R Hottie = Fuckboy

Ugh… update… if anyone is even still reading this or following me for that matter.

So, for the last month and a half R Hottie and I have been having a “textship” or however the fuck you call it. Which is fine with me, because to be brutally honest, I wasn’t ready for someone like R Hottie and his breadcrumbs were weak. But then he got really interested again. The same kind of attention and 24/7 of it.

FI-nally we meet up yesterday to hang out after a series of trying to see each other but we keep missing each other because of business trips, family events, etc.

Mind you, I have NOT sent him any nudes or anything of the sort. Definitely pics of me looking fine as fuck and classy sweet pics too. He loved them all. He would say things like “I can’t wait to see you.” “Thinking of you.” “You’re a treasure.” “You are gorgeous.” You are beautiful.” “Sexy.”

Anyway, so I come over to his place and I knew that something physical was going to happen. I was so for it. Just two consenting adults that have an attraction towards each other.

R Hottie opens his front door to greet me and let me in and looks … well…. handsome and really sexy. We kissed immediately and just hung out for a bit talking about his trip to NoLa and he noticed I was wearing an outfit that I purposefully did not wear a bra with (or panties for that matter).. and we made it to 3rd base.

Super hot.

Very sexy.

We then left to get some tacos and then came back. We had a nice time just talking about art, families, work, etc. And 3rd base happens again.

We continue to just chill and like an hour later he tells me “You are gonna be upset but I forgot I told my friend I was going to pass by for their improv show.”

Um, yea, annoyed because this is the THIRD date he disrupts. He even told me before we met up that he wanted to take me out and yet doesn’t even invite me to join him to go to the show.

So he walks me to my car, kisses me passionately and tells me he will call me after the show.


No call. And I will certainly not reach out.

It is now day after and still no call or text. No more 24/7 attention.


Any advice?

R Hottie = Fuckboy.

What’s worse is that for just a moment I thought about my ex and got sad-mad at him all over again. I blame him that I am dating again and just got my first fuckboy (when I reallyyyy hoped he wasn’t one). But whatever, HG is still the biggest loser of them all.

Feel me?

Hand in Hand

You are on my noodle, R Hottie. Contact me.

I last heard from you last week Wednesday morning. You liked my art on FB a couple days ago.

Thanks for the bread crumbs, much? You don’t come across to me as the fuckboy type.

According to the advice from platonic male friends, or as Chris Rock would call them “Dicks in glass cases”, you aren’t ready.



Miles Davis

I wonder if you are thinking of me too… that’s the first time I wonder about you today. You went from being thought of all the time to barely there. Progress!

Last night, the song “It Never Entered My Mind” by Miles Davis Quintet was playing on my Spotify. Beautiful song. It moved me. Finally—a song that exactly knows how I feel. A song without lyrics but a song with jazz and trumpet melodies.

Everyone take a listen:


But you know what.. that the beauty of writing on this thing– therapeutic and I am pushing through now, realizing that I no longer miss you.

I refuse to sit on time with this–you don’t deserve it. Thank goodness I am moving on and moving forward.

Amazing how one can meet new and interesting people in such a short amount of time to make one see things in a brighter and exciting perspective aka HOPE

Fuck the rest.

It never entered my mind. Define “it” for yourself.





Hurts me that I have not heard from you, HG. Not even to check in on me. Nada.

I have no idea whats going on in your mind and I am so curious. I am upset that I still miss you. That there is no real closure. I am still hurt and still sad.

I went on a date–and it didn’t go all too well. He wasn’t as sweet as you. I don’t even want to get into details.

I still have feelings for you. The ones with butterflies—but you don’t deserve them.