jason_grvin
Active Member
“Note: I’m not a writer, I’m a musician. I write short little essays with a thesis you can sing along with. I’m not a story writer. I’m dipping my toes into the water here. Any and all feedback is welcomed and will be taken to heart. If you take the time to read, please take the time to comment. Thanks.”
YOU’RE ALL I NEED
I’m not a super great guy. I try to be. I think we all try to be, right? At the end of the day though I’m just not that great at being relationship material. I work too hard, I don’t do enough to keep myself decompressed after all those hours of work. And really, it’s my own fault. A full time job and three half time jobs all going on at the same time, really who has time to do anything but work, eat, bathe quickly, try and catch some sleep and wake up and do it all again? It’s rough and it’s my own fault.
Add to all that the fact that I just never really felt that I deserved the kind of love and affection from a woman that I hear about in music, see in movies, and read about in books, it does make for some troubled times when it comes to a relationship.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not needy. I don’t ask for a lot. Just be here, be patient with me. I’ll get through my own shortcomings and it’ll be awesome, I promise.
Anyway.
I was in my early thirties when it all came down around me. The woman I’d been with for over two years left me to go back to her parents because, no surprise to me, she wasn’t getting what she needed from me. I was left, quite unceremoniously I might add, with a house full of cats, video games, musical equipment, the internet and a lot of appliances that just didn’t cut the mustard when it came to impressing anyone let alone a potential romantic partner.
Bachelor life achievement unlocked. Even had PBR and mustard in the fridge.
Fast forward a bit and I, as anyone really would I think, got a little tired of the whole “self love” thing and decided to seek out some NSA/FWB style company. I thought if at the very least I couldn’t keep a relationship together at least I and another consenting adult could help reduce and relieve a little stress once in a while. I’m not flinging myself at just anyone mind you but I’m no prude either. I do have some standards.
Thankfully I live in the digital age and the magic series of tubes that is the internet led me to meet someone thanks to a singles site. She lived a few hours away, not too far to make it unlikely that we’d ever meet but far enough away that it wouldn’t be a little weird if we just happened to run into each other getting snacks at a gas station. Comfortable distance ya know? Comfortable distance.
As luck would have it, it was the right time for us both. It had been a while, we were looking for some companionship, we didn’t want to get in too deep. Comfortable distance again, ya dig?
We met, had a very busy evening that included dinner some drinks and falling asleep together sticky and contented. There was also a moment in the middle of the night where a brief reenactment took place just to make sure we had done everything correctly.
I know a lot of people here are all about the numbers so I suppose we should get into that a bit. Me? About six foot tall. Ok… five eleven barefoot but I’m rarely barefoot. Average build guy 190 – 200 pounds or so. Though I should say I’d love to get back down to around 175 – 180. It just felt right ya know? Kinda scruffy, long hair. Not trying to make a statement or look bad ass in anyway really, just too cheap to get a haircut and too lazy to really shave. I hate shaving. I have the chops to get into an office and run that place like you wouldn’t believe, but will also take apart any appliance in the house when it starts crapping out. Jack of all trades kinda I suppose.
She… amazing. My height, more than twice me weight, dark hair and eyes, soft lips and skin. She had a big double belly that was just amazingly soft. She has a sweet voice and a wonderful laugh. An amazing personality, smart, funny, into politics and activism and just being right with the world and people in it.
In other words, she is way out of my league. I thought it then, I think it now, I’ll never not think it.
The evening passed as I’m going to assume most of those meetings do. We had a dinner with some awkward conversation make slightly easier by drinks (I’m a scotch guy and she’s into bourbon. How awesome is that?) and a general agreement that fat women are amazingly attractive.
I don’t care how many times you’ve had sex. The first time with a new partner is just weird. You don’t know what they’re into, what they want you to do, what’s going to hurt, what’s going to tickle, what they’re going to consider immoral, what’s going to turn them on, and what’s going to turn them off. You’re flying blind the first time and you just pray that you both get through it and come out (ha ha) on the other end without any fits of laughter, crying, nausea, regret or misplaced fluids.
Thankfully, we passed the test.
The next morning she got back in her car and headed home.
I found myself being generally concerned about her and wondering how she was and what she was doing with her day. We sent an email now and then and a text a few times a day and talked about “Maybe next time, we look each other up again.” It was decided that it would be a good idea.
Before I knew it I was head over heels for this most amazing woman. There was nothing to not like about her. It had only been a few weeks by this point but we’d find ourselves together almost every weekend and talking about the things we were going to go do and go see the next time we were together.
It had to happen eventually. We were just having one of our generally little chats. I don’t remember who said it first but I’m fairly certain it was me. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I love you. Good night.”
