Journey Through Dating: A Netflix Story

Idk if anyone reads this page,

But my best friend and I stopped talking 15 years ago.

I miss her are nights im sad.

I texted her tonight to tell her I missed her and when I was sad she'd be the one to comfort me.

Its been 15 years since we were that close.

And though id Mae good friends since then.

Who i tell a lot of my dark secrets to

They dont compare to who she was too me.

I dont think ill ever have that with someone again.

I thought about this page and Tumblr in general today. I never came back to start these posts.

Since I'm bad at planning I thought I'd come in and wing it.

This story will be about the 14th man I slept with who is affectionately named Beard Contest Guy in my ongoing list.

His name is not important but for this I'll call him Josh.

Fun fact we met on Snapchat. I thought he was cute and sent him a picture of me topless. We hit it off right away. Mostly drunk messages back and forth about what we liked in bed, and his ball cancer.

Within a week Josh and I met at his condo. I watched him play video games and he showed me his collection of trophies from the several beard contests he won.

Josh had this tell whenever he was ready to sleep with me. He would spin around towards me from his computer chair and braid his beard. It was very mythological. There were several types of brushes/combs involved and a few hair ties. He was a shorter man so it hung quite low to the ground when he sat. He would state at me from across the room while I laid on his bed, he always had this look on his face like he was excited to just braid his hair! It makes me giggle thinking about that look of excitement on his face.

He never was good at foreplay, by the time he finished braiding his hair and walked to the bed we were already having sex. At the time it was the best love making I'd ever had.

Josh was good in bed, always a giver, choker, all around freaky guy. He always liked me on top and would stare at me with this serial killer look in his eye. Maybe he wanted to murder me, who knows?

After sex I never felt welcomed. He'd make small talk while I washed my hands in the bathroom and put on my clothes. Once I walked out the bathroom door I knew it was time to grab my things and scoot out the front door. We never would cuddle, he'd seem antsy and distracted. I'd walk down the steps to leave and he'd follow behind me to kiss me goodbye and I'd see him a week or two later for our next round.

I naturally love to tell stories. Most of them related to my dating life.

If I can have a beer with someone, or a cigarette. I can tell them about some of my most interesting and horrendous experiences.

I was recently asked to write them down and this is the start of that journey.