Alright fuck it. Almost four months of sexual abstinence, last time being unsatisfying and in AUGUST, is definitely too much. It merely proved that I'm a perverted, nympho slut with no shame at all.

I want to get laid and I don't care who does it. (And it's really about time the new L Word Season starts. I need my lesbian fill of the year).

My ex-boyfriend's presence at my school, in the classes we share and even on my ICQ buddylist is making me really uncomfortable, all the time. Knowing that he's back from his one-year exchange to the USA, that he has changed (and I'm still not sure if I like it) pisses me off, and that with each time I see him, I remember the pain he made me go through during our break-up.

On the other hand, I'm so desperately trying to show off as the cool one, as if this issue hadn't bothered me for more than twelve and a half seconds, that he doesn't seem to notice what a prick he really is. Which is annoying- are men really so dumb to think that they have left no impression at all, that I can just move on like this? Hello you retard, I'm totally still mad and pissed at you, but I'm not doing you the favor of telling you this.

Kind of screws my day, because I'd kill to have sex with him just once again. If there was one thing he was naturally good at, well, it was sex. And even though I'm "not in the mood", I'd do an exception. Either for him or for a girl but let's not talk about that because it would lead to my new found self-phobia. Seriously. I'm not gay.
...

I turned down sex because I'm an emotional chaos (and additionally, I also hadn't shaved my legs).
Please let this statement sink into your minds:

I. Turned. Down. Sex.

I hate couples. I hate how everyone's got a new love interest or is dating someone new. People are even getting married and having babies (note, I'm exaggerating). Meanwhile I'm sitting here feeling lonely and depressed because I haven't been in love for a little less than a year. Great, Sara. You're progressing from bitching to whining.

It went by fine when I had at least some girlfriends to share the sorrows with. But now everyone's happy except for me. I've become a cold and ugly person, cynism and sarcasm my mantra, every guy bored of my phrases and in fact, I'm bored of myself too. And we haven't even started talking about looks yet.

It's weird. Being single has had it's advantages for me, but now it seems to be gone, everything. The worst part of it all is even if I were in love, I'd probably not be ready to get it on with. I'm still uncomfortable about the thought of relationships, I'm still dealing with trust issues, my expecations have risen so high, they've reached Pluto. And Pluto's far fucking away.

Guess it's time to get myself a cat.

I haven't had my period in 2 months exactly. Two. Months. Every day I cross my fingers and pray to the pro-choice, great and almighty Turtle/Fertility God that I'm not pregnant- or at least pregnant with something cool, make it a baby with two heads or extraordinary big feet. You know, something worth the hassle.

Another fucked up thing, I'm really PMSing. I have ALL of the symptoms- mood swings (especially the mood swings), cramps, all the shitty parts plus two more.

Great. I'm having seven problems right now, and the lack of blood is five of them.

Let's recall all my sexual encounters: .. I don't remember. But it's a good thing I have a blog, isn't it. I know I had sex after I got my period the last time. Victim was The Company, but I'm a hundred percent positive that we used a condom. I must admit that by then, I hadn't been on the Pill anymore. I do remember that he didn't get off inside me, though, so whatever, he's not it (and now PLEASE don't ask me about guys and condoms and not getting off- "boo hoo, that condom is too thick, bo-hoo-hoo", girls, make sure the condoms are tight, unless you really really really like blow jobs).

Then there was the Perfect Guy whom I've had in my fantasies. He was the best lover I've ever had and I'm sure he pushed some life into me. He would have, anyway, but as a matter of fact, it was only mental sex, so let's go on.

Uh-Oh. Permanent Crush. The car quickie. It's coming back to me right now. I wish he was still there so I could call and ask him, but he's cruising through the bays of Australia right now. And I'd freak him out anyway. I am positive about the presence of a rubber during the incident, but I wouldn't be so sure about how long it lasted being healthy (it was really an awkward situation and I could imagine it being torn apart while we were trying to settle the position. A car isn't always the best place to fuck, since he's all rough. He makes sure I'm wearing the "Just Got Beaten Up" look).

Anyway. I am in dire need of a pregnancy test, and I have one more month left for an abortion. Yee-haa.

This is one of these posts I wouldn't dare to publish on a relatively known blog. Maybe one of these days I'll tell my friends everything about me, but just right now, it seems like all they can do is raise their eyebrows and look at me as if I'm a ho. Not to mention the teachers who still have my URL (don't ask me HOW they got it, but sometimes they approach me saying "hey good job, I like your writing" and I totally freak out. Particularly during my L-Word obsession. I'm not just a weirdo, I'm officially gay, too. Way to screw my grades!).

