Moving On From One Relationship To Another

When is the right time to move one to another relationship? Especially after breaking up with a long time partner; the answer is, whenever you feel ready. But, the tricky part is; feeling ready and being ready isn’t always the same thing; there are many false alarms in between.

Have you ever been in a relationship for so long that it ended up feeling like not a relationship? Like you guys were now siblings, except every now and then you’d roar like a lion and take her panties off using just your teeth, and you know you can’t do that to your real sibling, right?

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The thing about such relationships is; you often take for granted the effect they have on you since they’ve been around forever and the moment they come to an end you realize that “Bae” was more important than you had realized. Some couples develop certain languages, gestures, expressions, or inside jokes that only they understand, and having a joke so good that only “Bae” would understand and she’s no longer here to hear it can kill a man, and because of that you find yourself missing her so much, often the little things you took for granted, the simplest things, her giggle, her odd sense of humor or just the fresh smell of her panties.

Again, when is the right time to start dating again? And be fair to your new partner. In many cases, people subconsciously compare new “Bae” with ex-“Bae”, like “come on man, Ex cooked better, kissed better, and replied texts much quicker”, so much that you end up asking yourself this very dangerous question; Was that thing really worth breaking up over?
I have learned, in hindsight everything doesn’t really seem “that bad”, our minds are biased, they only remember what we want to remember, in other words, you will not remember the boiling kettle she threw at your genitals for liking another girl’s picture on Instagram, but you will remember the makeup sex you guys had afterwards.
But on a more serious note, comparing your previous relationship to your current one denies the current one a chance to thrive, because such judgments are never really objective.

The right time to move on is when you have truly made peace with the previous relationship and how it ended, when you wish nothing but happiness, health, wealth and many orgasms for your ex-partner (if there is such), and when your objectivity has been restored fully that you can enter a new relationship with no baggage from your old one, when you can truly travel light.

With that said, dear Ex, if I ever pitch up at midnight at your house reciting Drake’s lyrics, just know I’ve been at some dodgy club trying to pick up some dodgy women but failed because I’ve been with you forever and so my game is kind of outdated, and my righted hand with more biceps than the left one because I’ve been masturbating like crazy, and I talk nonstop because I’ve been having no one to talk to lately, and I’m drunk as hell begging you to take me back, please just offer me strong coffee, run me a bath and lay me down on your couch and I will wake up the next morning feeling terribly ashamed, apologize for my hysterics and do my walk of shame back home.
Thank you in advance.

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Does Being A Pervert Make Me Such A Bad Person?

SEX, SEX, and more SEX= My average thoughts on an average day.
I’m not really certain if I should really write this one, but since I’ve went as far as putting my laptop on my lap I might as well. Welcome to forth base.

A woman breastfed next to me the other day, I couldn’t help but stare at her “titties”, so much that she had to stop and I felt so horrible as the baby started crying, the little man must have been not full. This other time I worked as a security guard, and this man and his wife had just purchased underwear for the Mrs., and as they walked out my alarm beeped and I had to search for tags still stuck in their packaged, and as I opened it my eyes glowed like a boy with a new toy, and the husband whispered in my ear; “Merry Christmas son”.

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Does it all make me a bad person? Yes I sniff panties, masturbate, and randomly stare at strange women and fantasize about having sex with them.
My granny would be so ashamed of me, she raised me by the ways of Christianity and I know that fantasizing about adultery is a sin as actually committing it, but the last time I went to church I got an erection in the Lord’s house as I sat behind a lady with a booty so big that I could see the panties line underneath her long skirt, but then again I always have been so “vigilant”, hallelujah.

That was back in 2005 or 6, I’m a grown man now but I still have hormones of a 16 year old boy, and they embarrass me every day.
I often feel like Don Jon, my relationships often include me, girlfriend, dirty Facebook and twitter pages, pornhub and Vaseline, so my righted hand still aches as it did back in high school.

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Does this entire make me a bad person, or just a shallow one?

I still read, write, treat other people well, pray to God (although I no longer go to church), and pay my taxes, but, I’d still sleep with the 1st lady that might walk through that door.

Does that make me such a bad person?

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Blurred Lines

It started off professionally,
As a doctor and patient relationship,
Confident in confidentiality clauses,
To confine us.

We went to being acquaintances,
Customized, to cater for personal needs,
My confidence weakened,
So did my strength,
Caterpillars in my stomach, so my knees weakened,
That I couldn’t stand
being apart from you.

It started off professionally,
Ended up circumstantially, consequentially compromised,
A drug dealer and an addict,
A broken man, only your “fix” could repair me,
Your love, your addictive love,
Your heroin, cocaine, crack, smack,
My confidence, free from confinement
Of confidentiality clauses,
My vision, once so vivid,
Now so blurry, contrast contradictions,
Cause of our buried ethics and morals,

I got lured,
As lines got blurred.

How I Quit Smoking Cigarettes

“If you can survive a single day without it, you can survive a lifetime”. It was by then almost five years that I had been a cigarette smoker, it was a heavy burden I carried on my shoulders, and I often wondered, “How did I become addicted?”

In grade 7 I smoked weed to experiment, 8th grade weed and cigarettes, both only when around friends and never really had any cravings whatsoever when alone. My family moved around a lot, so I changed friends a lot as well, and all my new friend(s) every other year were never keen on “experimenting”, so my interest in “chemistry” just kind of faded like that. Well, until one evening at home, I just walked out after supper, went to the shops, bought a cigarette, lit it and took a walk around the neighborhood. It was the most beautiful ever, a quite night, moonlight and streetlights that shone brighter to compliment the symphony playing in my head. That evening’s patterns were sure to be repeated “occasionally”, but the occasions soon became frequent enough to see me a nicotine addict in no time.

Again, “How did I become addicted?” Maybe I was just “experimenting”, again, or trying to impress a girl I liked that only dated bad boys or maybe I just wanted to fit in, but whatever it was, it had made me an addict, and for real this time. The years went by swiftly, but the “habit” remained, unwelcome, almost like an ex-lover’s tattoo on your body. I smoked like a chimney shamefully, ignored the effects on my skin, lungs, erections, eyesight and much more, and only justified; “We all die in the end”. I started keeping friends with no similar interests but the smoke blown out of our mouths, similar girlfriends, and now started having money problems, the shortage of petty cash, small debts, and so strapped for cash that my aunt once said; “One of these days I might have to rob someone just to give you some money because that’s all you ever demand every time you stop by”.

Her words really cut deep, even more so that they were in fact deep. I had by then considered quitting, but she just catalyzed this new prospect. I took a pledge, “I quit”:
Firstly I decided to only smoke two cigarettes a day, one in the morning and the other in the evening, leaving nothing in between. It was extremely difficult, but as days went by I found myself having more time to do more human(e) activities without taking smoking breaks every 30 minutes. Petty cash returned, and I now started enjoying more fruits (apples specifically), and now had more time for people who added value in my life. I fell in love with myself again, and friends and family enjoyed my company more now that it didn’t come with a five bucks taxation form, cigarettes added tax. I now desperately wanted to keep this new me, so I had to cut the remaining two. I thought I’d only smoke in the evenings but as I tried to the next day, the taste of cigarette in my mouth made me almost throw up.

Needless to say I quit completely after that, I counted the days, the cravings strengthened, head spun, eyes swollen, and mouth drooled, heavily. Around the 6th day I decided to introduce naps as my hopelessness intensified, whenever I craved, I just took a nap. On the 11th day I realized: “I’ve once lived without cigarettes, and I can do it again”.

It is now five years since I quit.

Amen.

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