d0gm0m420 - Tumblr blog

d0gm0m420 · 2 years ago

Text

Something Better.

I don't think there's a goal in life precisely and that we're all just meant to interact and affect. Cause and effect. Earth was the cause. We are the effect and we've affected everything.

I think humans make all this shit up because we can and because the very nature of life is evolution and I think that's a part of the whole thing; of life.

But I think the stuff is good.

The stuff that we make, I mean. Most of it.

But it's all meant to lead to something else. Something better. Right? Allegedly.

What the fuck else has this all been for if it's not for things to be better?

Something has to give.

Everything is for something to be better. Right?

We've affected things so much that now people think Earth is dying.

I don't think so.

I'd love to not think so because I'd love to not think about a lot of things.

I think Earth is regenerative and that every solar system is a system of beings that have figured out their ultimate purpose. I think life is about roaming the earth constantly and looking for things that make sense in a way that nothing ever has and that a star is a family of beings interconnected by strings of light.

Or something like that. I figured it all out a year ago on Shrooms.

But I didn't come here to talk about that. What I'm trying to say is this:

Maybe Ariana Grande did hook up with those guys while they were in relationships.

Alright.

Fine.

Could be.

But--and just humor me for a second-- imagine a world in which men lie, to themselves and even others. As another exercise, I want you to imagine a man in a relationship lying about the status of his relationship in order to hook up with someone who is actually, literally Ariana Grande.

I'll set the scene:

Ethan Slater, at one of their little rendezvous spots, or whatever, tells Ariana that his wife cheated on him years back and that this cheating now, the one between her and him, was justified because he never "got her back." He hadn't retaliated in any way. So, if they began a secret relationship it wouldn't be that big of a deal because she, his wife, had already fucked him over earlier in their relationship.

He said he had "paid his dues" to her. Whatever that meant. It was sort of shit logic --but let's imagine Ariana was a teenage girl with low self-esteem but somehow also a superiority complex. And let's say Ethan is also now a teenager for this new scenario because the point of this allegory isn't about an age gap.

Ethan and his wife never even spoke about her little faux pas after it happened. He just disappeared altogether from her life for a few weeks and then came back like nothing had happened.

You know, like how healthy couples do.

But something had happened.

With Ethan's best friend at her parent's lake house one spring break. Their whole class was there because they went to a small enough school for everyone to know each other. Everyone was drunk and scattered throughout his girlfriend's parent's lake house and he walked into one of the rooms looking for her--only to find her making out with his best friend on one of the beds.

Then let's say, imagining still, Ethan didn't want to say much more about it to Ariana after that.

Let's say, he "didn't want to talk about it anymore" to her. Ariana could see the discomfort in his body language and in his tone. Ariana didn't want to press it further, either, because she wasn't even sure this was a pandora's box she wanted to open quite yet and, also, because she didn't want to ruin the limited time they had together with turmoil over looming consequences of their wrongdoings.

From then, though, Ariana theorized about why Ethan hadn't ended things with his wife then. Had he felt indebted to her for all she had given him? He never said.

But maybe his wife had bought him such nice things before he had his own money. When they were still just teenagers. Maybe she had her family fly him out from Texas to Florida just so she could see him in the summer because he was away for a month seeing friends and family in Texas. She and her family were staying in a gorgeous beach house down in Florida for the time.

No one had ever done something like that for him. What do you think that means to someone who knew a life of almost exclusively the hand-me-downs of his older brother? His mom was a teacher and his dad constructed sets for shows. They didn’t exactly have money just laying around with 2 other kids. This girl was nice enough and offering to pay for his things. Her parents even gave him money for car payments.

He had it good with her.

She even bought him a phone on Christmas the very year he had caught her making out with his best friend at the lake house.

Was she so generous or had she been trying to make it up to him?

Now we’ve reached the point in which I fear I must confess something to you, reader. This story isn't about Ariana. It never was. This is clickbait in essay form and I tricked you into reading about a relationship of mine that ended years ago and that I decided to write about now because I hope it'll help me uncover the root of something in my psyche. Ariana Grande and Ethan Slater were merely the barbies I held up to play out my life in detail to see if I can see something clearer.

