Snog, marry, avoid?

Girls night out tonight. As you would expect 11 girls who work with 45 boys only have one topic of conversation when they go out to dinner. That would be the 45 boys they work with. And despite the age range of 23-35 it all devolved into one big round game of Snog, Marry or Avoid.

Every one of my three choices contained Byron. Figures right? Perils of working together I guess people are bound to make up rumours.

On the way home though I gave it some thought. Byron and I are playing our own version of Snog, Marry Avoid.

Snog - well we make out like teenagers whenever we can steal 30 minutes alone (he's also currently getting the occasional blow job from me. I really should stop that but I find it too much fun myself so doubt I will).

Marry - well this is an abstract one for us. We're not actually having sex which is kinda like a marriage. We argue like a long married couple. Knowing my luck I will marry the annoying little shorty and one or both of us is going to end up cheating on the other. Fidelity isn't exactly a strong suit for either of us it seems.

Avoid - well he's been doing that since Monday night (i.e. the last time he got his dick sucked). I'm trying to rationally tell myself it's a busy week at work. However its that time of the month when I'm irrational as fuck. So ranting about it here. Because otherwise tomorrow I might bite his head off entirely rather than dropping to my knees and giving him head....

Hiatus

Urgh, this os not going to be pleasant for me to put into words.

One of my closest relatives died the other week. There was a delay in the funeral so I've been keeping a lid on it all. The funeral was this past Friday. My nerves feel like they've been rubbed with sandpaper then cleaned with vinegar.

Granted this relative was elderly this was sudden. Someone made a mistake. The word "inquiry" is never one you want bandied about at a wake.

I'm too raw to write anymore tonight. Other than to say I've not heard from Dutch Boy since our last night together. I miss him strangely.

The Needling Exchange

Oh Byron is driving me insane. Even on a friends basis he drives me up the walls. 

So apparently his date from the weekend is "The One". Right... And I'm Santa Claus. 

Of all the ways to rebound he's going back to a childhood sweetheart. Because they have a real spark and I am someone who is tolerated. 

It took me approximately 4.5 minutes to jot in my phone the 6 main ways this will fail. I wonder how long till I'm proved right yet again...

In other needle news I'm sticking it to him just as good discussing my confusion over Dutch Boy. Friday night was such an effort on his part and in some ways so romantic. 

Haven't heard from him. Men are impossible...

Double Dutch

So spent last night again with Dutch boy. I was supposed to be out with work colleagues but I skipped in favour of bringing forward a night with by 24 hours.

And oh boy what a night.

This is only the second time I've met him. First time was drinks at the Shard and an afternoon of truly excellent sex at his place. There is something about this guy even when he talks - very old streak romanticism (he doesn't like it when I point this out I still think its a compliment). He met me off the bus (because I couldn't remember the way back to his) and took me back to his.

Where I found the living room lit by candles, cushions and blankets everywhere. To some that would seem seedy I can assure you it was not. In between all the , again what was frankly fantastic, sex I got a full body massage, cuddle, fussed over and talked to like a human being with some decent level of intelligence. I also got dinner cooked me (a first) and then breakfast this morning. I generally feel spoiled and pampered and above all special right now.

A part of me wishes it had been seedy. A part of me wishes I'd seen the room as the set up for a cheap porn shoot. I wish he's ignored me, not talked to me and sent me packing to my place not holding me occasionally through the night. 

Because seedy is simple. Special raises too many questions.

Sex, Lies and Videotapes

So I was a little bad before Christmas. I gave Byron a blow job in our offices after hours the Friday before Christmas. I was a little bad again last night when I gave him another one after work in my bedroom.

Ok so the night before Christmas. After hours in the office. Just the two of us, alternating between chatting nicely, me learning new things about the business, his hand up my skirt and me on my knees in the meeting room sucking his dick. I had a great night. I actually like it most when me and Byron and like this. It's so damn easy for us to flow through the whole night I am actually struggling to find words to describe it.

