EXES AND OH'S

Rehashed Déjà Vus

Nine straight hours of sleep yet here I am still feeling tired and limp. Damn Levi sexing me up so dang good that I'm now like a boiled and mashed celery stick. And Kurt was right as usual, Levi should have brought me back home in a frickin' wheelchair 'cause I'm so beat.

Miraculously though, sleep kinda helped me recover a little from the emotional turmoil that's been crowding my heart and mind. Kurt was super sweet to take care of me, too. He cooked us up a small dinner and even made sure I ate a little before I took a bath to get ready for my date with Günter.

Speaking of whom, I have to get done fast because he should be here any minute now. In a fucking hurry, I just decided throw on the first cute thing I rummaged and grabbed from my closet: a thin-strapped and bare-back sequined silver romper, peep-toe heels of the same color, and then I just let my wavy shoulder-length silver hair down. I don't have any time left to fix and style it, anyway.

I look at my reflection in the mirror and pout. Goddarnit, I look like a fucking knife, a shiny silvery knife. Apt, anyway. I'm a deadly weapon set to stab and make hearts bleed, including my own.

I inspect myself again, dotting and smudging a small amount of concealer onto the dark circles under my eyes. Ah, fuck it. I grab for a brush and go for a smoky eye look instead ,so my fucking eyebags aren't that noticeable. 

It sucks to be a girl. We spend lots of money for these beauty products to make us pretty, because apparently society's idea of pretty is twisted. I have never been insecure with my looks, and I don't need to be pretty. I compensate by having a great sense of humor. But, heh, it's Günter that I'm going out on a date with. I guess I have to try to be pretty because we might be partying tonight. You know, the party in his pants.

Help me, God. I'm such a punk-ass ho. Two different guys in two consecutive nights? But hey, if guys can do it, so should women. And I'm definitely taking one for the team. 

Although... Why do I feel like, something's not right? And honestly, for some reason, I'm not super thrilled like how I initially felt with this date with Günter. Not sure why, but it kinda feels like some part of the excitement has died down.

Maybe it's just nerves. Hell, I shouldn't be feeling guilty or anything. Wait, did I say guilty? Do I feel guilt? No, absolutely not. I'm dead inside and my heart already bled out so I wouldn't be capable to even remotely feel anything. If there's anything in my body that's still throbbing, it's my pussy.

So yeah, it's definitely just nerves. Holy crap. I used to be pretty fly and do really good in first dates. Seriously, like, if dating was made into an Olympic sport, I'd get the gold and make America so frickin' proud of me.

I used to date a lot, back when I was still in college. I was experimenting. Think of it like, going on a sexual rumspringa. It was the first time I've lived by myself again since I got out of foster care. I was curious. Heck, everybody in college was. It's the perfect time to be single and adventurous because the dating pool was huge. And everyone's major mood? Horny.

There were a number of guys I've met and went on a few dates with. Some of them were really great. And of course, there's the disastrous, unforgettable ones.

I remember there's this really hot, aspiring priest who's taking a Masters degree in Divinity and Theology. Being the wench that I am, I charmed my way to get into his pants. I sinned, and so did he. And I know, it's such a cliché to say this, but my God — he really is so divine. Holy fuck, like, literally and figuratively.

On our first date, he splashed me with holy water because he said I was 'too good to be true'. He splashed me something else later that night. I want to say it was holy, too. But dang, he desecrated me and it was all for the right reasons. Jesus Christ. I think I've never said too much hallelujahs in my life.