Its Not Cheating, It’s Just Sex

Do you trust your significant other? Do you trust yourself? When does the term cheating start to apply to you? Maybe if you’re seductively looking at someone else who is not your partner? Is it talking to someone who is not your wife or husband through text messages and phone calls while you start to catch feelings? Or are you the type of person who doesn’t consider cheating until it’s something sexual? Perhaps you have the mentality that it’s not even cheating if there’s no romantic feelings involved, it’s just sex.

Last year I met a guy. Young, about the same age as me. We had a lot in common. I was in this religion that dictated every single aspect of your life just as he was. Your sexuality included. I was confused ever since I was little about it. But it seemed to me that he had more of a grip of who he was.

He married a woman. I was amazed I had come across someone who felt like me. I asked him how he did it. He said he loved her. He said he loved being with her. Then I asked him, then why are you on this app?

Are people just that unfaithful now? Do they have no standards? Is that the new norm?

I asked him if he made a mistake. He said no. Then why do you look outside for more when you have what you need at home?

I wrote about him on my blog a year ago. He didn’t tell me he was married until long into our conversations. When I found out I felt sick to my stomach. He was a murderer, and I was an accomplice. An accomplice that didn’t even know what was happening.

I understand more about people’s sexualities now that I’m coming to terms with mine. But if you like men and woman. By all means do what you must. But if you marry one or the other, respect them. They deserve it. If you’re going to do stuff behind their back, leave. They deserve someone who will love them unconditionally and faithfully. Not you.

He messaged me a week ago. He told me that his wife was going to be out of town for a week and he’d really love if I’d go over and ‘hang out’. Right away I told him no. I had this sort of anger towards him now. I told him I got back together with my girlfriend. Not to mention he’s fucking married, which is why I stopped talking to him in the first place.

I told him I didn’t know how he does it. I could never. He asked me “what?”, as if he didn’t understand.

“Be a cheater,” I told him.

His words were, “I’m not cheating, it’s just sex.”

I ended the conversation with, “that’s not what your wife would think if she knew.”

I may lie sometimes, I may be moody, I may even do things that are questionable, but I’m not gonna cheat. I have a big heart full of loyalty, and I’ll be cocky about it, ask my friends and family. You’ll never find someone more loyal then I.

What is cheating for me?

Cheating is when you take away time from the person you are in a relationship with, and you give it to someone else. Weather it being through messages, phone calls, in person, or even sex. Your significant other should come before your friends, doesn’t mean you love them any less.

Don’t cheat. Don’t.

Maybe This Could Work

It’s been a wild couple of days. From losing my job to getting back together with my ex, all the way to getting called by an old married “friend”, only to have a fling.

I know. Hang in there. There’s more.

I hope now that I have more time on my hands I can manage a way to write more, like I used to. Of course back then I had a lot to write about. Now as days go by, things happen, I sit here and think to myself, should I even write about this? To me some of the things are irrelevant. Or maybe I just don’t want to talk about them. Who knows?

Nonetheless, last Thursday was my last day at work. Everyone who was leaving that day was excited out of their mind. Well, more like just out of their mind, to be more accurate. We all just wanted to leave. Get our money and get out.

Which is what happened. We went in, signed some papers, release forms and some legal documents, and then we hit the door like the building was catching on fire.

Most of the coworkers leaving that day decided to go out to eat. I’m not a big fan of them, or Big social gatherings in general, so I dipped. Instead I went with another close coworker to a Casino. She won a couple 20’s. Then she bought me lunch.

I really need to work on my spending, but I’ll put a pin in that thought for now.

Then came the weekend. The Jehovah witness had their convention. If you don’t know what that is, it’s basically a gathering of many many JW congregations in an auditorium where they sit through almost 7 hours of bible topic talks with a lunch break in the middle. I know it sounds insane, but it’s really not that bad.

I had promised my mom and girlfriend I’d go a couple weeks ago. I told them also that just because I was attending did not mean I was reinstating myself back into the religion.

I wanted to see old friends. I wanted to be there for my mom and my girlfriend as well. I did it for them. I’ll admit it. The days went by really fast. I even saw some people that I was friends with since my childhood.

