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(Addressing: What are the origins of my need to seek out unavailable people, and/or, provoke them to make themselves unavailable to me? I had a tiny epiphany when I compared it to my school performance the other day.)

Le Vixen, may have been an alcoholic, but it doesn't take away from all the flaws I brought to the relationship. I guess I need to think a bit about it because I seem to be torturing myself worse by avoiding it.
I was very, very attracted to her. Very. I was utterly in love with her. Still, I had so many issues with intimacy. It was more than the typical self esteem worries that everyone has. I had those preoccupations too, but they were stacked on top of a discrepancy that I still cannot accurately theorize. I constructed some pretty quaking, seductive inventions about the wild vixen; She loved to hear all about them in vivid detail. It thrilled me to recount them to her, but for some reason, when it came to bringing those visions to fruition, there was a major disconnection for me. I understand, the authentic will never wield fibers: enchanted as the imagination; I still expect though, that it's common to enjoy reality at all? I felt so bad, because I knew it wasn't all her fault. Every time I closed my eyes, I had flashbacks of things that invaded all instances of my tranquility. I didn't know how to fix it, and before I could begin to address it, she would be so offended, or angry. The well goes dry as quick as the flip of a switch. I had a menagerie of emotions ranging, neopolitan internal fervor. I was attracted to her, and still aroused. Couldn't help but let my body betray me. May then rewind; If we didn't have such an immense communication canyon growing so rapidly between us, I would have produced the tube of lube I kept with me>_<. She had her own tube too.
...[I had a dilemma regarding her tube; With whom else was it used? She made no secret of her promiscuity. Even when we broke up from March 9th, to April 9th, she confessed to having more than one other (can't bear to call them, her 'lovers'). I didn't want any more details. "Yes", and, "More than one", are specific enough, I could already tell it wasn't going somewhere i liked, and I couldn't do anything about it; No reason to know more, shit. I wish I could un-know shit.]
...I didn't know if my struggle was confidence, orientation, violation, prudeness? So many possibilities, and combinations. It could've been everything, or, Something I didn't even think of. I still don't sufficiently know. I know I love masturbating, and I'm good at it too, LOL. I fabricate the greatest ever, erotic illusions. The fact that I can physically live the plot of my imagination- To a point where I honestly would have to open my eyes to distinguish whether or not it's happening. Not only that, but I am attracted to myself. That's a really neat thing about being into your own gender. As long as I've got confidence, I've got a juicy piece of ass just under my hands at all times. Maybe that's all I need.
[Again: IF we had decent communication, we could have gone to fkn walgreens and bought a brand new fkn lube tube. Idiots! In truth, the problem moved beyond simple tubes of lube, I knew. ]

*Mischievous linguist-nerd, sinister tongue twister smile* (Something about this should be lighthearted)

Another situation, which was her deficit, relating to the alcoholism: Her never-ending, unsatisfiable libido. Gah. That really wasn't my fault, and I dam-well know it. I ought to anyway. It added to the mystery of my initial issue though, because it was a toss up on who stimulated the incident, or which episode insinuated what. Circumstance certainly didn't clarify the case.

'Fantasy', implies ones own agenda on the matter of satisfaction, it's true; But, it's a good thing, within reason. It helps a person conceptualize their desires. Still, it should be important to them, that their partner enjoy the experience. If they don't, what does that say about the first person?

So, here I am; Feeling guilty for being foiled by flashbacks, and this condition: provoked by her contentment's blatant disregard for mine. Further misaligned by my lack of experience, and magnified by my emphasis on importance of her pleasure in our moments.

Many of my friends told me this wasn't how love should be. I believed them, but couldn't shake the weight of the entire blame. I really do, deep down, still think the defect was completely me. In my mind, I was the only variable. She'd been married before (It isn't like she's the epitome of perfection. I probably should not embark on a romantic affair with someone who has been divorced, too volatile; Don't want to stereotype though). Of course, she knew what she was doing. This was really my first relationship.
There was before, Strawberry shortcake, and, Rumpelstiltskin reverseD. I never had sex with Shortcake, and never felt attracted to Rumpelstiltskin reverseD; I was only flattered by him. I just lost 70lbs when I met him. He was the first person to make a fuss about how beautiful I was; Am. I really didn't know if this would ever happen again. How could I? It had never happen before. I had to be certain that he wasn't going to be my, "One who got away".
He wasn't.

Maybe it all started with Le Potatobloke. He knew exactly who he was; A transgendered (female to male) male. However, when I met, and developed attraction toward him, I couldn't be convinced over what gender, the parts of him were, that caught my allure. I remember crying when Myra explained to me, that it offended him to be referred to as female in any way. I wasn't really sad about that. It was in fact, my awareness of the magnitude for which my confusion began to absolutely consume me. Before this revelation, I could have easily have discerned myself; A lesbian.

I mostly get turned on by ventures that aren't gender exclusive. I have never enjoyed sex with a partner. Something always gets in my way, and I have developed a fierce trepidation concerning countless aspects of sexuality.

Since I have rarely not enjoyed my own erotic musings; I do understand my inclination to ensure that my sexuality remains an inward phantasm. The only thing about this that still confuses me is, why, at this point in my life, do I still not trust myself to keep my own distance? Why do I force it on myself? I have tasted bitter regret, but I learned and grew from it!?

I guess I know why.

I'm apprehensive of the same love I innately crave. I can't stifle my desire. I can totally smother a person's appeal toward me though. I can set my sights on someone who stays many miles away; Using the distance between us as my cocoon, from which I honestly hope to bloom. I think that, just learning about my own feelings concerning these objects of my fondness, I can discover my heart's predilections.
Nice, really, nice one, Sss... Le Hiding Tighty Heidi.

*Seismic sigh of relief*

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