Orientation is not a trend.
I wasn't going to write this, because I know I'm putting myself in a position to lose friends; then I said "fuck it," anybody who thinks I have no right to be hurt and calling it out probably wasn't my friend to begin with.
You, unnamed person, told me last July that you were bisexual; your exact words, in fact, were "You're a lesbian?" and, in response to my "yes," a chuckle and the words "I like both." You kissed me, made me feel sexy and special and, over the next few months, wanted. You promised to come back for me.
During those months, I asked only one request: I once thought I was dating a woman who told me, only hours before we met in person, that she would like her boyfriend--who I knew nothing about--to come with us on our trip. Please tell me that this thing you have to tell me about isn't the same kind of thing. Your response, verbatim: No, it's nothing like that.
You came here in December. I found out that this thing that was "nothing like that" was EXACTLY like that: you plan to go home and get pregnant by some man who treats you as his wife--pays for you to take trips, wants you to travel with him and bear his child--while claiming you don't want a serious relationship.
I was hurt. I tried to leave. Decided that perhaps, as you requested, we could be just friends with benefits--I could learn to not love you as time went by.
You asked me out to a club. To watch men.
You told me you wanted to go out. To watch men.
We went to a concert, where you rejected me so you could take a film. Of "a pretty man."
I suggested we go to a cabaret, I'd pay the cover, and watch some women for a change because I'm sick of dick.
You sounded bored.
Now I read this shit today on your LiveJournal: This was my night to experiment and see truly if my bi side was more than just theory. Well, yeah I can say without hesitation that I am definitely on the bi side of things.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK???????
YOU HAVE LIED TO ME TWICE. LIED TO ME!!!! You told me, from the very first, that you knew you were bi--gave me reason to hope. AND ALL ALONG IT WAS A SHAM!! You led me along like a mule on a rope, letting me believe you might actually care about me, serious relationship or no, when really you were laughing behind my back the whole time. And really, I should have known--you write all these entries about UNF, male stripper and GET IN ME, cute boy and SO HOT, motherfucking drag queen and oh by the way, Nina exists. Nina fell for me and would have laid in front of me on the ground so I wouldn't get my shoes muddy, but I'm barely going to mention her because in the scheme of things she doesn't matter as much as these REALLY HOT FUCKING MALE STRIPPERS!!!
I have news for you, Miss Oh So Sweet And Pretty: "bisexual" is not because you can get wet when a woman fingers you. I can get wet getting fingered by a guy. Gay men can get hard and even come with a woman. Women being raped can get wet simply because their body goes "oh, there is a penis there, I should do something about that." BISEXUAL IS NOT ABOUT A FUCKING INVOLUNTARY BODILY RESPONSE, IT IS ABOUT EMOTION AND CONNECTION AND DESIRE.
So guess what: You wanna experiment? You wanna "theorize?" Go find some slut in a club to take home and fuck, then, because I AM DONE BEING YOUR MOTHERFUCKING SEX TOY. We. Are. Done. You push away the people you care about? I'd believe that, if I could believe a single word you say anymore, but I do believe this: you push people away. Oh, yes, you got that right. You didn't want to get too close? Congratulations! I loved you--was a step from believing I might be in love with you, felt about you the way I have never felt about anyone else.
And tonight: I hate you.
I hate you for making me feel like this. I hate you because within fifteen minutes of getting up I was sobbing into my dog's fur, wondering why all this time I was worth nothing but lies and lies and lies and deception and obfuscation and prevarication. I hate you because I have done everything you asked of me, tried my damnedest to give you everything you could want, and THIS!!!!! is what I got in return!!!!
So congratulations. I don't ever want you in my home again, and I sure as hell don't want you in my bed again. I don't want your excuses or any more of your lies. I would ask why you didn't just tell me the truth, but given that you put that statement, that motherfucking LIE STATEMENT, right on your fucking LiveJournal WHERE YOU KNEW I WOULD SEE IT, I already know the answer: I am not worth the truth to you. You think I'm stupid, and you know what? You're right--if I wasn't, I would have seen through you months ago.
You thought you could make me your fucktoy, and that, bless your heart, is where you went wrong. Because, see, what I realised recently is that I give and give and give--I drive you home from the club, I go to the shows you want to see, I eat only in places where you want to eat--and you know what? You couldn't fucking dance with me at a concert. Because you were too busy ogling a fucking man. Then you get defensive. "Well, I went with you to dinner! You think that means I don't want to spend time with you?" But here's the thing, sweet child o' mine: you want to spend time with me when it's stuff you want to do. When I wanted to go to the park, or desert-walking, or to a cabaret, you had no interest--even though I've gone time and time again for you.
So guess what? I'm done. You'll probably take our mutual friends and go home, because people like you--the ones who can bat their eyes and play the pretty, wounded victim--tend to take the prize goose when people like me--the ones who scream when they're hurt and have no problem with letting people know, who are "forthright" in the words of one of said mutual friends--finally snap, but you know what, I have been fucking devastated all day and right now I just really don't care.
So go on, you "bisexual" bitch--go watch your strippers and your gay porn. Have fun without me, because god knows I have no interest in trying to keep being what you want or need and getting nothing back. Like the song says: "When I'm in your arms, I feel emptier inside."
This is it. I'm through with the lies.
ETA: You may have gotten a PM or e-mail about this post from someone who is not on my flist. If you did, please do not copy its contents or respond to them here. The matters discussed in the PM are private and were never supposed to be released to begin with, as per the request of the person I'm discussing here. Angry or not, hurt or not, there's no need for it to be spread all over the internet when she specifically asked for it to be kept quiet.