About a week ago some friends of my parents stopped by for lunch, and they brought along their son, my Permanent Crush from the age of 9 until I was about 13. I didn't see him often, so every two months I'd fall in love again. He is two years older than me, and we would only get to see each other on big family or Syrian or Islam gatherings. You know, the cultural bullshit I'd pay money to avoid.

He's Half American, Half Syrian, living in Germany- he deals with the same shit as I do, partly ignorant parents who want him to be a perfect Muslim (much like his two older siblings are- Jehovas Witnesses couldn't be more fanatic). This is what brought us closer in the first place, and the chronic absence of my older brother who still went to boarding school back then.

When I was 15, we were hanging outside of a building where 30 or 40 families celebrated the end of Ramadan. He bored the crap out of me and I think I wasn't helping the situation, so one thing led to another and we had a good loving in his brother's car. It was tense and exciting, and to know I got someone I used to want- pushed me way up on the ego scale. He's decent looking and smells good and knows how to make a girl enjoy herself.

Ever since, whenever we saw each other and couldn't fight the urge to kill boredom, we'd fuck. He is an arrogant player and really doesn't give a shit about whether I'm having a good time or not, and it's exactly this attitude that gives me the kinks. No foreplay, no fussing- just hitting it. I don't know if he ever noticed how good he is, I'm not a big moaner, but he is 2nd place on my Top 7 list of people I've slept with.

Two years ago, I randomly met him in Syria- his first time in Damascus- and we spent 6 weeks together. Six weeks, and I don't know the smallest detail of his private life. Sure, the music and movies he likes, some of his dreams- but we were usually pretty caught up. Once, we tried to have a threesome with an American chick who lives one flat beneath us in Damascus, but she was knocked out after the first round of shots and so fucking was no option. I don't mind it didn't happen-- if the first experience with a girl is going to be a threesome, my life is determined to suck.

Anyway- when I met him last week, he told me that now he's done with school and going to leave for Australia. Surprisingly, he asked if I would like a date with him before he leaves. I was irritated, because we had never been on the level of dating. I agreed, and last night we met. We had a drink, and he spilled out something I would've never even dared to assume: He loves me. He said he couldn't stop thinking of me- last time we saw each other was March, and ever since he's just out of his mind because he's leaving so soon.

He took my hands, looked into my eyes and said, "Sara- I'm not asking you to wait for me. Just please don't forget there's someone who wants, and needs you. And maybe when I come back, we're both ready for a relationship." Or something along these lines, anyway.

I felt completely exhausted. Not because of his confession, but because there's nothing even close to love that I feel for him. Nothing. And there's absolutely noone else either.. except.. maybe.. but that's another story.

We went outside of the bar and started to kiss. And ended up in his car again. I feel guilty, but he actually thanked me afterwards. Okay, fellas, if there's one thing you really shouldn't say after a quickie, it's thank you. She'll feel like a cheap whore, although I understood where he was coming from. It was saying goodbye to an old friend, and it was also saying goodbye to an old part of me- the part that doesn't know shit about guys and relationships. Hey, now there's more space for the part of me who has no fucking clue what I want. Life's a bitch.

It wasn't a sad date. It was sweet and comfortable, and he isn't devastated at all- no pity me scene, no "please come with me", nothing like that. We both know we're no relationship material, at least for now we're not, and that there are plenty other things to care about. It's kind of the same situation with The Company, the guy I hang out with almost every day. I know he wants to be with me romantically - he told me- but I drew a line. There's no chemistry, so why play it out? And as opposed to what I did with Permanent Crush, The Company and I stopped having sex or anything else altogether. There's enough fuss already.

I really think it's time to fall in love again.

Last week I went shopping with my mother, and I ended up with a bunch of cool t-shirts and tops. I was so happy I could've cut my toes and it wouldn't have hurt.

With a huge smile and radiating vibes on my side (shopping is like heroin, it makes sure your hormones go nuts and you have butterflies in your stomach) we went to McD's to relax a little bit from the enormous effort we put into spending money. Indeed, I hadn't felt that good in a long time.

I'm waiting in line to take my order, observing all the freaks around me- teenagers, mostly- and families with more than 300 children - when I spot THE guy. Perfect guy. I think I actually drooled. A big grin appeared on my face. He was way beyond my league, but that didn't make me enjoy my eye candy pleasure any less. This doesn't happen often to me when I see men- usually, I'm rather attracted to women - but that dude? He had it all. A bit of Dermot Mulroney, a little bit of Orlando Bloom, and also a little bit of Keira Knightley. No wait, I lied- I just wanted my male visitors to profit, too.