It was mostly about love. Actually, entirely about love. How to show your love for others and ect ect. They’re trying their best to understand why I’m not going. That’s their way of “showing love”. I respect that.

Saturday I went to dinner with my girlfriends family and other family/friends. It was awkward. He just got baptized that day. (Which means, when you have basic knowledge of the Bible principles and rules you can get baptized into the religion if you’re going to now live your life based on said rules and principles). I hadn’t seen him for months ever since I left the religion. He pulled me to the side and asked if I was ok. I told him I was doing great. It was awkward, and really a waste of my time. He said to take care and be strong. Hypocrite. 20 minutes later as I sat next to his daughter, my girlfriend, he texts her to get up and sit somewhere that is not next to me. But she doesn’t. And the night goes on.

I have an issue with this. Sorry to get all religious here but this is where my brain clashes with the religion. They say all choices they make come from god or whatever, and that every action that the Elders of the congregation do is approved by the Holy Spirit. So in other words, (just to get this correct,) the Holy Spirit approved this man to be baptized? God allowed this man to become part of His congregation, His “holy organization”? My understanding is that when you get baptized, you are leaving behind your old ways. You’re not perfect no, but you live your life the best possible way or closest you can according to the Bible principals. But here is this man, who is violent in nature, hits and verbally abuses women, his own family, and has an ego so big, I find it hard to comprehend, gets approved to be a son of God?

I spoke to my mom about this. She didn’t think it was right either. But she said we can’t question gods plan. It’s happening for a reason.

Heres my other dilemma. (Because I have many). Why does it always have to be God’s plan when we can’t understand something ? If it’s going great “praise the lord!! It’s all the lord!!” But when things in this religion aren’t going right, something feels off, “it’s gods plan. We can’t see it now, but he’s doing everything for a reason. Don’t question it!” What type of bullshit is that?

I’ll stop here because I don’t want to get into it that much again.

These past couple of weeks. Maybe about more than a month now. All the time I’ve been spending with my girlfriend. All the texts, the phone conversations, eating out, having her body so close to mine. Sometimes I don’t want to let go. I don’t want her father to ruin it for us. I don’t want the religion to either.

They have this dumb rule. When there is a female and a male present, there should be a third party so there is no sin committed. I hate that rule. I need privacy. I want to spend some time alone with her . Doesn’t mean we’re going to go out and have sex everywhere and anywhere. There’s a little no huge thing called consent that plays a big role in this.

The religion was a huge part of my life. I’m not an activist. I’m not going to go around saying, “don’t do it, don’t be in there.” That’s not my job. If that’s what you want to do that’s cool. Just make sure it’s what you actually want to do. And you’re doing it because you want to, not because you’re being told to.

I told my girlfriend that the other day. She said she had a lot of respect for me. She said she’d also respect my decision in not going back.

Maybe this could work.

Maybe.

I Am A Fox

The Fox.

I have a weird obsession with this animal. Any and everyone who is close to me knows how much I love the Fox. Most of them believe that I like this animal simply because it is orange. And to some extent, that does have something to do with it. But it is not the main reason. Let me tell you in depth why I am so drawn to the Fox.

Like I said it did have something to do with the color orange. (It is my favorite color by the way). How did that become so? It started when I was little. I clearly remember back in school when I was just a tiny little nerd. Maybe in kindergarten or even in the first grade. Your favorite color was like your identity. What defined you was; your name, your favorite color, and some random hobby. Different from today (your job, your car, your house. Kid times were the best times).

I remember, boys liked blue, girls liked pink, and there was always that one weirdo that liked black, (no offense to my emo friends). But mainly the blue and pink group were the biggest groups. Even as a little kid I didn’t want to be placed in a group. (Choosing to be part of some thing is different then being placed in it).  I wanted to be different. I wanted to stand out. Why did I have to be just like everyone else? Then I met Orange.

The color Orange is a color that pierces through your eyes without asking for permission.  It’s strong and bright, it screams courage. It’s always alert, but never afraid.

