We were never gentle, were we? We were fingers in hair and mouth on mouth and “Oh my god, I need to have you right now.”

Hey loves

I'm back.
I kind of brought the scale here, except that its batteries died.
I need to get them changed.
About the last few days and my horrible habits:

Saturday: 2 188 kcal. 67g protein, 185g carbs, 82g fat, 6g fiber
What happened was a lot of liquids. Something like 600ml wine, 6 3in1 nes coffees, 2 cappuchinos, one vanilla frappe and A LOT of cheese.
On a brighter note, I've had an awesome day with JM.
She is lovely.
We have tons of pictures.
I would post one, but I'm getting paranoid about someone finding out about this blog.

Sunday: 977 kcal, 81g protein, 122g carbs, 21g fat, 1g fiber
Home town. Family lunch, lots of bread and chicken breasts.

Monday:  731 kcal, 26g protein, 49g carbs, 49g fat, 0 fiber
One word: peanuts. Point made.

Tuesday:  844 kcal, 33g protein, 128g carbs, 35g fat, 12g fiber
I count this as my first back on track day.
Oranges and egg whites and tomato puree.
It went okay I guess.

Now, the thing that I really want to talk about happened last night.
I slept with M. Again. Twice.
I wanted to cry when I came home.
I need to tell you the story from the beginning so you'd have an idea of why I do what I do.
Prepare for an extremely weird fictionpress kind of story.
I'm warning you though. It's really long.
Ready? Set. Go!

We met in kindergarten.
I was five and he was six, we rode on horses made of sticks.
That's basically the truth of it, even the part about the years.
He's something like 6 months older.
We didn't have that much contact back then.

We met again on a seven day school trip to a mountain in first grade.
We didn't go to the same school but since from we're from the same town, the schools kind of went together.
Flash
And there we were.
Laughing, taking each other's caps off while sledging.

Then in second grade, the same thing happened, except on a different mountain and this time it was spring.
As it happens in romance novels, our teachers knew each other, so all of their kids were put on the same floor.
It turns out that our rooms were next to each other, the only thing separating our beds being a wall.
Flash
M and I knocking on that wall every night until one of us fell asleep.
Flash
Me slamming the door in his face when he brought us snacks from the kitchen.

After that, we didn't see each other until we got into fifth grade.
Basically, the schools all merged and the students got merged in different classes.
We ended up together in one of them, the third.
Until seventh grade nothing happened, it was like we didn't know each other at all.
And then disaster struck somewhere in December.
This is where the real story begins.

We were almost 13. So bra strap pulling and ass slapping was a common thing back then. And then the girls were chasing boys, pretending not to be pleased when the boys chose just them to slap their ass.
I was a bit different.
I was a straight A student, shy but able to slap back really hard once you slapped my ass. One eight grader found that out at the beginning of the year when his head went full circle and back after trying that one on me. Since then, nobody dared to touch me.
One day, we were having math, my little brother was having a language lesson in the classroom next to ours. I didn't really pay that much attention to what was happening around me, because I was listening to a friend's story about her cat.
And then I heard more than felt the slap on my ass. I turned around ready to slap the little bitch who dared into next century. When I turned around, it was too late to stop the motion and my little brother got slapped by me, while M stood behind him grinning.
I saw red. I don't remember much of my screaming at M and turning to my brother and asking if he was okay and apologizing because it was all a big jumble of words that just wouldn't stop coming out of my mouth.
I realized one thing in that moment. I ABSOLUTELY HATED M.

The next thing I know is my brother telling mom, mom telling my homeroom teacher and a big meeting between my mom, M, his mom, our headmaster, deputy headmaster, psychologist, pedagogue, and both homeroom teachers.
Mom told me that M got that bitch slap after all, from his mom no less.
M and I both got grounded.
I hated him even more if that was possible.

Now, from a perfect class in fifth grade, we went to the worst one at midterms in seventh.
So our homeroom teacher decided to do something about that one.
She made us write the name of the person we hated the most and put it into a basket.
It was not very hard for me to decide, but I did wonder if I should write M or K in it. M prevailed.
K was a girl who looked, still looks actually, a lot like me. Curly hair, same smile, same build, only green eyes different from my chocolate brown ones. She basically picked on me for no valid reason that I knew of. I hated her too, as much as a 12 year old was able to hate, which I guess was not much.
Remember that name, it's the reason for me almost crying last night.

Somewhere in the middle of winter break, mom got a phone call from my homeroom teacher.
I didn't know what it was about at the time.
The only words I heard were from my mom's side and they went something like this:
"Sure". "Yes". "No, I don't mind". "I think they like each other anyway". "Okay, bye".
When I asked what it was about she smiled at me almost gleefully and said that I would find out in due time.
My spidey sense should have been tingling and my fight or flight reflex should have shown something on the radar, but no such luck.

When school started, I found out what was that conversation exactly about.
Our teacher changed our sitting schedule.
I ended up in the last desk in the middle row with M.
I laughed so hard at the irony. I should have known.
Although we were forced to sit together, we didn't actually do it.
Each of us sat at the end of their side of the desk with a line drawn on the middle.
We didn't talk to each other, hell, we didn't even look at each other.

