Gezocht: Wintermattie

Iedereen in Nederland is er bekend mee; het koude, IJSkoude weer wat we te verduren krijgen. Okee, het zijn geen horror winters a la Noorwegen of Siberië, maar koud is het wel. Niet erg prettig voor alle singles out there die voor het slapen gaan helemaal alleen hun bed moeten verwarmen zonder lekker, warm, naakt lichaam tegen je aangedrukt. Niet gevreesd! Daar bestaat een medicijn tegen, een enige echte WINTERMATTIE. Geen “aah mattie aah ga ga, gooi je kontje”-gedoe, maar gewoon iemand om je tijdens de koudere maanden warm te houden. Het allermooiste hiervan is dat je diegene maar een paar maanden hoef te verduren, bevalt het; dan is het leuk meegenomen, ook al weet je dat je tijdens de zomerperiode weer liever single bent.

Het fenomeen ‘Wintermattie’ bestaat al veel langer, maar nooit is er echt een begrip/term aan de situatie gekoppeld. Iemand om je warm te houden tijdens de wintermaanden, iemand om warme chocomel mee te drinken en slagroom vanaf te likken. Hij hoeft niet eens superslim te zijn; een “ik ga voor de 5,5”-weet geen zinnig woord uit te brengen-ball is life(of andere sport)-mentaliteit volstaat hier al voor. Een lekker lichaam en positieve instelling zijn al genoeg; het is namelijk niet zo dat je met deze persoon zal gaan trouwen. Iemand om tijdens de regenachtige en besneeuwde dagen lekker terug getrokken mee  in bed te liggen om alles te doen waarvan God weet dat je het doet maar men zegt dat het fout is. Zondige zondagen vallen in de wintermaanden ook doordeweeks.

Nu de kou over ons kikkerlandje trekt en ik mij in een waar koufront bevind, begin óók ik de behoefte te ontwikkelen voor een zogenoemde ‘Wintermattie₁’.

₁

Einde bericht.

FoI; Free of Infatuation

Free from the chains of my infatuation

The shackles let loose from my heart’s separation

How it was it will never be again

The day has come to be my own best friend

The touch of him needed to break free

Long lost memories of who I used to be

Starting over, resuming life as it was

Not to cry anymore about a possible love lost

Time to go out and get back in the game

Put my heart in a casket while I scream out his name.

Steps to get or not get (I’m not sure which one it is yet) over your ex(-boyfriend)

1. The first thing you should do is cry. Cry a lot, because you know you want to.

2. Remove all pictures of him/the two of you from your house, this prevents the unnecessary recollection of memories. Unless you already did this a week before due to the fact he was acting like a gay jack-off.

3. Eat! You need to eat before the next step, I forgot to do this step. No bueno.

4. DRINK. Drink, but not alone. Don’t almost drink an entire bottle of Black Label by yourself, and continue with caipirinha at a party where it is possible that you will encounter an ex-boyfriend/fling/fuckbuddy/whatever and finally pass the fuck out without you remembering anything the next morning.

5. Do not overanalyze the situation. It will just make you feel more fucked up and you will start thinking/seeing things that aren’t there.

6. After this; GET MAD. You deserve this. Get mad at him/her for totally fucking up your spirit.

7. Shop. Shopping is THE magic cure, -no matter how temporary of a cure- for heartache.

8. Drink one/two glasses of red wine each day and eat some chocolate with it (read: a bottle a day is a no-no)

9. Stalk or don’t stalk your ex. Whatever you want. However, I highly advise that you don’t.

10. Go out and have FUN! F-U-N! Put on your best outfits and live again. Do  the things you couldn’t do while in the relationship (in my case excessive alcohol-use). Hang out with your friends, but please do try not to be influenced too much; you still are a fragile, temporary alcoholic with a broken heart and shattered self-esteem.

11. Change your appearance, don’t change yourself. There must have been something during your relationship that you wanted to change about your appearance, whether it is your haircut, clothing-style, ink or piercings. My case: an extra piercing in my ear (he called it tacky, I say everything can be tacky in the wrong situation) and blonde dipdye (he prefers brown hair) and I look stunning if I might say so myself!

12. Take on a hobby, course or whatever. Drivers-lessons, a new job, playing a musical instrument, write or whatever; anything to put the pieces of your broken heart into something positive.