I liked that. Always alert, but never afraid. The more shades of orange I found the more I began to like it. There was a shade of orange for all my feelings, mix it with red or yellow and you get an even better different forms of orange. I was not like the boys who liked blue, nor was I like the girls who liked pink. I liked Orange. (Maybe I was the weirdo?).

During elementary school one of my cousins used to baby sit me. She was one of those cool teenage girls that had straight A’s but yet hung out with all the cool kids at school, and made them look good. I know, the early 2000’s were something else. She gave me this huge book about animals. A through Z. It had the picture of the animals at the top, and right below it, it had all these fun facts and information about that animal.

The book was amazing. The pictures were great. I remember that I would flip through that book so much that it started to wear out. I came across the tiger. Orange stripes. Cool enough. Orange nonetheless. I learned a lot about tigers at an early age. In the fourth grade that was the only thing I would talk about. Tigers. I even did a report on them in my first year of middle school.

There was something off about the tiger. I liked it yes, but some times I just didn’t connect to it.  Then in middle school I went above and beyond what Nature classified animals as and I tried to relate to them on a human level. (I know, humans, always looking for more than what there already is).

The tiger is said to be one of the most powerful wild cats in the jungle. They didn’t give it the tittle King of the Jungle for any small reason. I already knew that this animal had great strength. The tiger itself represents strength, power, and bravery.

Have you heard of the saying, “never wake up a sleeping tiger”? Well, there is a reason. I think you can imagine.

I lost interest of this creature once I started to notice its monstrous ways. The eyes of a tiger alone can make its prey run up a tree. Did I really want to relate to an animal like that? I know many MANLY BROS would be like, “hell yeah bro, tiger all the way bro, bravery this bro, strong that bro, courage blah blah bro bro bro.” But like, why?

We have all been tigers in our lives here and there. That doesn’t mean we had to stay there. There are many Chinese and Japanese stories about how the human needs the spirit of the tiger at times in life just to survive. I love reading those stories. But that’s why the tiger was not the animal for me.

Then I found the Fox.

Of course I had known some of the fox characteristics before from the book that I was given. But nothing in great detail. Then my great venture began. I hit gold! There were many species of foxes out there. Just like tigers, not all of then came in orange. The red fox (even though its orange as hell in my opinion) is my favorite. The arctic fox comes in a close second, because it reminds me of innocence.

What is it about the Fox that drew my attention? The fox in the wild can not rely on its strength or even its ferociousness, because it doesn’t have any. To many, a fox can seem week, even pathetic, helpless animal. It’s prey doesn’t consist of large animals. It mainly hunts birds, rabbits, and eats any small fish, crabs, some fruits and some vegetables.

This animal, even though it seems harmless is great at avoiding getting hunted. The fox has to manage its way around predators like the wolf, bobcats, and other animals depending where the fox is located geographically. As if it isn’t enough it also has to be on the look out for human hunters.

It has to outwit these predators to stay alive. That’s what I like about the fox. So why did I find and interest in an animal that seems like it is at the bottom of the animal kingdom pyramid? In the native american culture the fox is one of the highest respected animals. It is known for being smart and devious. (It has to be, I mean its going up against these savage killers with powerful strength). It’s also know for knowing the right path to take when everyone else is lost and can’t find direction.

In my life, I’ve had many types of predators. Wolfs, bobcats, hunters, so to speak. I have not won any battle by the strength of my fists like a tiger would have. My battles, fights, and obstacles have been outwitted by the mere capacity of my brain.

In this world of Tigers, Wolfs, Bobcats, and Hunters.

I am a FOX.

A Better Beginning

A week from today I will be unemployed.

I’m excited. I know someone who’s losing a job usually freaks out, but ever since I knew it was coming I really sat down to think about it.

Maybe I’m in a state of shock? Who knows. I feel fine. I feel good. If my job was a place I would enjoy going to then maybe I’d be more preoccupied in not leaving or getting laid off.

This week my employer notified the unemployment offices about the mass lay off. They came in and had some few presentations that were very helpful.

At the end of the day, with all this new information, and from what I had previously wanted and thought about, I came to a conclusion. Going back to school.

