I won't be the first to admit that I've made my fair share of mistakes. Ask any of my friends, I am, for lack of a better phrase, fucked up. I have a fucked up relationship, I make fucked up choices, and I consistently fuck myself over.
Fuck.
After reading one of my best friends blog, it makes sense for me to start one. What better idea is there other than to type out all my random thoughts that I keep inside me or only spill to my closest friends? *ahem* I'm sure the guy who inspired me to write this blog is sick of hearing all about my relationship and sex life.
I don't even know where to start. The beginning is always the answer, and for me, the beginning starts about a year ago. Up until last March I was in a very happy relationship. Let's call this guy "J1" Trust me, there's plenty of J's in my life and he is the first. J1 and I started dating in August, right before sophomore year of college. Life was great, I was finally over my first ex, happy as can be. Our relationship was thriving until...he asked me to sleep with his friend (who we'll call J2). J1 has been bothering me about this for months but, like a good girlfriend, I ignored it and tried the best I could without actually cheating on him.
Fast forward to March 2012. I'm on the train coming home from spring break (the best spring break ever, I might add) During that week I attended the America East Basketball Tournament and watched my beloved Catamounts fight their way to victory and get a bid for March Madness. I also spent most of the week in Florida visiting my bestestestetst friend who had moved away in high school. Life. Was. Good. So now I was tan, happy, and feverishly emailing all my professors explaining that I was going to March Madness and missing a week of school (spoiler, we lost in the 2nd round). Then, I got the text that has continued to change my life (and not for the better). I can't remember the exact wording but it had to do with me sleeping with J2.
J2 is an attractive guy and it's hard not to want to sleep with him. However, by now, I was sick of being bothered to sleep with this guy and I figured the only way to get him to stop was to do it. And I did.
I know, I cheated on my boyfriend. I am a terrible girlfriend, I know. Any normal person would think I would feel guilty about the whole thing, and I do. But I loved it. It was different, it was fun, it was just what I needed. Besides, I was leaving the next day for Ohio for a week, I didn't need to feel the repercussions.
But I did. J2 constantly texted me and it felt good to be wanted. I started to developing a thing for this guy that I had hooked up with once and was constantly learning how much we had in common. Our love for the Patriots, Bruins, college basketball. It was great! I would get drunk every night with my closest friends, play my instrument on national TV, and go back to the hotel to flirt with J2 and fight with J1. It was towards the end of that week that I considered leaving J1 in hopes of being with J2.
No luck.
I stayed with J1, cut my ties (for the time being) with J2 and moved on to the first repair stage of my relationship.
Fuck.
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