"Note: That’s all I’ve got for now. If you’d like more please let me know and I’ll get some more stuff happening when I can. Probably not quite as sexual as you were hoping but that’s not where I wanted to take this. Anyway, thanks for reading. All comments are welcome.”
YOU’RE ALL I NEED
I’m not a super great guy. I try to be. I think we all try to be, right? At the end of the day though I’m just not that great at being relationship material. I work too hard, I don’t do enough to keep myself decompressed after all those hours of work. And really, it’s my own fault. A full time job and three half time jobs all going on at the same time, really who has time to do anything but work, eat, bathe quickly, try and catch some sleep and wake up and do it all again? It’s rough and it’s my own fault.
Add to all that the fact that I just never really felt that I deserved the kind of love and affection from a woman that I hear about in music, see in movies, and read about in books, it does make for some troubled times when it comes to a relationship.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not needy. I don’t ask for a lot. Just be here, be patient with me. I’ll get through my own shortcomings and it’ll be awesome, I promise.
Anyway.
I was in my early thirties when it all came down around me. The woman I’d been with for over two years left me to go back to her parents because, no surprise to me, she wasn’t getting what she needed from me. I was left, quite unceremoniously I might add, with a house full of cats, video games, musical equipment, the internet and a lot of appliances that just didn’t cut the mustard when it came to impressing anyone let alone a potential romantic partner.
Bachelor life achievement unlocked. Even had PBR and mustard in the fridge.
Fast forward a bit and I, as anyone really would I think, got a little tired of the whole “self love” thing and decided to seek out some NSA/FWB style company. I thought if at the very least I couldn’t keep a relationship together at least I and another consenting adult could help reduce and relieve a little stress once in a while. I’m not flinging myself at just anyone mind you but I’m no prude either. I do have some standards.
Thankfully I live in the digital age and the magic series of tubes that is the internet led me to meet someone thanks to a singles site. She lived a few hours away, not too far to make it unlikely that we’d ever meet but far enough away that it wouldn’t be a little weird if we just happened to run into each other getting snacks at a gas station. Comfortable distance ya know? Comfortable distance.
As luck would have it, it was the right time for us both. It had been a while, we were looking for some companionship, we didn’t want to get in too deep. Comfortable distance again, ya dig?
We met, had a very busy evening that included dinner some drinks and falling asleep together sticky and contented. There was also a moment in the middle of the night where a brief reenactment took place just to make sure we had done everything correctly.
I know a lot of people here are all about the numbers so I suppose we should get into that a bit. Me? About six foot tall. Ok… five eleven barefoot but I’m rarely barefoot. Average build guy 190 – 200 pounds or so. Though I should say I’d love to get back down to around 175 – 180. It just felt right ya know? Kinda scruffy, long hair. Not trying to make a statement or look bad ass in anyway really, just too cheap to get a haircut and too lazy to really shave. I hate shaving. I have the chops to get into an office and run that place like you wouldn’t believe, but will also take apart any appliance in the house when it starts crapping out. Jack of all trades kinda I suppose.
She… amazing. My height, more than twice me weight, dark hair and eyes, soft lips and skin. She had a big double belly that was just amazingly soft. She has a sweet voice and a wonderful laugh. An amazing personality, smart, funny, into politics and activism and just being right with the world and people in it.
In other words, she is way out of my league. I thought it then, I think it now, I’ll never not think it.
The evening passed as I’m going to assume most of those meetings do. We had a dinner with some awkward conversation make slightly easier by drinks (I’m a scotch guy and she’s into bourbon. How awesome is that?) and a general agreement that fat women are amazingly attractive.
I don’t care how many times you’ve had sex. The first time with a new partner is just weird. You don’t know what they’re into, what they want you to do, what’s going to hurt, what’s going to tickle, what they’re going to consider immoral, what’s going to turn them on, and what’s going to turn them off. You’re flying blind the first time and you just pray that you both get through it and come out (ha ha) on the other end without any fits of laughter, crying, nausea, regret or misplaced fluids.
Thankfully, we passed the test.
The next morning she got back in her car and headed home.
I found myself being generally concerned about her and wondering how she was and what she was doing with her day. We sent an email now and then and a text a few times a day and talked about “Maybe next time, we look each other up again.” It was decided that it would be a good idea.
Before I knew it I was head over heels for this most amazing woman. There was nothing to not like about her. It had only been a few weeks by this point but we’d find ourselves together almost every weekend and talking about the things we were going to go do and go see the next time we were together.
It had to happen eventually. We were just having one of our generally little chats. I don’t remember who said it first but I’m fairly certain it was me. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I love you. Good night.”
"Note: That’s all I’ve got for now. If you’d like more please let me know and I’ll get some more stuff happening when I can. Probably not quite as sexual as you were hoping but that’s not where I wanted to take this. Anyway, thanks for reading. All comments are welcome.”
