I just had a cry-gasm.
(with Beverly– my vibrator)
Jesus.

It felt really good. And then I thought about how on Christmas (which is less than a month away) I will have not have had sex for almost a year

okay, I had sex once in 2019. But I didn’t like it.
Like at all.

To the point that when the guy texts me to hangout
I almost get angry.

As if he knows I hate fucking him.

Not to be confused with hate-fucking.
(which is both delicious and marvelous.)

I feel like my personality has been split down the middle between two different people at this point.

The me that has adventure in my soul, and just wants to travel, and feel alive.
I just wanna laugh forever. and not in that tacky middle aged woman way 
(you know … who ill be in about two weeks if I forget to moisturize.)

There is also a me that’s afraid to leave my house.
I thought I might be agoraphobic. But I’m not afraid of going outside.
I’m more so afraid of my neighbors. They’re nosey and kinda insane.
Its also my depression.
More often than not I find myself crying on my couch over the most trivial things.
Sometimes something will remind me of my dad 
Sometimes I feel like my life isn’t going to come together
(my own fault due to my lack of interest of — anything?)

And I only bring it up because he totally brings that second half of me out.
But he is also my friend. I think?
Is he my friend if he expects to fuck me every time I’m “in town”
But won’t come apple picking with me in the Hamptons?

Like were you really trying to be there for me when my dad died ?
Or were you just optimizing on my pain?

Anyways, 2019, not a great year for sex. Or really anything.
People who are positive deserve trophies and metals.
Because life is rough and I’m exhausted for no reason.
I literally just get exhausted thinking about all this bullshit.

Thats my update.

I’m not interested in dating or men.
But I am interested in IVF.