13. Fuck or don’t fuck someone else. Only fuck someone if A. you are positive that the feelings for your ex are gone or will not make you fall into tears when heaving fucked someone else, and B. make sure that you fuck that person for SEX, not for hugs, kisses (passionate sexy time kisses are allowed) and movies and C. dear God C: make sure that the person you fuck is better than your ex! Nothing is worse than cheating/rebounding with a guy that’s worse than your boyfriend/ex. You will miss him afterwards. Me, I am still considering A.

14. Then, be happy, enjoy life and forget about the motherfucker. If he thinks you’re not worthy of his time, he certainly isn’t worth yours.

15. (Optional) Slash his tires or key his car. (I am still contemplating on this one).

Expressions of Anger presents: Horror Nights

Halloween is peeking around the corner, but in stead of fearing creepy crawlers,-or better said- creeps and crawlers, I am having certain horror nights of my own. Days and nights without sex are undescribably horrific. I can't sleep, I am losing my focus and my grip on reality and I wake up in the middle of the night with hands in places without me realizing it!

Two months since the relationship between me and my horrific -"I have to shave even though I can't grow a full beard, leaving you with your shit and shit we both did, fading hairline, brother of, balls loving"-ex came to a well deserved end after eleven months of pure joy and happiness with additional stress, trauma and lack of relationships of the flesh. Probably the biggest reason why I am still living the celibate life after one and a half month..the lack of dick: the longest period without dick since I was 16.

Maybe he planned it like this; "imma be nice to you bitch and not let you go cold turkey"... He is such a sweetypie.

In the mean time my fears are becoming a reality; I don't know how to flirt anymore, I keep thinking about my -"stop drinking, don't talk about doodoo, don't listen to what my family says about my ex, you're friends are sluts, is it 9? I thought you said 7"-ex and my va-jay-jay keeps making a wet, squshy sound, forcing me to wear panty hoses (not tights, that doesn't sound sexy) so that you/I hear/notice it less.

In other words; I'm screwed without the pure luck and joy of actually being screwed. Well, at least I'm not being screwed over (counting blessings instead of adding up failures).

I mean I'm not the easiest woman to live with: I bitch, nag, feel horny all the time, talk loud, can be extremely obnoxious, poop and fart, love attention and I am a sucker for surprises (unless it is dumping me). So I am totally different from ALL other female specimens. And this is why I am not getting any. Not getting any. Any at all. At all...

Maybe I should think of this as revitalising the bond between God and me. *meditates*

Bitch please, I have my flaws, but I do deserve some. This officially is the first guy ever I broke up with and haven't had sex with afterwards (not my choice but okay, uhm..he was very, VERY young anyway).

I have had 'relationships' before, officially four, of which one doesn't count for the sexual part seeing as during the relationship we never had sex. He could have been the first but ended up as nummer five (don't know how I managed that but an applause is in order); and thereby it was a complete waste of minutes. The actual first one dumped me after three months because he was fucking his best friend (read; the Chinese whore). The second; biggest mistake ever was leaving (even though he cheated and I cheated; cheating is something you wouldn't want the other person to do as well). The third; biggest mistake was starting, but damn he sure could finish (older guy, you know the drill)giant sack of manipulative pig shit. The fourth recently decided that he likes balls more than he likes vagina. …In between I had some fucked up situations.

So let's take a look at the current score;

- Sexual and serious relationships, 3.
- One time only curiosity, 1.
- Fun situation, 1.
- Crappy situation, 1.
- Fun situation turning into crappy situation, 1.
- Meaningless, killing time situation, 1.&
- Mister Right, 0. (even though I had put all faith in the last boyfriend)

Meaning a grande total of 9 (read; nine). Almost hitting those double digits and I am wondering if I get a bonus when I hit it... Maybe a magic beautiful golden dick will appear and sweep me off my feet..wasting no time and no boner, while carefully yet determined penetrating me while we reach the climax.

Ha! One can only dream.. But for now I will be okay living the celibate life, redefining my life's purpose, finding myself, getting out of a crappy personal situation and being motherf*cking LEGEN-wait for it-.....................DARY!

Double digits: BEWARE! I'm almost there *sings*

Why people laugh when hurt..