You, unnamed person, told me last July that you were bisexual; your exact words, in fact, were "You're a lesbian?" and, in response to my "yes," a chuckle and the words "I like both." You kissed me, made me feel sexy and special and, over the next few months, wanted. You promised to come back for me.
During those months, I asked only one request: I once thought I was dating a woman who told me, only hours before we met in person, that she would like her boyfriend--who I knew nothing about--to come with us on our trip. Please tell me that this thing you have to tell me about isn't the same kind of thing. Your response, verbatim: No, it's nothing like that.
You came here in December. I found out that this thing that was "nothing like that" was EXACTLY like that: you plan to go home and get pregnant by some man who treats you as his wife--pays for you to take trips, wants you to travel with him and bear his child--while claiming you don't want a serious relationship.
I was hurt. I tried to leave. Decided that perhaps, as you requested, we could be just friends with benefits--I could learn to not love you as time went by.
You asked me out to a club. To watch men.
You told me you wanted to go out. To watch men.
We went to a concert, where you rejected me so you could take a film. Of "a pretty man."
I suggested we go to a cabaret, I'd pay the cover, and watch some women for a change because I'm sick of dick.
You sounded bored.
Now I read this shit today on your LiveJournal: This was my night to experiment and see truly if my bi side was more than just theory. Well, yeah I can say without hesitation that I am definitely on the bi side of things.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK???????
YOU HAVE LIED TO ME TWICE. LIED TO ME!!!! You told me, from the very first, that you knew you were bi--gave me reason to hope. AND ALL ALONG IT WAS A SHAM!! You led me along like a mule on a rope, letting me believe you might actually care about me, serious relationship or no, when really you were laughing behind my back the whole time. And really, I should have known--you write all these entries about UNF, male stripper and GET IN ME, cute boy and SO HOT, motherfucking drag queen and oh by the way, Nina exists. Nina fell for me and would have laid in front of me on the ground so I wouldn't get my shoes muddy, but I'm barely going to mention her because in the scheme of things she doesn't matter as much as these REALLY HOT FUCKING MALE STRIPPERS!!!
I have news for you, Miss Oh So Sweet And Pretty: "bisexual" is not because you can get wet when a woman fingers you. I can get wet getting fingered by a guy. Gay men can get hard and even come with a woman. Women being raped can get wet simply because their body goes "oh, there is a penis there, I should do something about that." BISEXUAL IS NOT ABOUT A FUCKING INVOLUNTARY BODILY RESPONSE, IT IS ABOUT EMOTION AND CONNECTION AND DESIRE.
So guess what: You wanna experiment? You wanna "theorize?" Go find some slut in a club to take home and fuck, then, because I AM DONE BEING YOUR MOTHERFUCKING SEX TOY. We. Are. Done. You push away the people you care about? I'd believe that, if I could believe a single word you say anymore, but I do believe this: you push people away. Oh, yes, you got that right. You didn't want to get too close? Congratulations! I loved you--was a step from believing I might be in love with you, felt about you the way I have never felt about anyone else.
And tonight: I hate you.
I hate you for making me feel like this. I hate you because within fifteen minutes of getting up I was sobbing into my dog's fur, wondering why all this time I was worth nothing but lies and lies and lies and deception and obfuscation and prevarication. I hate you because I have done everything you asked of me, tried my damnedest to give you everything you could want, and THIS!!!!! is what I got in return!!!!
So congratulations. I don't ever want you in my home again, and I sure as hell don't want you in my bed again. I don't want your excuses or any more of your lies. I would ask why you didn't just tell me the truth, but given that you put that statement, that motherfucking LIE STATEMENT, right on your fucking LiveJournal WHERE YOU KNEW I WOULD SEE IT, I already know the answer: I am not worth the truth to you. You think I'm stupid, and you know what? You're right--if I wasn't, I would have seen through you months ago.
You thought you could make me your fucktoy, and that, bless your heart, is where you went wrong. Because, see, what I realised recently is that I give and give and give--I drive you home from the club, I go to the shows you want to see, I eat only in places where you want to eat--and you know what? You couldn't fucking dance with me at a concert. Because you were too busy ogling a fucking man. Then you get defensive. "Well, I went with you to dinner! You think that means I don't want to spend time with you?" But here's the thing, sweet child o' mine: you want to spend time with me when it's stuff you want to do. When I wanted to go to the park, or desert-walking, or to a cabaret, you had no interest--even though I've gone time and time again for you.
So guess what? I'm done. You'll probably take our mutual friends and go home, because people like you--the ones who can bat their eyes and play the pretty, wounded victim--tend to take the prize goose when people like me--the ones who scream when they're hurt and have no problem with letting people know, who are "forthright" in the words of one of said mutual friends--finally snap, but you know what, I have been fucking devastated all day and right now I just really don't care.
So go on, you "bisexual" bitch--go watch your strippers and your gay porn. Have fun without me, because god knows I have no interest in trying to keep being what you want or need and getting nothing back. Like the song says: "When I'm in your arms, I feel emptier inside."
This is it. I'm through with the lies.
ETA: You may have gotten a PM or e-mail about this post from someone who is not on my flist. If you did, please do not copy its contents or respond to them here. The matters discussed in the PM are private and were never supposed to be released to begin with, as per the request of the person I'm discussing here. Angry or not, hurt or not, there's no need for it to be spread all over the internet when she specifically asked for it to be kept quiet.