Annoyingly I'm sure Byron would like nothing more to weigh in at this point and say it's meaningless that we are able to do that. I'd like to point out to him we are miserable one way or another when we are not behaving like this. We get snippy with each other mainly and uptight and fraught.

Last night was a smaller version of the night before Christmas in so much as the end result was me on my knees with his dick in my mouth. I would like to go on the record as saying I'm not complaining about forever being on my knees it seems. I actually like doing that to guys - it's a power trip and I will never understand women who complain about it but I'm getting off track here.

So there is the sex so far. The lie is we're happy when it's not happening. The videotape? Well avoided disaster. Security cameras have been installed inside our offices for the first time. Luckily they are not discreet and have gone in with a lot of pomp so at least we know we got the chance to fool around in the office without starring in an inadvertent porn film....

Hook, Line and Sinker

So last night I was complaining I have too many guys on the go at the moment. This is still true tonight and I'm forcing myself to knock out a blog post rather than start reeling in another new guy for the fun of it.

My best friend from home is well less of a best friend and more of a non-biological sister. She's known me almost all my life and fancies herself to be something of an amateur psychologist. I think that's what I'll call her from now on - Psy. So according to Psy I am psychologically scarred by my first boyfriend who openly left me for another member of our friendship group.

So now I chase really bad boys. To see if I can make them love me. For many months I've been seeing if I can entice Byron. And since dipping my toes into online dating (ok online fuck buddy meeting)  I'm now just playing a numbers game. How many can I snare?

Feel vaguely bad about this. Unlikely to meet everyone of these guys, not enough hours in the day. But I get off on talking. So I'm off fishing to see what I catch. then it's a case of choosing what I want to bring home for dinner and what I'll throw back into the water.

Pins and needles

I have too many men on the go.

I am trying to have conversations with two different men via two different mediums. Plus my best (female) friend on Facebook. I also have Byron. There was also a 3rd boy via text.

And I wonder why I'm exhausted....

So trains of conversation

Dutch boy (met the other week for an afternoon of FUN I need to type up) - meeting again next weekend. He deserves some serious attention in this blog though. I'll get to that.

Writer boy - bit of a wildcard entry. Out of a long term relationship and a little pushy. But very smart and intriguing to talk to so will consider for one more night.

Jock boy - little young, little dumb but talking a basic game that enough to suggest I'd get a good bang out of him.

I've got pins and needles in my legs from sitting crossed legged at my desk trying to keep up with just these boys.

Byron and I needled each other on the way home. I discussed the various boy's I'm seeing. He apparently is planning a date of his own this weekend. I pointed out some of his more charming faults. He did the same to me. Apparently we're not special to each other. I pointed out that it's only going to take a few more months of this behaviour before he starts complaining someone is playing with his toy...

And if that fails I can always stick some actual pins in a nice little voodoo doll....

Resuming Normal Service

There is nothing like a death in the family to readjust your perspective on life. In the cold harsh light of day we've lost a distant family member. In reality we've lost one of the most important people in our family.

Nothing like a death in the family to bring you all together to mourn and cherish those you have left.

At the same time there is nothing like a death in the family to rip you all apart and realise that those you have left don't know the first thing about you.

All I want to do tonight is sleep. And for the next 5 days to bring my job under control first. After that bring my family under control. Finally bring my issues with Byron under control.

The first one will take a massive will to care again about my job but should otherwise be simple. My family will take every ounce of my emotion and reason to recalibrate. And Byron? Well thats going to take an act of God.

Stages of Grief

The traditional psychological stages of grief are

1) Denial
2) Anger
3) Bargaining
4) Depression
5) Acceptance

Mine and Byron's stages of grief appear to have been

1) Ignoring each other
2) Opening up about how we feel about the past few days
3) Attempt to purchase Byron a secret phone so he can message me
4) flirt outrageously
5) have one tender moment before saying good night

I think I need to see a therapist. Or have sex with Byron once and for all. Something monumental to swing my life one way or the other.

Part of our flirting banter is discussing the sex life we're having with other people. Or rather the sex life I'm having with other people. He currently has no sex life. He assures me of several things - to him I am not special or unique and that he's not jealous of me seeing other men. I rib him that he is more emotionally involved than he'd ever want to admit.