I’ll have an income, thanks to the unemployment. It won’t be much but I’ll manage. And there are many forms of help I can receive for schooling. Not sure what I want to do at the moment, but I do know that this is the time I can do it.

I can’t waste my time sitting at home or jumping right into the next job. This is a great opportunity. That’s why I’m not scared. That’s why I don’t mourn this loss. Because it isn’t one. It’s an ending yes. But an ending that leads to another beginning. A better beginning.

Talking To Myself

I had a long talk with myself the other day. I was in the state of mind where I was lingering, waiting for life to show me the correct way I should be going towards. Usually, with time things come around and you find out what you need to be doing, or changing.

This wasn’t working this time. Time was passing. Days were flying by. Nothing was happening. So I sat. Turned off my music, and I listened to myself for the first time in a long while.

What do I want? Well, I want to be happy. Ever since I have left my ex religion I have a sense of feeling free. I feel liberated. Light. I’m scared to jump, maybe I’ll float away in the clouds. But all in a good way.

How can I be happy? Doing what I want, as long as no one else is harmed of course. I’m not saying setting fire to homes and breaking into banks. I mean going out with friends, having a good time, getting to do things I was once told I couldn’t do, because it would hurt Them, and of course Him.

Who makes you happy? I am the only one that can make myself happy. Sure, I feel happy when I’m surrounded by people I love and want to be with. But happiness has to come from me. If not, I’d be sad and depressed when I’d be left alone, and that’s not what I want either.

Do I want to get back together with my ex? Yes.

Am I bisexual? Pan sexual? Heteroromatic? I have no clue. I know I want to be with my ex. Emotionally, physically, and even if it sounds shallow, yes sexually. Do I still find men attractive? Yes. A friend told me the other day. A straight man, will be straight. Marry a woman. But that does not mean he will not find other woman attractive. That doesn’t mean he’s cheating on his wife either. It just means he’s human.

Can I date my ex, even when she is still in that religion? Yikes. This was a hard one. I thought about this one. But I left it up to her. I told her what follows; They will tell you not to date me. They will tell you I’m under Satans control and that I am a bad influence. If you continue they’ll talk behind your back, they’ll whisper. They won’t trust you. They might even take some church privileges away. If you want to date me, go ahead. But, I don’t go to church, I don’t see them outside of church, I’m never around them. But you are. You’re the one that has to deal with them. And I will not live like them anymore. I have my own rules, my freedom. If that’s what you want, it’s your choice.

She said she didn’t care. The last thing I want to do is hurt her. But I miss her.

What’s next? Unemployment. School. I want to go back and learn something, anything really. I will look at my options and figure something out.

As a side note. Everything’s been settle. I know it’s the calm before the storm but I’m not worried for some reason. I’m ready to take on what ever is next. For now I’m good. Good where I stand.

Playing With Fire

It’s been a couple of wild weeks. I haven’t had anytime to sit down and notice where I am. I’ve been running and running down a path that I didn’t notice all the signs I was passing.

I am happy. Happy sounds too good to be true. I am content. No, I am ok. Yeah that feels more right. If I were to be content I’d have all of my debts paid. If I were to be happy then I’d be sippin something sweet at a beach with more than 10 digits in my bank account.

But nonetheless, I am here and I am ok.

For now.

See what I did there.

I’ve been texting my ex on and off. I’m trying to get my feelings together before I make any brash decisions. I like her. I like her a lot. I don’t like the religion she is a part of, and that I once was. But I like her. She makes me feel something, something inside of me. In my stomach, then my heart.

I know I like her and want to be with her because there is no validation that I need from anyone any more. From who? Church friends? Nope, they don’t talk to me. Other church goers? Nope, I haven’t seen them in months. My mom? She actually doesn’t want to get involved in this. And my non religious friends? Well, some wouldn’t care. Some would. But it’s my decision. I always end up doing what I want anyways.

Today she texted me saying that she had to say something that she’s been holding back.

After I was done reading what she had wrote I was on the verge of tears. God. What have I done? What did I do? Did I make such an impact on this one person to want me this bad she is willing to to leave everything behind just for me?

What do I do?

I have to be careful.

I’m now playing with Fire.

