No, NO light-hearted post today!

This post was supposed to be funny....

Oh, the joke is on me, now isn't it!

I haven't had sex in 6 months. I haven't been kissed or held since January. The loneliness is settling in my bones. I don't mind not having sex. I do miss the text messages, the e-mails, and the kissing. I'm a great kisser! Lol. I fear that its been so long, I would have forgotten by the time the lucky guy comes along and then I'll be idk...alone again. I digress.

Last night, I dreamt I spent Christmas with Afroman and the white girl he left me for. He hates when I refer to her as such but...I hate he left me for her so we're even. We were having Christmas duck and they were arguing because, naturally, she didn't want me there and then his brother had sex with a post-op tranny. This all took place in Buffalo where they share a home but it looked just like my mother's house. I know. Weird.

Tonight, I thought about CPR. He is an older male blogger (read:40) from Chicago I was talking to in October. It was pretty serious until he sent me pictures of women tied up saying he wanted to do that to me. It involved butt plugs and leather and I freaked. He came to NY and I ignored all his phone calls. He is very prideful and left me a message sounding very hurt. I still feel awful about it. Anyway, I lay down and start drafting an apology letter in my head. Then, I start pseudo-dreaming...like, I'm not asleep but I'm not awake. I'm sitting at my computer drafting the letter the I start dreaming of Blair. I knock on his door in some really cute boots and dress. He's wearing some sweats and a wifebeater. Before he can say anything I start kissing him. I pass right by him and go to his room. When he comes inside, I start beating him up. Did I mention he's 6ft3, 250 pounds? He overpowers me, places my hands above my head, kisses me, and lifts my dress up. I'm not wearing underwear.

My dream shifts to the first guy I ever made out with. I was 13. (I'll tell the whole story later...) He was 6ft6 and in the 250-300lb range. A football player from the smallest town ever in South Carolina. We're kissing again and he lifts me up and its Aussie. He lays me on a bed and starts going down and then its Dame. Dame and I are cuddling and he's telling me he hopes I won't hurt him. I'm back in Blair's bed. Memories of certain situations are playing in my head.

I'm tossing and turning and that's when I do it. I have a bad habit of grinding my teeth when I'm stressed or upset except my wisdom tooth - the gums around it- have been swollen for a few days. I feel myself bite down hard. The pain wakes me up and the entire left side of my face tenses up. I jump up and go to the bathroom. Anbesol and excedrin. Anbesol makes it worse. I lay down. I feel like someone is reaching through my gums and squeezing my head in their fist.

I take a drink. I've got some peach rum in the kitchen.

More excedrin. Usually works like a charm.

Nope. I am praying and writhing in pain. The fist released my head.
Probably shouldn't be drinking, I think. I can't die from od'ing on pain meds and Bacardi. My mom would be disappointed. My house is a mess!

More excedrin. The pain is subsiding. Oops! Haha..it was just playing. Its back. I feel like someone has punched me in the fast repeatedly in the same spot. Praying more. Rocking back and forth like a psycho.

Ok, I'll give it til 2am then I'll go to the hospital. Oh yea, no insurance. This is gonna cost $500.

More Anbesol. More pain. Stupid.
More excedrin. More praying.

The pain slowly subsides. Its 2am and I start blogging this.

Its 2:15 now. The pain is so dull, I can probably fall asleep now.

How am I going to get through working all day tomorrow on no sleep? I have to be up at 6:30.

Great.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile