When it sucks the worst to be me: when I am ailing and in desperate need of soup and drugs and companionship.

And instead I am alone.

I freaked out a little bit at the Writer tonight. We have plans for tomorrow afternoon before I am hosting a dinner and I had something very particular I wanted to do.

So I told him and his response was “ok” then “we can do that.” I said in response “heh. I note your lack of enthusiasm.”

And then silence for 30 minutes.

He was on Facebook, writing and commenting about a project he’s doing.

But to me, silence.

So I let half an hour go before texting again: We can do something else.

He sent a series of messages about 3 minutes later, convinced I was joking:

Him: ahahahah
9/5/13 9:29 PM
Him: not at all ‘)
9/5/13 9:29 PM
Him: 🙂
9/5/13 9:29 PM
Him: we can fuck however you like, gorgeous
9/5/13 9:29 PM
Me: No. It’s cool.
9/5/13 9:30 PM
Him: sweetie. that sounds hot as shit.
9/5/13 9:31 PM
Him: you are misreading
9/5/13 9:31 PM
Him: would love to [ 4 explicit texts]
Me: it was just a thought I had.
9/5/13 9:34 PM

And then, he called me.

He’s home. And he got up from wherever to call me.

We talk for about 10 minutes.

He explains I misinterpreted and that’s not what he meant.

I told him that I wanted to be in the drivers’ seat. And I told him that I don’t feel that I pull my weight sexually, and I really felt that way early on.

It’s sort of a ridiculous thing for me to say judging by his reaction.

He tells me I am being silly, that this is a two-way street [my words], and they he loves being with me.

He said, I wish I could bring you soup. I wish he could too. I told him that’s the thing that sucks right now.

I am ailing and I am alone.

If I want soup, I have to get up and make it. He laughed and said what About your lesbian housemates. I reminded him “bi” and only one is really here and she was already asleep.

So it isn’t just the the writer can’t be here, it’s that I don’t have anyone in my life who can be my +1 at the moment.

I said to the reporter earlier: I need a fake bf to bring to stuff. It doesn’t need to be someone real, but I need someone to stand in.

It sucks that I am hosting a dinner tomorrow solo. It sucks that I have a wedding In a month: solo.

It sucks that I want soup and to cuddle up with the Writer but I can’t.

That he called me still shocked me.

It felt to me that he was being dismissive of me for bringing up what I wanted to do sexually. It’s usually more of a conversation. It’s usually him steering it.

I wanted to take some control and then I felt dismissed when I expressed myself.

I wasn’t. At all.

That wasn’t his intention. He’s used to our always being on the same page.

But I am ailing and my face hurts and I have a fever and I can’t swallow and I feel awful.

And he called to tell me, to clarify, to be in this with me. And to tell me to go the fuck to sleep.

Me: Now kinda turned on … And relaxed. Xoxo
9/5/13 9:46 PM
Him: good xoxxoxo
9/5/13 9:46 PM

He’s lovely. And he’s in this. And I am an idiot.

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