One day, we were having a language lesson.
The teacher was this old man who didn't smell very pleasantly, but who adored me because I used to win awards for literary competitions.
Anyway, he came all the way to our desk and started talking about some literary competition.
He had smelly breath, too. I wasn't impressed.
And that's how I found myself between a rock and a hard place.
The rock being the teacher, and the hard place being M (no pun intended).
I decided that M at least didn't stink and I moved my chair inch by gruesome inch toward him, just so I could get as far away as I could from the teacher.
When the teacher turned and left, my side was pressing into M's and I was in the middle of catching a breath when he commented: "You really need a gas mask, eh?"
I laughed. He smiled. Suddenly, I didn't hate him as much.

During our forced companionship, we developed a strange kind of friendship.
We didn't become close friends or anything like it.
He still didn't stop ass slapping the other girls, K being the most common one, but he never did it to me again.
I became something like a panda during that time. Who touched me got beat up in strange and mysterious ways. Emphasis on M in mysterious.
His grades suddenly went up. Teachers nicknamed me "the M whisperer".
In PE, when we played volleyball, we were both in front of the net and he'd always throw the ball over straight on my head and laugh. I acted like I was pissed, but I wasn't, not really.
I kept telling him what I had been telling him from day one. I can't wait to be separated from you. I didn't mean that either.
Mom told me I was in love. I was in denial.

When eight grade started, the strange companionship turned into flirting.
Flash
Him telling me something. Me turning around and almost kissing him. Me changing tactics.
Me turning to the other side, him anticipating the move. Us almost kissing every time that happened.
Flash
Texting each other every day.
Flash
Him asking me out. Me refusing every time, because I believed that he paid that much attention to me because it was about a bet. I was stupid back then.
Flash
Him asking me to prom. Me thinking he was joking and laughing in his face.
Flash
Me telling a friend he had the prettiest eyes in the world. M asking me who I liked, me telling him "you" every single time. Him not believing me, because he had heard the comment and thought it meant something. It didn't.
Flash
Us having a snowball fight. Him trying to pull me into the snow with him and not succeeding. Him pushing me under a tree with a bark full of snow, telling me "I got you now", pulling my cap on, and pulling the branch so an avalanche fell over us. The thing is, he didn't put his cap on, only mine.

I broke my leg during winter break and missed two months of school.
When I came back, K became the new me.
They kissed in school once and my heart broke.
They were going to prom together.
I'm not exaggerating when I say that every single boy in class asked me, I refused everyone but a childhood friend. The irony is, the guy I went to prom with, is now M's best friend.
He still paid attention to me, although it wasn't the same.
Prom came and went and nothing much happened.

Then one day M called. We were supposed to go out along with two friends.
He tried to kiss me. I was angry at him. I refused.
When it was time to go, he asked me if I really didn't want to kiss him.
I told him that of course I did.
Then I went on my tippy toes and kissed his cheek.
I turned around and left.
I regretted that decision for the next four years.

He went to technical high school, I went to grammar school.
We didn't see much of each other for the first two years.
I remember that every time we did meet, it was by accident and it was raining.
It was one of those rainy nights that I saw him and found out he had a new girlfriend. Unlike most of the ones before, this one stuck until now.

Somewhere between our second and third year, our old class met.
I told M that I studied German. He told me "Ich liebe dich". He had a girlfriend so I pretended not to understand.
He told me he wanted to "whisper" something to me. coughkisscough. I told him he can say what he wants and that there's no need to whisper.

During our third year in high school a lot of things happened.
He invited me to his 18th birthday party.
I told my friend from class T. She told me that our other friend V, wants to sleep with him.
T was promiscuous and I was not stupid. She was the one who wanted to sleep with him and I confronted her about it. She asked me if it bothered me. I knew her very well. I knew she'd sleep with him anyway, the only difference being me knowing about it or not. So I told her that she had the green light.

I went to his birthday party. K was there too.He came to talk to me every time she wasn't near the table.
The day after that, his father came to his school. He didn't check his grades, he just came to see my mom.
He told her that he didn't know she worked there or he would've come sooner and apologized.
He told her they could get a coffee sometime and talk about the kids and that he wouldn't mind having me as his daughter in law. My mom laughed.
He turned around and left.

A week after that T slept with M. She told me all the details. I felt as if someone spilt a bucket full of icy cold water over my head. I almost cried.
I asked her why she slept with him.
She told me and I quote "Because he was handsome".
I wanted to slap her then, I really did.
A few days after that they were texting each other. She was being a tease and he sent her a text that I will not forget as long as live start-quote "Do you want me to fuck you or not?" end-quote
I told her to tell him to go fuck himself.
She told him that she wanted him to fuck her.
I was sick, I swear.
I told myself then, that if he ever tries to send me a text like that I'd send him to hell and be pleased about it, but he never did. The worst thing he ever told me was to "Chill out".