I think this is going to go on a while. There will be a few weeks or months of us both having sex with each other and having sex with other people and then it'll start creeping in. I'll go girly and start getting attached, he'll get blokish and pissed off someone else is playing with his toy.

Then we'll both need a therapist because we will have a relationship born out of twisted grief and fucking around. Sad thing? I'm actually looking forward to all this grief through my current grief. Or I'm trapped in the traditional stage 1 and am just too dumb to know it.

Intense relaxation

Hmmm I feel so good right now. So in-between waiting for Byron to make up his mind whether he stays or goes from my life I joined a website.

No I didn't not join a dating site. I was a bit more brazen and joined one purely for the basis of meeting up for casual sex. I joined about 3 months ago and met up with several guys. Here's a quick re-cap

1) Liar - said he wanted a casual night and had done this loads of time. Actually was just out of a long term relationship and was looking for the next

2) Weird guy - strange highly pitched voice, also a liar about height and other attributes, a night of sex that was sub par but I felt I had a moral obligation to be over enthusiastic for him...

3) Personal trainer - Oh. My. God. basically a sex machine, very cute and could happily bang away for hours. Not mooch for conversation - cute but dumb syndrome

4) Hmm today's guy. This one I think will need a nickname. I think I'll go with Cutie for tonight as I'm too tired to come up with anything else.

I'll say this to everyone who demonises casual sex and would call me a degenerate slut - there is nothing and I mean NOTHING greater for a woman's ego than having a man fawn over her for the afternoon. I got drinks at a wonderful London landmark, massaged, fucked to multiple orgasms, cuddled and told I was beautiful the whole time.

I feel like someone removed every bone in my body right now. It's so damn good. Why why why have I not been doing this for longer?

Radio Silence

No word from Byron... I'm taking it as bad news and trying not to dwell.

I have some serious bad habits - mainly in the past few months I joined a site to encourage meeting for casual sex. Now my sexual history is a bit odd. Compared with national statistics I lost my virginity at a very late age (21) and spent the next three and a half years with that one guy.

Since leaving him last January and this January I've now had sex with 4 other men. And had conversations of a sexual nature with more than I cared to keep count of. This also doesn't include the fooling around with Byron (which before Christmas has taken on a physical side but not to the scale of actually having sex yet).

My best friend believes I am acting out not because I ended my relationship last January but because I have failed to form one with Byron. This linked with the guy who broke my heart at 19 by oddly enough refusing to be the one I lost my virginity too.

See and I thought I was just single and horny. Now I'm having to face a deeper delve into my psyche. Because here's the thing - where Byron is right now he is suffering. And I want to be there with him, for him. Instead there is only silence.

Strengthening Resolutions

So today is the first full day of 2014. A new year. A time for new beginnings. Unfortunately the 1st day of the year has seen Byron behave in the very same way he did for most of 2013 - the moment we make plans to fuck he vanishes from the face of the earth.

At least I'm no longer surprised by this behaviour. I'm still disappointed but its more of a dull ache in the pit of my stomach and a general feeling of resignation rather than a a sharply cutting pain across my chest and a deep sense of humiliation at being sexually rejected yet again. I was never very good at coping with that.

Still tonight is not a night to dwell. Tonight is the night to cement resolutions, a plan for the forthcoming year. So here goes

1) maintain this blog all year - nearly 3 months last year was a good start but not good enough

2) get fit in general - down to a UK size 10 if possible or at least a better toned 12

3) get a new job - the current one is starting to grate on my last good nerve

4) attempt to write a book - I have a longstanding argument with my best friend from childhood that I can't do this, she seems to think otherwise time will tell which one of us is right

5) figure out this situation with Byron once and for all - 1 year of indecision is 1 too many

Overall I don't think it's too bad a plan. Attempting to write a book should be a pleasant distraction on the days Byron says he'll be calling round to fuck my brains out. At this point I'd wager the book is more likely than us ever processing beyond the point that we are. Which is a shame because our friendship has stalled at the moment as neither of us can get past the attraction. But at the same time one of us is repeatedly holding back.

