Let Down

Ok so I’ve been in a funk. I’m low. I’m trying to sort it out. Obviously I’m not in love with Young Buck. Our relationship consisted of 1 kiss, 4 weeks of texting, 1 phone call,  3 orgasms and some missing clothing. I didn’t want anything more than that. 

But now my phone is quiet. The 1000+ messages exchanged between us have come to a screeching halt. I’m loath to admit it, but I miss it. The control is out of my hands now. I had something exciting and physical, and it was prematurely confiscated.  The 2-year-old in me is throwing a tantrum about her candy being taken away.

Maybe I was trying to play God, and it never occurred to me that there was another person who had a life of their own. He wasn’t just there to be my sex slave.

Continue reading “Let Down”



  • Went to happy hour and ate Carribean Jerk pizza with kiddo and grandma after work Friday.
  • Met up with friends for a microbrew benefit later that night.
  • Lost shirt at Young Buck’s Friday night (yeah, I was that girl).
  • Made Sangria Saturday morning.
  • Finally removed studded snow tires Saturday afternoon.
  • Got sunburned (damn Colorado).
  • Went to a birthday party, fell into a ditch, skinned knees and elbows Saturday night.
  • Fell asleep in front of a bonfire in wee hours of Sunday morning.
  • Woke up to frost on my sleeping bag (damn Colorado).
  • Couldn’t escape hippie nature and discovered shoes were missing Sunday morning.
  • De-funkified self on Sunday afternoon.
  • Made more Sangria.
  • Sat on porch gossiping with the girls until 7:30 pm. Vowed to go to bed by 9 pm. 
  • Watched slutty Dane Cook’s Isolated Incident on Comedy Central till midnight while texting Young Buck.
  • Realized I didn’t spend one night in my house all weekend.

So apparently having a 21-year-old FWB, makes me revert to 21-year-old behavior. Now I’m sitting in my cubicle, band-aids on my elbows, sunburn on my back, daughter in daycare. I feel like I was a werewolf for 48 hours, and now I’m back to my normal life.

Only with a dirty little secret.

The Phone

Young Buck finally cajoled me into calling him. I was getting pretty frustrated with my POS keyboard, and I’m afraid I’m going to get a $200 phone bill next month from over-texting, so I broke down and talked to him in person.

Ironing out the details of a FWB relationship is a little uh…awkward.  I guess I never thought about having a FWB in the first place, so it never occurred to me that I would need to lay the ground rules. Amazingly, I think we’re finally on the same page. We did have a little debate about us possibly having a future and me insisting that wasn’t going to happen, and if he had any of those thoughts, then we couldn’t do this.

So, yeah. Its official. I have a boy toy. A hook-up. A boy on the side. We’ve agreed to be each other’s booty call but we can still take out other people on dates and otherwise live our respective lives. However, as soon as we want to get physical with another person, the deal ends.

Sounds reasonable enough to me. How about you? Should I add anymore rules?

P.S. My dad only uses the Internet every alternate Wednesday, but God I hope he doesn’t stumble upon this post. My sister doesn’t care to read my blog. My mom started for a while and then stopped, due to the stress it caused her.

Though I can’t say I’m not looking forward to this. I think I deserve it.