough not to commit suicide. (If you know anything about this, I would totally love for you to shed some light on this subject)
But anyway, despite all of the above and the fact that he disowned me, when technically, according to him, we were never together in the first place… Hunny just a sec. Now, it’s one thing to get dumped, but “disowned”!?! And yet, despite all of that, of course I still care for the guy. In my experience, everyone, regardless of how wrong they’ve done you (and this guy hasn’t really done me any wrong or anything like that, I’m not tryna say he did), they still deserve respect and the acknowledgement that y’all had something special, even if it was just,  I don’t know, for a quick fuck.  It could’ve been a guy or gal that was so great when you first met him or her, but then turns out to be a serial killer that tried to murder you. First of all, you survived! Second, you’re smarter, stronger, know what you want, whatever it may be… at the end of the day, you have that killer to thank for it.
Hunny, do your best to live without regrets ❤
This is the song I associate him with now though, and if it wouldn’t drive him to the suicidal so much, I’d share it with him.
Thanks for reading!
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2 comments

  1. Pingback: Now entering “The Friend Zone” | Hunny, lemme tell u 'bout it!

  2. Pingback: Dancing to the Beef | Hunny, lemme tell u 'bout it!

Hunny, tell me 'bout it!

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