Still gotta keep the chin up and look out brightly across the year ahead. Because one thing I won't do this year is be miserable. I did too much of that last year. This is a year to be happy. Whether Byron figures into happiness or if it's time for him to go the same way as 2013 remains to be seen.

Ghosts in the machines

Urgh really truly awful day. Tonight's post will be short. Major system error crashed the business today. Cue much flapping of arms and jaws until it was fixed.

Reliance on computers is dangerous but inevitable these days. One random string of code is the difference between success and failure. Finding that one string and righting it when it goes wrong is a nightmare. 

Issue like the above are where I take issue with the phrase "needle in a haystack". With the right tools a needle is easy to find in a haystack. Needle is a man made metallic structure completely different to the malleable organic stands of hay. This is looking for a specific needle in a stack of needles. And that's way harder. 

Byron has become a ghost in a machine in his own way. He merely exists this week in the form of past communications. Nothing new. Not allowed to contact him still. 

Our business relies on computers controlling the flow of money around the world. I'm relying on the memory of past messages being enough to bring Byron back to me next week. All down to random strings of code in the end. 

Plan the work, work the plan

So I have 7 more days of enforced non-contact with Byron. The first 5 of 10 days without Work Bitch in the office. Time to get my head in the game. 

I still desperately need to tidy my room, but it simply been too exhausted this weekend. But it has to happen. Getting my room in order will be a major step towards getting the rest of my life in order. 

Work wise I need to plan the removal of responsibilities from Work Bitch. This will be a major step towards massively improving my CV. Because frankly I deserve a better job... And I want a better fucking salary to match. 

And if I can get this done I'll mentally be in a better place overall. I suspect I will need this so I can continue to support Byron. I'm currently seriously torn between hoping he's having a miserable time so he finally leaves an hoping he's having a lovely time and getting the rest he so desperately needs. 

But my life first. God created the world in 6 days and rested on the seventh. Lets see if I can recreate mine and post a nice peaceful post next Sunday awaiting Byron's return. 

Laws of the Robotic

Had another interesting flatmate day today. The idiot bohemian boy had a nosebleed this morning and yet he merrily swanned off to work leaving blood over the floors...

This has to be the most grim flat sharing story of my life. I really feel sorry for my other flat mate who text me this at work as she was cleaning it up. 

I crossed paths with him tonight and asked for his version of events. I got a ridiculous story about it being ok to leave blood on the floors because cleaning it would make him late for work... And he's normally late anyway so he's in trouble as it is with his company. Boo fucking hoo mate. 

I pointed out he was disgusting to leave that as it was. I got told I was a robot with no empathy for his tragic life. This would be a life of raving, occasionally going to work, always forgetting to pay me for bills and now expecting is to clean up his blood?

Of disagreeing with the above makes me a robot fine by mean. Sign me up. Actually could you also book me in for an oil change and have a look at my brakes? Haven't stopped at all this week and need to be in the office tomorrow at 8am? Thanks. 

Reset. Reboot. Restart.

Oh today was weird. After last night's fight it took my and Byron a while to readjust. 

Weird day in general in the office. Filming footage for a corporate promotion film. Grim. One thing today has proved is being on TV is never going to be an option for me. 

A camera right in my face at my desk. While I'm trying to work as if nothing is happening. I dread what my facial expression was. And to think I thought the most awkward thing about my job was trying to discreetly dirty text Byron from my desk...

Commute home was the moment Byron and I dragged ourselves back onto our normal wavelength. Just laughing and joking. Only serious point was me telling him I'm going to pretend last night didn't happen and I expect him to do the same. 

And also that us not being together is the most stupid thing he's ever said. Mostly because this is the 5th time he's said this but always comes back to me. 

Last words were a joke about "getting off together" on the tube. I think in the long run we'll be fine. In the short term however I think I'm still in for a rough ride. 

Excruciating pain...

Awful night. Really bad. Things have been weird this week with Byron, he's barely even looked at me this week let alone spoken. Complete shutdown. 

