Ex

Salma Hayek – Sienta Mi Amor.

Ah, “Ex.” There’s plenty of info on her scattered throughout the site, but I figured it best to make a dedicated post. On the rest of the site, I complain about her, and thus prefer to focus on the positives herein. Plus, it’s a pleasant time to recall.

We met through a dating site, and chatted for a few months. Her having a history on debate teams, our conversations drew us together. Eventually we met and began dating. What held us together was our mutual interesting in philosophy, psychology, and general discussion, aswellas most forms of gaming, cooking, laughing, cuddling, and good sex. Our time together was very often good.

At first, we lived an hour apart, by car. She’d visit on the weekends, when we’d cook, game, talk about life, and bang like crazy. Amusingly, when we first interacted, I didn’t own a bed; I hadn’t owned one for years, as I’d regularly slept on the floor throughout my life, and simply didn’t mind. But she wanted one, so we picked one up, together, on her second or third visit.

I was living in an excellent little apartment at the time, with a single roommate whom I’d met in a previous houseshare. He was a low-grade hoarder, but a thoroughly decent roomie. My comfortable room was large enough for the queen bed, as well as two tables and chairs, set for our team-gaming, and watching shows while in bed. Our bathroom, living room, and kitchen were quite large, which facilitated a large variety of fun for us.

After a few months of regularly hanging out, my lease was up, so we decided I’d move in with her, during the hot and breezy summer. She lived with an old friend – a decent fellow, though childish. We, along with some of her other friends, regularly played a variety of games together – board, card, and video. She and I cooked daily, cherishing our shared creations while gaming, watching shows, and laughing. She wasn’t working or going to school at the time, nor was I.

The house itself was almost Victorian in style: unnecessarily cramped due to extremely poor design. Every room was irrationally small, and the stairs leading to the second floor were unbelievably dangerous due to being so tightly spiraled – getting my bed up there was barely possible. Nevertheless, we made do.

The only AC was a tiny old unit sticking out the kitchen window, sitting above a table which was cramped in a little nook. She and I would sit at that table, playing card and board games together, while laughing our heads off and feeling each other up. We’d often shop for food together, simultaneously planning our future meals while laughing. Our nights were spent banging and cuddling, with our window fans always on, in a pathetic attempt to cool our little room.

During that lovely summer, I volunted at the local Habitat ReStore, processing donations, fixing or building things, and helping customers. It was quite close, and the weather made the walk very nice. One day, on my way there, I saw a high-quality fedora-esque hat sitting atop a post, in the middle of no where. Accordingly to my code of conduct, I left it there for the day, and grabbed it on my way home. I gave it to her, which she greatly enjoyed and regularly showed off.

That summer, despite the suffocating heat and persistent discomfort of the cramped house, was one of the best times of my life. Our relationship was doing very well: we rarely did less than relish each other’s company. She, for the most part, was appreciative of my emotional support rather than resentful, and we were growing closer and closer. I suppose that began changing when we moved, at the end of summer, for her schooling.

The reason for that change, which occurred over time rather than due to a single major event, was simple: she grew increasingly uncomfortable with the disparity in our maturity. The longer our relationship lasted, the more problems we faced together, the more I proved to be the vastly stronger between us. At times she was appreciative, at times she was resentful.

For our move, we stayed with some friends of hers for a few weeks. I found our next place: a nearly wonderful apartment, relatively close to her to school. We had a balcony with a decent view, a massive room and living room, a solid bathroom, and a humble kitchen. As usual, we gamed, cooked, banged, laughed, had her friends over for games and such, and simply enjoyed life.

As time passed, as she was stressed from school, our relationship became increasingly strained. She would regularly become combative for no reason, leading to arguments that literally lasted over four hours, wherein I consistently proved her wrong and behaving inappropriately – she agreed with me, in the end, every time. As more time passed, she just kept making more and more problems. It’s sad to think about, as we genuinely had potential – even if for a relationship between inequals.

We laughed, cooked, gamed, and banged less and less, until she was beginning to outright avoid me – all while still forcing me to deal with her nonsense. It made me very sad. I genuinely believed, for most of the relationship, that she would grow and improve – it was the only reason I put up with the nonsense.

I say that because many of her behaviors were ones I would not have tolerated otherwise. I kept hoping things would stop degrading, and worked toward that end. C’est la vie. When we last saw each other, she was teary-eyed, but unapologetic and thankless.


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~ by Louis Naughtic on May 18, 2017.

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