Like Old Times

Don’t you hate it when you make up your mind on something, you are (or you think you are) sure about the way you feel, and then something happens and then bam! You’re like, oh, ok. I didn’t know that was lodged up in there like that, thanks heart. Next thing you know you’re flooded with all these emotions all these feelings you thought you were over with. But they’re there, they’re real.


I saw my ex girlfriend today. I texted her on Wednesday that I needed to see her. I’m not really sure what came over me that I needed to speak to her. I needed to tell her what was going on. I needed her to move on from what ever it is she was still feeling for me. Just like I thought I had.

When I saw her today. When I saw her walk in through the door. I couldn’t help but smile. I couldn’t help but think of all the good times we had together. I couldn’t help but think of how she smelled, how she laughed, how she felt when she wrapped her arms around me.

She is beautiful. Like a warm and calming sunset.

She sat down. I immediately wanted to hold her hands like old times. It was like an instinct. I had to stop myself.

She smiled back at me like nothing ever happened. As if I hadn’t broken her heart. As if I was still her hero. As if she didn’t cry every night because we weren’t together.

We talked. Almost for two hours. It felt like 20 minutes. I told her how I felt. I told her I didn’t think this religion was for me. I told her why. I told her everything except about my sexuality.

I held that in. Like the dirty clothes you hide away from visitors. How can I tell her something I don’t even know myself? I told her I was very confused. I told her I didn’t know who I was supposed to be.

I have millions of people telling me to be someone and other millions telling me to be someone else. I can’t even hear my thoughts.

She said she understood what I was trying to say. She said it was ok for me to feel that way. My feelings are valid. I can feel this way.

I missed her. I really missed her.

The way her curly hair fell effortlessly on her shoulders. The way she smiled at my lame dad jokes. The way her eyes stood on mine when we talked.

We hugged when we left. It was a hug that we both needed.

I don’t know what I want. I don’t know who I am anymore. What I am. I am trying to be the happiest I can be. But this shit it hard.

We said we would keep in touch. I like that. I don’t want her out of my life.

I want to be with her.

There.

I said it.

It’s My Fault She Was Hit

My life is like a really bad written soap opera. Who ever is writing the script needs to do a rewrite, because I’m honestly tired. And it’s getting too out of hand.

I was at work when my mom texted me saying that my ex’s mom wanted to talk to her in person. It was rather strange for me. Immediately all the thoughts flooded to my head, did she find out? Did she see something online about me? Did she see me celebrate my birthday?

When you don’t know the facts the mind can be one of the most creative places ever to exist. That’s where my mind went to. My deepest fears.

She then asked if we could talk when I got home. I messaged her yes while I was shaking my head no. Was I about to come out? I prepped myself. What was I going to say? How was I going to tell my side of the story? How was I going to explain it?

I got home and things were more quiet than usual. As if someone sound proofed the rest of the world from our home.

She was ready at the kitchen table. Calm. Gathered. I sat on the other side. She had been crying. I could tell by the way her eyes look. Tired, concerned, and irritated.

What came out of her mouth next was not what I had rehearsed on the drive home.

My ex’s father had hit my ex. Across the face. Bloody nose and everything.

I felt cold. I felt terror. I felt like I should have been the one to take the blow. I deserved it anyway. I put her in the line of Fire. I used her as a road block, as a speed bump, something to help me run and hide from who I really am.

I asked her why. What happened? I could barley manage the words out of my mouth. It was dry. I needed water. I felt faint. I almost threw up.

She told me that she’s been sad ever since our break up. She’d been depressed. She’s been missing.. me. She’s been angry, furious. Why? At who? Her father. Because I put that in her head. Because I told her things weren’t going to work out because her father was too over protective. Because he would never let her spend time with me. Because he would never let me go over. Because he would never let me see her. Because he ruined our relationship.

It’s my fault she was hit.

It’s my fault she took too much and finally screamed her guts out to her abusive father.

It was my fault he didn’t take it well. I turned her against him. I did.

It’s my fault.

I feel like all this time I’ve been carrying gallons of gasoline, but it’s been leaking for the longest time and everything behind me is now catching fire.

When will the fire catch up to me?