"Around here, however, we don't look backwards for very long.
We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things
... and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths."

- Walt Disney

This is going to be a little story about a female that growled at my vagina before ravaging into it for a sweet horrific kill. Leaving my pussy flopping about, confused and shell shocked.  Now some may say I’m bitter concerning this particular subject and honestly they're right. 

Okay, that pictures's a little extreme. (EXTREMELY FUNNY) Seriously, my honey pot hasn’t been the same since this incident. She appears to be too anxious to let someone give her a lick because of the obvious trickery bestowed upon her by that wild beef curtain eater. The experience made her so extremely apprehensive about opening up that I haven’t gotten laid in over a year in a half. I'm still somewhat bitter. 

No longer do my lips resemble a mouth-watering exploding bubble gum bubble but now more so a shotgun blast that has shriveled up and hides in my lower intestines.  (I kid--my vagina's beautiful)

This particular female also ruined our trust in life—by letting her convince us that she was “different.”  She painted a picture of her character that was only an illusion.  Part of me desperately tried (in so many self-destructive ways) to convince myself she was all the wonderful things I believed her to be. And the fake plastic ambitious 'thing' standing in her skin was only an illustration for the rest; not me. Sadly, her true self was stifled and tucked away when she understood her differences and rejected them as she danced on a 2 inch stage while prancing about in her plastic casing. 

Sounds harsh? No, it's not. It’s just the truth. I've found at times people think the truth is too unforgiving and insensitive. Some opt to hide it away along with how they feel. Only telling the ones closest to them small does of the truth—their truth; their perspective and their “big picture.”  It’s what I’ve been doing since this happened and far before it. Why? Well, I grew up in a small dogmatic town that had no tolerance for gays. I’m used to using pronouns and not talking about the female I’m seeing because they don’t want anyone to know they like to fuck women, and worse…they fell in love with one.  So, I’m accustomed to the hush-hush and the keeping of secrets— and I’m tired of it. 

My bitterness is from her knowing I no longer wanted/needed secrecy in my love life. She pursued ME and starting all this with smoke and mirrors to hide her true intentions. She said she wouldn’t be ashamed of being with me; loving me; fucking me; or openingly being my woman. She worked to get my guard down so she could sneak in. She assured me she wouldn’t hurt me or be like the rest. You’re shaking your head right now, aren’t you? Mumbling to yourself, “Oh, girl, we’ve heard it before…” I’m not special over this, because straight, gay, bent, green, yellow, black, white, man and women individuals has had this happen to them. 

After she cleaned out my pipes and came all over my face, she tells me she couldn’t be out because her Zumba instructing career was just starting. She didn't want people to stop coming to her classes if they knew she was with a woman.  Yeah, you can take a break to absorb the hypocritical stink of bullshit.  

P.s. Zumba is gay.

She then went through pain staking distortions to contact everyone I mentioned her name too in order to convince them A) I was crazy. B ) She never was with me. & C) She’s not gay.  

Then, um, why all the trouble to fuck me?

So in one of my alcohol filled moments (I don’t have those anymore) I told one of her closest friends she willingly stuck her finger up my butt when she tickling my girl with her tongue. Now, I didn’t ask her to stick her finger up my butt!  More odd,  I wasn’t expecting to like it as much as I did, either...

What she didn’t realize was a lot of people (in her Zumba classes, too) had their suspicions concerning her sexual orientation before even knowing about me. Reasonable, because the more Zumba she does the more she resembles a man in drag. Seriously. 

Oh, I kid...

But the point is: THEY STILL WENT! THEY DON’T CARE if she was this or that!   

No matter how many men she dates, marries, or proclaims her undying love and attraction for she'll still want a woman. If you’re a women fantasizing about going down on another woman when your man is going down on you then you got some gay in you. It’s okay, you won't go to hell because of it!   I promise.

I kept my mouth shut about my sexual partners in the past out of respect for them, their religion, their marriage, their family, and their reputation, but this one did not ask me to keep her anonymity.  I ask myself: Where was my respect for myself? Why in the hell did I give more regard to their needs than I did to mine? I completely starved myself of any kind mutual respect that comes along with truly loving and being truly loved in return. The more they pulled away the more I gave in to some kind of desperate attempt to relieve the constant reminder of my father’s rejection given to me as a child. 

Freud’s definition of insanity is: 'Doing the same the over and over again and expecting different results'. Could I be chasing rejection in the hopes that one day it’ll give me some kind of acceptance that I never got from my father? Who knows but I drew the last straw with the Zumba Instructor. Her ego just let her assume she could just hurt someone without regard of the consequences; only if it effects her life then her choices matter. Not if they effected or hurt another's. It's apparent because she's acts like she's the martyr and victim when in actuality she was just afraid/ashamed of what people would think of her.  

I’m not something to be ashamed of. I’m not a secret. There’s no need to make excuses about why someone liked or loved me. I’m a human being that doesn’t sit at the back of the bus ANYMORE. I have a right to talk freely about what goes on and happens IN my life without fear of hurting someones career, reputation, or the prospect of getting gay bashed.  Don't do it if you wish no one to know. 

       
On a positive note: I learned from this. I stopped drinking and read a lot of self help books. I wrote a poetry manuscript. Wrote a story, and started this blog in the attempts to move forward and put the painful repercussions of what came after her in the past. She’s apologized in her own selfish, fake, insincere way and I was able to understand she is incapable of anything else. I can’t expect anything more from someone incapable of giving it. It’s just the kind of person she is and I can’t change that. For once I’m not trying to change how someone else feels about me. It’s their feelings and they own them. It can't shape how I feel about  myself. My father included. 

Ah, I knew the moment I finally got to touch her that it wasn’t going to work. I guess I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. What I didn’t do was listen to my instincts. They had been buried under years of my not trusting myself—and people and life around me.  You know that saying, “rejection is God’s protection?’ Well, metaphorically speaking, I was truly saved.

There still is some bitterness and hurt that's transforming into more positive realizations. I still have a total lack of respect for anybody that growls at my pussy like they are some red zone animal hovering over its prey— just to cover their ass and call me crazy. 

At least I admit some of my so-called craziness and fell for her tricks to believe she was real and of mine. (silly faggot). So maybe she needs to be honest about herself. Come clean about being a predator that preys on people for her own self-serving purposes not matter  the people she hurts in the process.  She did give me the blessing of watching out of others like her.

From my truth and perspective she was the smallest thing out of the journey that began subsequent to our encounter. I've learned so much that had nothing to do with her. Irealized you can’t go back into the past to make your present any better. As in the words of Lewis, in one of my favorite Disney movies, Meet the Robinson’s:

Oh yeah, since we're on the subject,  I was just wondering: