Long Distance Lust

“I want to pack you in my suitcase and take you home to Sweden,” The Swede told me.

We were walking to the bathroom at unSCruz.

He’d had some whiskey and his lips were loose.

It was utterly charming.

“I can’t ask you to wait, can I?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

My heart lurched a little bit.

This big, cuddly, soft-spoken, shy man has cleverly wormed his way into my heart.

“It’s been such a fun weekend,” I told him.

Part of me really wanted to say, “Let’s do this!”

But I know I’m no good at long distance relationships.

Not at all.

I’m not really good at relationships, fullstop.

At least not in recent times, at least.

What makes me think that I could make it work when we live 8,600+ miles apart (as the crow flies)?

Stupidity?

Romanticism?

Affection?

Full blown LUST?

Whatever the cause – stupidity or lust, the end result is the same.

Me, single.

What else could I be?

Come back to bed, Michelle

michelleCome back to bed, Michelle

One short phrase I’d love to hear someone say to me.

It’s not easy being single.

Putting yourself out there over and over again, all the while wondering if there is some fatal flaw in me that makes me so unloveable.

I have undergone so much self improvement it’s amusing.

HAI Level 1 (twice) and Level 2.

OM training.

Advanced Blow Job class (just in case I needed skills).

Skydiving.

Homebrew 101 and 102.

And of course, just to prove I’m a daredevil – running with the bulls.

And that’s just 1/10 of the shit I’ve done.

If I get any more accomplished, I’ll have to marry a prince.

And yet I still go to bed alone every night.

There’s  no one to tell my exciting stories to.

At the end of the day, when I’m drained and just want to snuggle on the couch and eat popcorn with while I wait for my Door Dash delivery, there’s NO ONE THERE.

Just my cat Princess.

I’m not gonna lie to you and say that being single is always fun.

Because sometimes IT REALLY SUCKS!

And if you’re me, dabbling in pseudo-relationships, not having someone to talk to even when you’ve got someone to bed is the pits.

Come back to bed, Michelle.

Music to my ears.