The next time we saw each other was at his best friend's birthday party.
He didn't even say hi to me when I came.
He asked me "What are you doing with that whore? She is not a person you should hang out with" referring to T.
I told him "Excuse me for being friends with people you fuck."
And a shouting match ensued.

The next time we saw each other was at my birthday party.
He brought me a bouquet of red roses. It was beautiful.
K celebrated her birthday the same night. We were born like 4 days apart, she even lives close to me.
He brought her a single rose. I was strangely pleased about that.
M came to my party first, then went to hers, then came back.
I was pleased about that too.
What I wasn't pleased about was that on that day, he slept with V.
Apart from being a supposed whore, it seems that T was clairvoyant too.
I really cried when I found out about that one.

Our fourth year of high school came and  went with him wanting to see me or when you translate kiss/make out/have sex. I refused. He had a girlfriend and I was not about to become the other woman.
For me, that was the end of discussion.
We did see each other a few times. He drove me home a few times.
He tried to kiss me. I never allowed it.

That pattern continued until January in our first year of college.
I wished him a happy birthday and asked him if he was okay because I knew his uncle was very ill.
He is an emotional porcupine. I told him that he should talk to someone about it, he told me that he wasn't planning on it.
The day after that day he called to talk. I went. We did talk about his uncle for a long time.
I told him I was there for him.
He mentioned his dog. It turns out that the dog's name is Zeus. I asked what kind of god it was and laughed my ass off. He kept telling me to stop laughing. I couldn't.
He started tickling me. I kept laughing.
Suddenly, his hands were on my waist. I was flushed and out of breath and my laughter just died in my throat.
The next thing I know we were kissing.
Then we were making out.
He quite literally ran away after driving me home.
When I asked him about it, he denied it at first and then he said that it was neither the time nor the place for what he wanted to do to me.

I had a serious case of guilty conscience that lasted for a year and a half.
He had a girlfriend and I made out with him.
I was a whore. I was the worst person on the whole planet. I should just crawl into a hole and die.
He didn't give up.
He kept sending me messages.
He kept asking me to meet with him.
I didn't want to do that.

That lasted until the end of May.
I was in a bad place and I needed something to pick me up.
He was there and he was nice to me.
So I said yes.
That's when we slept together for the first time.
It was great while he was there.
When he went home, I felt dirty.
I found myself scrubbing my body until it went red with scratches and boiling water.
I couldn't wash the dirt off of me.

He didn't call for a month.
He missed my birthday.
The day I finally accepted I was just another one of his one night stands, he called.
The conversation didn't last long.
I pretended nothing was wrong.
We talked a lot since then.
He told me some things that made me think he cared about me.
"If it's about you I'm never tired"
"I have to see you"
"I can't believe that you're not there on the first. I've been telling you for twenty days that I'm coming then"
When he came to our home town, I was leaving for the capital the day after that.
I didn't expect him to call. He did. He wanted to see me. I told him that I was on my period(no sex, sorry) and he still wanted to see me. Something happened in the meantime and he couldn't come. He doesn't lie.

And we are finally at the end of the story.
He invited me to his place. He worked during the day, then he drove for two hours in the worst weather ever and he still wanted to see me. I came.
We had sex two times.
After the first one, we talked a lot.
He talked about K.
How they could never work out in a relationship.
He asked me if I knew what he meant.
I smiled sadly and told him that I did. That it didn't have to be the fault of either party. It just wasn't meant to be.
He told me K was the only girl about which his girlfriend knew he was friends with.
He told me that his father adored K.
He told me that she was at his house just to hang out.
In my mind that was as close as it gets to I love K from his mouth.

We were quiet for a period of time.
He asked me if I thought that the two of us could ever be in a relationship.
My jaw hit the floor.
I told him that I didn't know.
He told me to tell him what I think.
I told him that probably not. Not because of me or him or us, but because I would be constantly wondering if he was cheating or not, and that it didn't really matter if he really did or not.
He didn't look at me when he said that that was what everyone said.
I told him that it was the truth and his fault and that he didn't really expect me to lie.
He told me that he'd know if I'd lied.
I laughed, but it wasn't funny.

He was tired already and it showed. I asked him if he wanted me to leave. He told me that he didn't and that's how the second sex started.
After that I asked him if he thought there were answers to questions that we were better off not knowing.
He told me to ask him what I wanted and he'd see if he'd answer.
I asked him why he posed the relationship question.
At first, he told me he was interested in the answer, then to check a theory and that I confirmed what he'd already thought.

He told me things that I don't think he tells just anyone, I shared stuff about my family and what was the first thing I liked about him (he has dimples).
He fell asleep while waiting for a cab with me. I woke him up with kisses to tell him to lock the door and left.

When I came home I sent him a message:
"Just so you know, if you asked me that a year ago, I'd tell you yes for sure. Good night."
He answered in the morning:
"You forgot the notebook..."
I told him that it wasn't a problem and that I'd pick it up next time.

I wanted to cry because even though we have so much history and from time to time it does seem he genuinely cares about me, it's K who he loves.
And that hurts like hell.

I'm sorry about the lack of pictures.
I'll add them later.
I'm too emotionally drained to do much of anything right now.

Sorry.