What precisely? My psyche, or something. I don’t know. I’m always looking for something and I think I should be doing more doing rather than looking.

I'm sorry I lied to you, dear reader.

But you made it this far.

So, here’s this:

I think my ex felt inadequate next to his then-girlfriend and felt sorry for existing and stayed with her because it was a smart idea.

They went to a private academy that taught K-12 in the center of Atlanta. The classes were small. Hence, why everyone knew each other.

His mom had been teaching there for years in the science department. Faculty kids attended for free which meant that he and his brothers could enjoy the benefits of attending a college-prep academy without their parents having to be a celebrity or some kind of business owner.

There was no way they could have afforded it otherwise.

No, not for this.

This was a K-12 school that required admission and tuition. They were intentional about who they let in and they fucking love rich people. The kids who attended here had parents with Fuck You money and they almost all certainly lived in homes with stone and marble everywhere. In homes that were tall and lean. Cold and quiet.

My ex had lived on the same property for all of his life. He was almost embarrassed by it. He'd come to hate it over time, he told me before. But I always liked how it looked like a treehouse.

It was a little smelly because they had 5 dogs. All with some type of ailment. The odd tumor. One had dementia.

Somehow, too, their house was always a little under construction.

I think he just shrugged me off after I told him I really enjoyed his home.

I don't think he really trusted anything anyone said.

His family had the home on a few acres about 30 minutes from where I lived with my parents before I moved out for college.

He also had a big pond behind his house. The dog with dementia would end up committing suicide in that pond sometime later during one of my stays.

His family's home was creaky and tall and entirely made of wood. There wasn't a coat of paint on any of it and it was entirely decorated by picture frames. Every inch. There was a light layer of dust and dog hair on everything and I wouldn't have had it any other way. I loved seeing the important moments of their family line displayed on every wall.

He was my first love, I guess. He was terribly depressed and found living to be impossible. I think I'd been wanting to play cheerleader for all of my life and he was looking for anything that would make him feel better. Even if it meant cheating on the person he had been with for almost 3 years. The same one who had bought him all those nice things I mentioned before.

I don't think he was a bad person. He felt bad about lying to her. He drove an hour away every weekend to see her and I'm sure it added up over time in his head that he was holding something back. They could never be drunk together anymore because he was afraid he'd say something to her about me. He'd clumsily take out his phone to a message from me and she'd see over his shoulder and expose him to everyone either of them ever knew.

I hadn't thought about what he was risking. Cheating isn't easy.

I imagine.

How rude of me to not have empathized then with the boy who told me one night--nearly black-out drunk-- that he loved his girlfriend but that there was something about me.

Oh no.

It was 3am and I was on FaceTime with him while he was at a "boy's night". He had snuck away to one of the thousand rooms in his friend's house and drunkenly went on about how beautiful he thought I was.

I was entirely sober and almost impressed by the fact that he had so much experience with alcohol already at 18.

I thought he was cute and boyishly charming.

Dear reader, if it's any consolation, I tried ending it a few times. The last time, maybe the 4th time, I told him I didn't respect myself anymore. We would agree to be friends but I loved seeing the way he folded for me after every end. In the grand scheme of things, I know it's not the worst thing in the world. But, of course, I feel guilty. I'd sincerely try to move on but I only knew the realms of my job at Papa John's and high school. My dating pool was small. Even smaller when you're specific.

I never dated anyone from my high school. Which is a flex, until I tell you I dated two people from the Papa John's instead. Whatever, they were cute and it was the summer.

I'm guilty. I knew it wasn't good. I was 17. I knew better.

Dear reader, I'm not the type of person that thinks stealing boyfriend's is cool. I never have been! Don't accuse me of that! How could you say that to me? You don't even know me!

