28 | April | 2011 | Confessions of a Preacher's Daughter

I want everything. I want a man at home that loves me, who will massage my body when it aches, who will make me laugh and smile, who will turn me on, who will satisfy my sexual desires, who will be kind to me, and who will help me relieve stress, not add to it. Who will be that man? Can any one man be that man?

That is not all I want though. I want to be able to go and do as I please when I please. I want independence. I do not want to have to answer to anyone, check in with anyone, or explain myself to anyone.

I want to be myself, to be creative, to help people, and to do great things with my life. I do not want to look back on my life with regret for not taking chances and not taking advantage of opportunities.

I want to see this fantastic world and all of its people. I do not want to feel caged in and unable to explore.

I want so many things and I will have them.

I want it all.

Fuck you Manwhore. Fuck you and fuck her too. I’m all for forgiveness, as I wrote recently, but motherfucker, you’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever met!

Popping back into my life with one little innocent email asking, “What’s up? Just wondering how you’ve been.” How the hell do you think I’ve been? I had just really started getting over your sorry ass and then after three months you decide you need to “touch base” to see how I’m doing? WTF is that about you selfish womanizing fucked up pig?

That’s what I thought when I got his email that day.

That was 18 days ago.

The Urban Dictionary defines “manwhore” as “the male equivalent of a slut.” For me Manwhore is the male version of myself. He is full of faults, loves sex and the opposite sex, is always unsure of what he wants, and always makes what he sees as the wrong decisions.

Today’s advice: Be careful what you pray for, because the answer just might be “yes.”