From one heartbroken girl to another, To Gluteus Maximus, with love B

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amy winehouse - eye see you

I considered calling you recently.

Now I wish I had.

I lost a friend recently….to suicide.

Technically he was a” friend-with-benefits” but the benefits were more than just in the bedroom.

Because somewhere along the way I fell in love with him. as he fell in love with my ass. hence his nickname. #hotASSmess

The best way for me to honor him is to tell you about the man I affectionately called Gluteus Maximus. GM for short.

(Insert a 5 minute pause while I dissolve into tears. and I HATE crying. almost as much as I hate going to the dentist.)

Why am I so upset?

Isn’t the whole point of “friends-with-benefits” NOT to become attached?

Well…there’s a reason why they call it FRIENDS-with-benefits. Because if you’re not friends, then it’s just a booty call. or text. #kidsthesedays  (insert me #smh)

I read once that “if a writer falls in love you, you can never die”. I have spent more time than I care to admit trying to figure out which one of my exes was going to make me infamous. Yes, I recognize how narcissistic this sounds. I’ll own it – I wanted to be someone’s muse or villain – beggars can’t be choosers. #hotmess

But when GM died all I could think about was making sure that he is ALWAYS remembered. Not just by those who knew him – but by those who could relate to his pain, his joy, his hurt, his love, and his struggle.

The good news is that I’m no longer crying. the bad news is that I am now sobbing. I hope my keyboard is waterproof. #fml

I thought about writing a letter to GM’s parents but how the hell was I going to explain our relationship? “Hi, I’m the girl who was shagging your son on a weekly basis for several months. Oh, you didn’t know he was having sex ?!? Oops – my bad…” Yeah that was a no go.

So I decided to do what I do best. write. and apparently cry. and write. and sob. and write. and hurt. #sodramatic

But in all honesty, each time I write a blog post I try to put myself back in that moment – I try to recreate the feelings and emotions that I felt then versus how I feel now. minus the Facebook stalking. and the 3 hour phone calls I spent obsessing over what he was thinking/wanting/feeling/doing/saying – ain’t nobody got time to relive that.

Most of the time reliving my past is actually quite comical and provides me with endless joke material at dinner parties. For instance, “Remember the time I rode the train all the way home only to realize that I had dried jizz on my face? I don’t know if it was a badge of honor or a mark of disgrace…either way I got a free facial out of it.” #winning

But in this case reliving all my memories with GM reminds me of all the epic, sometimes aggravating but always amazing, completely unforgettable moments I had with him. and the fact that I don’t get to have any more. and thinking about that breaks my heart. literally.

Because “when a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.” and they can never forget you. they forgot to add that part.

So let’s begin – we’ll see how far we can get before I can’t see past my tears or I need a new box of Kleenex.

➤ ➣ ➢                    ➤ ➣ ➢                    ➤ ➣ ➢

“I’m not wearing any underwear.”

That was the first text GM ever sent me. Now that’s a way to start a conversation with a girl. especially when she didn’t give you her phone number in the first place. Usually I would be offended – but to be honest I was mostly intrigued. His text was suggestive, yet innocently worded. A combo that is rare these days. Most of the time it’s “My dick’s hard. You should cum over.” SO clever. I’ve never hear that one – said no girl. #ever

The irony of all this is that a few years prior I had hit on GM at my friend Mo Deezy‘s engagement party. and by hit on him I mean held him up against the wall and proceeded to try to win him over with my charm and tequila breath. At the time he had just started “talking” to girl. and although he was under no obligation to remain faithful and was “very interested” in my not so subtle offer of God-only-knows-what, he declined my offer. #wtf

As aggressive and laissez-faire as I am (that’s just the fancy French way of saying I.D.G.A.F.) I have self control. Ok, not much, but enough to know when it’s time to back off. So I did. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being slightly embarrassed. I just got r-e-j-e-c-t-e-d, politely and with cause, but nonetheless –  REJECTED. Luckily I had my back up date – Mr. Patron – to keep me warm that night.

Fast forward 3 years later….

Mo Deezy and her husband were moving into their “dream” house. and my suburban “nightmare”. but like the good single friend who has no boyfriend, husband, or kids I volunteered to help her move. I swear people think being single is code for I’m twiddling my thumbs until Prince Charming shows up on his stallion. with wine. gotta have wine. He may be Prince Charming but first dates/blind dates are awkward as hell. Well apparently I am not the only “single” friend Mo Deezy knows. Is there some minimum requirement of having two? is it so you can always say, “I have another single friend who you’d love….” I’m just saying being single isn’t the worst the worst thing in the world – I could be married to you. #boom #greatcomeback #ohsnap

When I showed up at Mo Deezy’s I was greeted by her, her husband and GM. In her defense she did warn me that he was coming and she also informed me that he had seemed “excited” at the prospect of my company. For what reason was absolutely beyond my comprehension. He rejected me. three years ago. I mean I know I don’t let go easily but 3 years is usually long enough to get over something or someone. especially if you’ve only met once.

Now I believe there are two ways of handling a situation like this – you either get “dolled up” to show your ex-crush/boyfriend/#fillintheblank what they’re missing or say f*cks it, I.D.G.A.F. – I chose the latter. I showed up in my gym clothes – to be fair I dress like this on a regular basis but I do try to look “decent” around everyday Muggles who have not been officially introduced to my comfort-over-cute style.

I’ll admit although I had adopted my “I.D.G.A.F.” attitude – I was still a little nervous. Would things be awkward or uncomfortable? Would he remember my #hotmess from 3 years ago? Turns out not only did he remember it but he now wanted to take me up on my offer 3 YEARS later. These days I am not often surprised by the male species, but I was sincerely shocked by GM. It was now his turn to “hit on” me. and boyyyyy did he try. and as flattered as I was I have a general rule about not hooking up with my family/friend’s friends. because after its all over and done you gotta see them again. and again. and again. #nobueno (See this “How to have dinner with your ex-boyfriend…” as proof.)

So after a full day of moving, we all went to our respective homes.

And that was it…

…or so I thought. Until I got a text from an unknown number later that night….


End of Part I. of I don’t know how many. but I need a break. and a tissue. and some therapy. #retailtherapy


My John HanCOCK



P.S. GM, I miss you. and my ass says Hiiii!

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