You have to believe me when I say I'm the type of person that demands devotion and won't ask for it. I crave to know and be known and unknown. I'm the type of person that begs you to notice me in silence. I'll do my hair up real nice. I want to be fucking perfect for you. I don't want you to think there has ever been anything wrong with me. I have been exactly what you've been waiting for. I am the place you take your burdens off at. I will be the one to save you and fix everything. I have been the woman you've always been waiting for. I want to get you in ways no one ever has and love you in a way you've never seen. I want to be something that you hold close to your chest. Something you do for yourself. I'll be your secret if it means I'm the place you want to disappear in.

I am an escape room.

My captions on Instagram are a riddle for you to solve and I fucking hope that you'll guess the name of my blog to find out how I really feel about you.

That's everything I am.

But I enjoy being pursued by attractive people and I wasn't exactly getting pursued by anyone anywhere else, so sue me for liking being pursued by a reasonably charismatic guy from another school with beautiful blonde hair.

I remember once me and that ex were on the phone while he was with friends in a common area away at college and they started talking about bisexual girls. Someone had asked him, "Isn't your girlfriend bisexual?". Because she was and he said yes and then some of them made comments about that being hot. I think someone asked if they did threesomes.

You know, like it was appropriate to ask in the first place.

I hung up pretty shortly after that because he was just sitting the phone in his lap for the rest of the time. I think he winced down at me quickly as a sort of apology, though.

He ended up texting me a paragraph sometime later and reassured me in a nice enough way that made me want to resume my position as his mistress.

But I was embarrassed.

I couldn't do it anymore. I sent him a big text about how ridiculous I found it for him to continue being with his girlfriend even though he almost certainly resented her. He said it was so complex or whatever and I was already halfway out. I went to school the next day and broke things down so much in my head that I got excited about the idea of actually just moving the hell on. I sent him that big text as a sort of gunshot warning. A preamble of sorts before I told him I wished him the best. Picking a fight before you set the house on fire type of thing.

I know he just added our little affair to the list of reasons for why he wasn't good enough to have good things happen to him. It was another reason for why his life was shitty and he was shitty because of it.

Nothing could ever go his way.

He ended up finally breaking up with his girlfriend after we had snuck around behind her back for almost 4 months. We never had sex in that time. It was the one boundary I set. Because I have morals, obviously.

But, dear reader, I will let you know now that I did, as luck would have it, let him eat me out in his car one night during the summer before I sucked him off. We were both soaked in sweat after because it was an especially humid night and he had turned the car off.

I was 17 and sneaking out of my parent's house to make out with a guy that had a girlfriend, a huge nose, and the most beautiful bone structure I'd ever seen.

It was late --past midnight when my parents would be asleep--and he had parked his car a few houses down from mine. The house he ended up parking in front of was a house that was under construction. So, no one would be coming in or out at that time.

After their breakup, I told him I would still be there for him because we had become true friends and because I sincerely felt bad. I didn't think it would be an easy breakup for him. It was such a big part of his life during one of the most critical points of being alive.

I think we were both hoping that the spark between us, the one that had compelled us to do what we did, was based on something real.

I knew I could probably do better. I had gotten so excited that one day where I was ready to end things for good because of the prospect that I could do better.

But it was too late.

You see reader, I had already become so endeared by him And, as luck would have it, I am in fact a pisces moon :(!!!! :'(((

So.

It was a tough situation.

i was just a little fucking guy!!!! r u mad at me ?????????pls respondplsrespondplsprespondplsrespond

No.

But I did think he was better than me because he was older. I liked that he was white and lean with a striking face.

I liked the way he wanted me when he had a girlfriend. He pursued me even though he knew it was fucked up, but things were already so fucked up in his head for him that I'm sure he thought it wouldn't make a difference.

He didn't believe in a heaven or hell. I guess I didn't either.

I was hoping it was true love. I believed in that. I still do.

His girlfriend lived an hour away and she weighed on me like a cold.

After their breakup, we still spoke but he was in and out for about a week. He said he just needed some time. I understood. I told him I understood so much that if he wanted to hook up with other girls before me and he officially started going out, I would be fine.

He had just gotten to college and I was sure there were going to be plenty of beautiful girls on campus that would catch his attention. I was insecure, but I wanted to show him I was cool. I would make for a good girlfriend.

0 notes