Soon he leaves and it's me and my mother again. On our way back to the subway station I ask her to check out one last store with me. I immediately fell in love with a pair of Vans that made me happier than anything else I ever owned before (which is also a lie. I am always happier than I've ever been before when I go shopping). When my mother lets me buy them, I take a chance and ask her if she's got 200 bucks spare to buy me an Ipod as well, but that obviously didn't work. She went downstairs to the subway station while I waited in line to pay. I pass the changing cubicle, and guess who almost knocks me out? Perfect Guy. There he stands, in front of me, drool is dripping out of my mouth, and he smiles the most beautiful smile I've ever seen and says, "hey, hold on a second", and I'm like "whahahahamee?". I force myself to stay calm and keep myself from fainting.

"Can you please tell me if these clothes are good on me?"

Big flashy smile. I want to scream YES, YES, they're PERFECT, YOU are perfect, but I stay sensible.

"Oh, yeah, they're nice."

I grin, I'm already giddy enough, I don't want to play games, TAKE ME.

"You have some nice shoes there, too. Can you wait a second and advise me about my other stuff as well?"

Articulated words, awesome eyes, shoulders as wide as the equator, oh I'd have waited til Judgement Day. He goes back into the cubicle, I wait outside, impatiently because my mom's going to be pissed if I let us miss the train. He steps out again, in bathing shorts and a nice t-shirt.

"So, how about these things?"

Roar.

"Sure, they're good. Perfect. Haha, yes, haha--"

"Thanks for your help. Look, will you wait another second?"

I'm thinking, how much stuff is this guy going to buy, but when he steps out he's dressed in his own clothes, grins again, hands me a piece of paper and says, "Thanks for your advice. Your honesty was very refreshing- " Well, yeah, it was indeed honest but did he flash a look into the mirror recently? - "and I want to thank you for your help. Just call me and I'll invite you... cup of coffee, or something." He turns red as a tomatoe (cute!) and leaves.

I spent a week being high on that incident. A guy, so classy, so cool, so stylish, so sexy- wants ME to call HIM? I made up all kind of things why that would be- maybe he's sick and needs my kidney? Maybe he's gay and just needs a fag hag? Maybe, possibly he's a retard?

On Saturday, I call him up. His name is Yee (yeah, don't ask me), he is 19 years old, lives not far away from here and is the sweetest guy ever.

"How about lunch?" he asks.

"Sure thing!"

"Do you like Sushi?"

"Will you marry me?" I actually splurted that out, and I really wanted to hang myself, but he just laughed and said "Well, let's take it slow there."

We decided on Tuesday, enough time to get mentally prepared. Do you know how cruel it is to go on a date with such a good looking guy? You want to be equal, but you know you're NEVER going to make it there.

On Monday I was so tense I couldn't walk properly. I wanted to get drunk and just knocked the fuck out, break my leg or jump from a cliff- that nervous. At 7 PM I get a call on my cell, and number ID tells me it's him. "Shit, he's going to cancel. Yeah, it was too good to be true."

I answer, but surprisingly enough, a very annoying female voice is on the other end.

"Hellooooo (imagine Janice, Chandler's ex-girlfriend)? Who iiiiis iiiit?"

"Uh, my name's Sara, and who are you?"

"Weeeeelll, that is none of youuuuur busineeeess. I want to knoooow what you dooo with my booooyfrieeeeend."

"I'm doing nothing with your boyfriend. Who the fuck is your boyfriend? What do you want from me?"

"Weeeelll, I sawww that heee called youuuu, and I muuuust telll youuuu, heeee is miiiiiine."

Things kind of get clear. That guy has a girlfriend. I guess she must be an amazing freak in the sheets, because there's no other excuse to go out with someone who has a voice like that.

"Yeah, I wasn't going to steal your guy. I helped him with something and he just wanted to invite me for a cup."

"Whaaaaaaaat, he is inviiiiiiting youuuuu?"

Before she even ended the sentence, a harsh male voice breaks out from the background, "Hey, that's my cell phone, who are you calling?", followed by a nerve-killing fight between the two.

Breathlessly, Perfect Guy answers the phone, "Sara? I'm sorry, I- I can't talk -- aAAAH - right now.. I think my girlfriend doesn't like -- ah, STOP IT- the idea of our lunch, I'm sorry, I'll caaaaa--" Beep.

See, and that is the reason why from now on, I'm totally sticking to girls.