[Sunday, Feb. 03, 2019 @ 9:58 a.m.]
[ My Rose-Coloured Glasses are Smashed & I Don’t Want Them Anymore ]

For the longest while I thought I had an idea of what love was. After many broken hearts, I knew what love wasn’t. Without finding the right person, I have an idea of what love is but I’m not seeing it. My rose coloured glasses have been smashed and I don’t want another pair.
Having met this one transman, I’ve finally had stimulating conversation about race and gender that made it seem as though it were possible to find a connection. I no longer wish to encounter him again, only because I’ve learned something. I’ve taken away something valuable about what truly turns me on. All this time, I’ve tolerate what others have me, thinking that’s all I needed as a black person, as a woman, as a black woman. People either avoided the subject or antagonized me about it. I was turned off. I wasn’t being picky about partners. It’s like being picky with jobs. You know what you want, what you don’t want, what stimulates and turns you on and what turns you off. I’m not talking about immediate gratification. I’m talking about long term goals. I don’t know if I’ll ever find that, but I’m closer to what I want. When someone tells me what I should tolerate, they aren’t thinking of my best interest. They’re not being a friend to me. They aren’t even being a lover. I think of all the people I’ve dated and now there was no connection, no real bond there. I don’t know if bond is the correct word for it, but sometimes a person will use a sort of lure to get into my pants. I’ve realized that a person either knows I’m not the one or isn’t sure if I am. Either way, they think sex with me is just a time waster. All those sexual romps have only been their time wasters and then I was supposed to be an after thought or a bedpost notch. I wanted something more because I’d never been treated otherwise. If there was a “ ice person”, they they bores me or I just wasn’t attracted to them. I didn’t have casual sex with them. I hate casual sex, by the way.

It’s too bad Diaryland hasn’t evolved like most online sites, but there’s something comforting about it, something that’s old school.

I’m suddenly feeling nauseous.

The Truth Will Atise! - Friday, Jun. 11, 2021

While Soaking in Lavendar... - Saturday, Apr. 06, 2019

He Reminded Me of An Incident Years Ago - Monday, Feb. 04, 2019

My Rose-Coloured Glasses are Smashed & I Don’t Want Them Anymore - Sunday, Feb. 03, 2019

It’s Been Awhile - Saturday, Feb. 02, 2019

[newest] [older entries][profile][design] [diaryland]