losing lust and finding hateMature

the lodgic behind love is lost to most. some can't describe it, some won't describe it and some, some just breathe it

I sit here and I lust over many a guy who either I shouldn't or that I'm not allowed. All three many miles apart and lacking similarity, yet all much the same. They fucked me up. They fucked me over. They fucked me, literally

The first; an ex. First 'love' if at the age of 14 you can call it love, but two years of loving all the same. He wasn't what I class as my type. Very tame and easy but for my age, safe. We both adored each other. Every free moment we spent in an embrace. He had blonde floppy hair, a poor dress sense which he began to grow into in the last few months. He was what those soppy love songs are about. He was mine until some slut whore bitch came along and got her claws into him. Now his not far off bald, dressed like a pretty boy and living off drink.

He is now what I hate to love.

The next; a confessed man whore and like many nieve teenage girls I followed the trail of sweet words that led to the fall. Enjoying the chase and longing to follow. A very 'Aubin and Wills' guy. Long cry from my former boy and an even longer cry from what I would later find as my type. During the 6th month stint we crazed for each other he went on holiday 3 times each time stating empty promises that I would partner him on his next travel. In my heart of hearts I didn't love him, I didn't even like him. But he was my much needed distraction from the heartbreak of real life. He soon grew bored of excuses and moved on the another zillion girls. He is yet to settle.

From him I learnt what I didn't want from a guy.

To follow; a sex pest, music making God. This is your sterotypical love story. Our eyes met and BAM. Only his BAM was short lived and mine still re-lights sometimes. I have tamed my raging lust for him and we are now what we class as 'friends' which roughly translates to 'casual sexers'. This is quite frankly better than any relationship.

And the sad thing. I'm not over any of them. Not a  tiny a bit, not even a millimeter. I have used decoys in many different, shapes, colours and sizes. Yet everything falls back to these three.

And this is why my life is a mess.

The End

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