September 16, 2013. Raucous night.

I stayed on campus to work most of the day. A chick called later in the afternoon, I had forgotten I said I might be free. She was on campus too and came to meet me. I didn’t want her to see the secret office, so I came out. The day was crisp and sunny in the late afternoon and we walked down Broadway to 5 Lamps, a new-ish bar/restaurant with outdoor seating down in the 90s. I had on my gray pants and my Perfect Hoody with black Limmers. She was wearing tights and a sweater thing that went down just enough to cover the top half of her ass. We sat and chatted and had a good time. Here eyes were huge and pretty and brown, which I like. She told me all about her training as a varsity volleyball player as an undergraduate at Columbia. After graduating last year she started an internship at a film studio downtown where she gets hit on every day by what sound like the douchey-est fucktards imaginable. I’m not sure why she told me about her problem getting hit on all day, but there’s no doubt it’s true.

We walked up Riverside Drive, stopped at the Harlem Piers to look out over the water for a while, and then went back to my place. When we walked through my neighborhood, people looked. Was it because I was a white guy with a mixed girl? Or was it just because she was attractive?

We went up to my place and lounged around chatting more, and I put NIN on. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, but it didn’t matter. Her brown skin was smooth and her lips were so soft and smooth and large. We listened to NIN after moving to my room and afterward we both collapsed. I walked her to the subway about an hour later, she kissed me on the cheek goodbye, and then I walked home to check the Red Sox score, shower, and pick-up my room. I felt relieved and satisfied, but numb to everything.

It’s Monday around noon and it’s getting colder outside. I’m happy and content, but concerned about my growing disconnectedness from women and sex lately. I seem to want it all the time, but I don’t want a relationship with anyone. I wish I had at least one person in the same situation so I don’t have to worry about hurting anyone.

Don’t get close to me.

 

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