They will see us waving from such greatHeights
'come down now,' they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away
'come down now,' but we'll stay...
- The postal service
I received a fucking loveletter today. It wasn't an email or even a text but an actual letter, written on papper with ink, sealed and everything. So to all of you who still believe the thought of french men being old fashioned to be a myth, take that. He wrote ten sentences about my eyes, five about my long blonde hair and twenty two about my breasts. Twentyfuckingtwo.
Do I sound upset? Well I am, I feel violated by this. All I wanted in Paris was to get nails pierced into my skin, for someone to pull my hair and to orgasm. I didn't seek any love, and didn't think I got any. But obviosly, there is no way to sleep with someone without emotions. Belive me, I've spent the last three years searching for someone who can fullfill these needs without the emotinal attachment but clearly I still haven't found it. Men are needy and I won't deal with it.
celibacy- it is now my only option.