future media darling (sobota) wrote,
future media darling

sometimes a cigar is just a cigar or lost the plot

My most darling Carol,

So last week, I went out to party with all my friends, and met a fucking beautiful guy who was there with his friends. I ended up spending time with this beautiful guy, and in a moment of beautiful weakness, I invited him to my place. Neither of us drink alcohol (he's a former alcoholic, I’m a Muslim) so we were completely sober, which is even weirder.

We ended up having sex. Almost the entire night. I haven't had sex since last January, but it was almost like it was completely natural and wonderful and the guy wasn't particularly gentle, but he held onto me and kissed me and was into me the entire night. The best part was we spent most of the night cracking jokes and just, you know, being together. We talked about music and our lives and it wasn't like any other one night stand I’ve had (except the one where I lost my virginity, but that dude and I are still friends, so it colours my vision a little).

I woke up pre-dawn to eat breakfast before the sun came up and Ramadan started. He stayed with me for about three hours and I made him breakfast. Just an omelette (which will forever be code for 'blowjob' thanks to this bloke, seriously, it was that kind of night) and tea, but he was appreciative and I was boggled.

This guy was beautiful. I am not at all beautiful. In fact, I’m fat and ugly and sort of a pain. The whole night practically, from when I joined his friends up until he left, it was like we were the only two humans in the entire world. He looked me in the eyes, he held my hand in the taxi back to the flat, and basically made me feel like a damn goddess.

It hurts because this has to be a one night stand. We’re both leaving on Wednesday. We didn't trade numbers; we didn't even say "see you later" or ANYTHING. It was just a perfect confluence of events that will never happen again.

I don't even feel guilty. I feel like I’m a lucky poker chip or a rabbit's foot or the best damn fortune outta a fortune cookie, the one with all the right numbers. It was beautiful and it happened and somehow, when I read this entry again I will only think of how he joked about strippers and omelettes and the Beatles and how desired I felt when he flirted with me.

I can't even believe this guy is real, but somehow, he is, and I am going to smile all day today.

Yours, xx

N.B.: My brain is hard-wired for perfection. I’m self-conscious about everything that is wrong with me, and there is plenty. I’m scared to talk on the phone because I can't see the other person's face, I don't know their reaction. I have to correct every spelling/grammar mistake in my head, I think about what I’m going to say before I say it, and sometimes if I don't know what to say, I just don't say it.

But everything about me is wrong and bad. I have terrible hair and terrible skin and I’m too short and too fat, and my nose is too big and my hands too manly. I stand in front of a mirror and slowly pick myself apart, and it keeps me from smiling.

There are two reasons I miss that one night stand, and here they are:
1. He made me laugh and smile, even with all my teeth.
2. I felt beautiful under his hands.

I feel stupid and a little desperate, and a little lonely. I feel like I should have done more, like get his number or make him stay a little longer.

Once again, one more thing I’m wrong about. xx
Tags: lj idol

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