Images of Exes Poppin’ In My Head

I’ve made some really great choices in the last year and am sorry for none of them, except giving the Cranky Narc my whole summer but I figured it out eventually.

Sunday morning musings

In this time of quarantining and being by myself so many, many hours I’ve been having these little images of each “ex” pop in my head. I’m not sure you can classify a booty call as an ex but Idk what else to call someone I don’t see anymore. When it happens I just feel all this love for them. Don’t worry. Not enough to go back. I’m only moving forward. But I just send these good vibes out into the universe for them. I really do. I want happiness for all of them, even fucking Prince A who I think knew was gonna get his heart broken by me and cut and ran like a little bitch, LOL.

(BTW I NEVER have it happen for the Hillbilly whom I was married to for over 20 years. He’s a stupid fucker and always will be. I should have left him the very MINUTE I got pregnant with my son and found a great stepdad for those awesome kids of mine so they’d have known what a good father was. Hindsight.)

Here are the images/moments for your viewing and reading pleasure: (To blog noobs the green are links to the story on that date)

The Poet:

#1 As we’re making love I rub my hands on his shaved head feeling the bit of stubble. Then I run my hands down to his shoulders over the muscles that are bulging up, down his arms, back and that poppin’ booty then back up.

#2 The last time he came over, back in February. He got here, a bit of small talk, walked to bedroom then we just stood at the opening of my bedroom and made out for at least five minutes.

#3 Post-coital naked unselfconscious warm talks about life and loves, his and mine. No jealousy or drama whatsoever.

Counteracting images: There are none as we were truly just “friends” for sex.

The DJ:

#1 Those incredible green eyes looking at me while truly listening to me and getting me.

#2 Rolling around on his insanely huge bed.

#3 His gorgeous radio voice commentating sexy times.

#4 Always opening the door and pulling out my chair and making me feel beautiful and special

#5 Sharing exquisite food and wine and conversation

#6 His total confidence and quiet strength when a woman stripped our skin off for talking about the most researched porn topics in a restaurant (it wasn’t even anything nasty- just topics). That gorgeous voice does carry but when he apologized, she kept on, and on and he just held his ground with no anger. I was impressed.

Counteracting images: A friend had watched the Super Bowl with his woman and DJ had mocked him for it saying of course he should watch with friends. The “friends until we aren’t fucking” moment. It felt as if the bro’s would always before any ho, even if she were his main ho.

The Liberal Marine

#1 Touching hands and staring into each other’s eyes waiting for our food at a great local Italian place. Getting it to go because we got heated.

#2 Tracing his patriotic tattoo on his shoulder while on top of him

#3 His words, his poetic romantic sexy texts. My oh my. Miss those.

Counteracting: His huge dog sticking its nose in my bumholio and jumping on me when I arrived. I hate that lol. Lib Marine’s pot-smoking was too much for me.

The Bartender

#1 Taking in all those tattoos. Total eye candy.

#2 His total appreciation of my body during sexy time.

#3 Experiencing the light slaps during sex that I didn’t know I would like (and not sure I would again but I did in that moment with him)

Nothing counteracting- only good thoughts of the one evening I watched him bartend then met him at an art museum the next morning with him and then our sexy time at his place.

Hoppy Sporty Sport:

#1 His voice and laugh. It’s distinctive and was always so beautiful to me. I can see why I fell so hard for him even though we aren’t compatible.

#2 I was deleting videos off my phone to make more room and found one that was hard to delete but had to be done. It was one that hurt. We were in St. Louis and had gotten back to the hotel, drunk and happy. He’d forgotten to bring a belt on the trip so he’s walking down the hotel hallway and his pants keep falling down a little. I’m laughing and filming. He turns and looks behind him then starts pulling his pants down to show his whole ass as he’s walking, pulls them up and then down. I’m just losing it.

Counteracting images of why we broke up: His face showing annoyance at my consistent tendency to analyze things, all things, all the time. His voice tight and turning me down when I got the courage to ask for more sex. Mostly though it was that he couldn’t work through issues. He just wanted everyone to be happy and didn’t know how to talk through stuff. That’s why he said he’d propose when he probably had no intention of doing so. I don’t know. He never said. LOL

Cranky Narcissist:

#1 After we’d make love, he’d look at me with this wonder. He’d be lying there breathing hard. He’d look at me from the side of his eye literally shocked, especially in the beginning. We were both amazed at our reactions to each other in bed. It was always, always off the charts hot.

Counteracting images:

-At happy hour trying to tell him something and he kept interrupting to talk about people’s cars and clothes.

-Him getting onto me for leaving my coffee spoon on the counter and dumb shit like that.

-In the car after a concert. I’m driving (which I hate). He’s pouting and not talking because we left a few minutes early to not be stuck in traffic because my first day of work was the next day.

-4th of July in my parents’ yard: He’s playing goddamn patriotic music on his phone, not a speaker, just his phone. I literally hated this. When I said I hoped he didn’t expect us to put our hands on our hearts, he said just don’t kneel and then my awesome sister ate him for lunch.

Most of my memories of CN are not good. I didn’t pay attention to my wisdom closely at first but he was playing a game of who he was and it took me a bit to see that. I did see finally that he was a controlling typical older white man, no offense to white men but the typical ones are not great.

The Others: I honestly don’t think of the others very much and I’m noticing that some didn’t even make this list. I made myself think of some of the others and here’s the list of an image or moment:

SmartAss Diver: pushing me up against the wall in the stairwell of the dive bar for a hot make-out sesh

Trivia Man: looking out the window of the best loft in the city and then when he got heated and pulled my jaw for a deeper kiss.

Bumble Biker: the moment we walked in and closed the door he pulled my dress up and went to town on me. He’d told me to wear no underwear. I followed directions.

Prince A: high-fiving me for figuring out I’m a slut not a whore. Giving him a BJ around his penis piercing.

Tantric Man: breathing like yoga during slow sex. His hands on me at dinner and smile at seeing me.

The Hot Chef did text a booty call yesterday and I told him I’d cleared the deck for a new man. Last time I saw him was at his place.

Well I hope you enjoyed some of these moments. Even though as I said I have cleared the deck for The Masseuse and although it may seem weird to think of these past men while in a new relationship it’s very very new, barely over a week. I feel I am sort of saying goodbye in my soul to some of these great men, The Poet & The DJ particularly.

Photo by Prateek Katyal on

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