Lost it with him a bit tonight and the text messages that followed were the most horrifically cold words he's even written to me. 

Culminating in the statement we will never be together. 

Earlier I was upset. Now I'm just fucking angry. I refuse to believe I've imagined the last 10 months of our lives. To be honest if my imagination was that good I wouldn't be working my crappy job. I'd be writing novels and out selling JK Rowling and Helen Fielding combined. 

I'm not going to do anything crazy or stupid. I AM going to tear a strip off him tomorrow. How dare he push me till I snap again. It's a very clear defence - making me seem as crazy as his girlfriend. Gives him all too good an excuse to run and hide. 

Y Plan? It's only makes God laugh...

Der mentsh trakht un Got lakht

Yiddish - man plans. God laughs. 

Funny the things you remember from school days. So while I supposedly planning and waiting for some fictional life with Byron I actually went out and lived for the night. 

The life I've always planned while living in London. Spontaneously going to the theatre and grabbing a late tube home with take out. Fortunately there's an app for that - Y Plan*. Yesterday booked a quick and easy virtual ticket and off I went. I fear this app will put quite a dent in my (limited) disposable income but I sense it will be worth it. Big shout out to these guys - they deserve it. Second shout out for Noodle Stop at Leicester Sq for supplying me with BBQ chicken and rice to sustain me on the way home. 

Granted the play I chose turned out a no holds barred emotional roller coaster with some very disturbing sound effects which left me hanging onto my wine for dear life. But still this is the life I always wanted. 

All that's missing is someone to share it with. Whether that's Byron or not remains to be seen...

*disclaimer I have not been payed to endorse/advertise/wax lyrical about Y Plan. It's my personal experience/opinion of using this app. Nothing more. Nothing less. 

About face

Well the storm hit and rattled me to the core. Idiot French flatmate left his windows open and his bedroom door nearly came of the hinges swinging back and forth... I'm hoping if I keep acting a total bitch towards him he will more out sooner rather than later... Easy enough to do I just keep asking him to pay his share of the bills. 

Byron had a calmer weekend. Too calm. They got along this weekend. So no naughtiness today. True to form this. As soon as we're getting close (and I don't mean the bus shenanigans I mean emotionally close) he magically has a peaceful weekend with her and we take another step back. 

Of course the psyche of the fact they're going away next week has nothing to do with it I'm sure...

I'm getting really frustrated with this. In a benevolent mood I tell myself he's confused, in a very bad situation and (by his own admission last Friday) scared of screwing things up any further. 

But tonight I'm in a mood as black as the clouds that rolled across Great Britain last night. Tonight he has more faces than Janus. Tonight he would deserve me turning up at his place to announce to his girlfriend all that has passed between us in the last 11 months (that's one month less than they've been together). But I know as my friend he would never forgive me for such an act and I couldn't live with that. 

And after all patience is a virtue. Good things come to those who wait. And in all likelihood this weekend has been a mere cessation of hostilities between them, not the end of the war. 

Any port in a storm

Oh I hate Sundays. I really do. 

Firstly I dragged myself into the office (using Byron's key) to clear up some annoying admin work. I did this at the cost of my own admin work at home. 

Admin stuff I really need to do includes 

* tidy room which currently looks like a bomb exploded in H&M

* food shopping for actual ingredients to cook a meal, not buy more ready meals out of exhaustion 

* tidy my room

* archive previous blog posts so they're not lost and general work on blog as well

* seriously need to tidy my room

* tidy computer hard drive

* seriously TIDY MY FUCKING ROOM... Ffs I'm 25 and could currently put the average 15 year old to shame...

So all the above needs doing to get halfway to organising my life. Tomorrow is the start of yet another week of merry-go-rounds with Byron no doubt. Wonder how sorting his life is going. 

Epic storms brewing both indoors and outdoors for both of us no doubt. Still as bad as my room is I still think its a better port of call for Byron than the emotional mess of his home life. 

Question is what will the level of destruction be... And more importantly will enough wreckage survive to build something storm proof afterwards?