I remember when  I was younger, my bunny Likkie passed away after he had escaped from his cage which my dad made from an old kitchen (it was a giant bunny) and was attacked by a cat. I cried because I knew he was gone, and it hurted. The next day when I went to (elementary) school and told the children in my class that my bunny died, I smiled and laughed. I did not see the problem, even if they were staring at me with big bugeyes. A few months later the bunny of a friend of mine passed away as well; we cried. Then we went off to inform her older sister that their beloved bunny died. It didn’t really go as intended; while telling her that her bunny died, we started smiling…laughing even! The sister got so pissed, cried and asked why we were laughing. We didn’t know, we answered her with: “we already cried, do we have to cry again?”

A few years ago someone I loved dearly like a second mother passed away. She had left three great, fantastic children behind. The youngest one was about three at the time. A few days after she had passed, the grief was still overwhelming, and nobody stopped crying. Except for the youngest son, -ofcourse he had his moments and was deeply hurt-, but he said something that I will never forget. “Waarom huilen jullie nog? Mama is nu toch bij de sterren? ” meaning “Why are you still crying? Mommy is with the stars now right?”

My breath choked. Was he right? Could he be right?

Today I told some girlfriends of mine about a weird girl who got pregnant and ‘had to get rid of it’, I unintended laughed real hard; but inside I could die. But I had already cried so much about my grief, that my mind and heart slipped into self-defense without me wanting or asking for it. It is unbelievable how the human body and mind works.

What is that thing that we lose or gain throughout the years which makes us grief and mourn longer? Is it a self-defense mechanism of the body and mind to protect children from emotions they cannot yet handle? Or is it that throughout the years we go through such an enormous emotional growth that we enable ourselves to feel more? For better or worse? For those worth it, and those not worthy of it.

I finally started smiling after crying for weeks. Now I know; I will be just fine.

"All the crying. All the phone calls. All the hate. Do not flatter yourself by thinking all the tears were for you. You giant sack of heartless shit."

C.S.

Yet again, I am at a crossroads. I need to change my habits, and quick! Or actually one habit: drinking. Ever since my ex-boyfriend got rid of me in not the best way ever, and finding out some personal things, I have been reaching for bottles almost on a daily base. At first I thought I was okay, until it hit me: I’m not okay. I. AM. NOT. OKAY. Sure…drinking made me forget my ex at first, after that..I just got all emotional crying out how much I missed him, calling his phone day and night, writing about how we used to love. “Used to”, because he don’t love me no more. “Used to”, because an unanswered love, isn’t really love. I haven’t had a drink since Friday night and I’m okay. I’m not good, I’m not great, I’m okay and it’s great that I’m fine with being okay. Wounds don’t heel overnight. Unless you’re Neo. Or a Tibetan monk. Or have a time chamber. Or if you are a wizard......anyhow: you get the point.

I needed for something to happen, something HAD to happen; I needed a hero. And that hero reached out to me today. It was love at first sight, as if he had never left my side. No, I’m not talking about God in case you’re wondering. I also realized that I need to be and stay positive. Sure, I do not really have an internship. Sure, I’m still heartbroken. Sure, physically it’s not all well. Sure, I’m broke as fuck. Sure, I have issues at home. And I haven’t had sex in a month. But hey; I’m still here. I have friends that will do anything to distract me and make me feel good and on top. I finally started with driving lessons (which might be a negative thing for all people living in Rotterdam). I have a great brother en a great sister-in-law on whom’s door I can always knock (if they don’t answer, I don’t open the door, that’s a rule though). I look great and recently bought three pairs of shoes and a dress for 33 euros! I finally have my iPhone, seeing as I always used my ex’s iPhone to use wonderful apps like 9gag and Scoupy. Now I Scoupy alone. The first Scoupy I used alone was for sushi, it was a sad but needed moment.

But back to my hero. He might not be tall, dark and handsome (a euphemism for a tall, handsome, darkHAIRED guy for those whom are unaware of this), but he sure does make me think, and feel. I missed that. I missed the feeling of being able to be me. It hurts, but it finally hit me. Life. Goes. On. With or without that certain person you care deeply about (and secretly want to kill), the world keeps moving. “Creeps in this pretty pace, from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time”. My hero is back, and I love him for that.

Thank you my dear and beloved C.S. Good to be back.










sensus. communis.