Greetings from ULLLLTRRRRAAAAAAA WEEEEEEKKKEEEEEENNNND!!
I would rather give away my Celine bag and then go down there. I don’t fuck with neon colors or Skrillex.
Anyways, what did you guys think about my last post regarding my luuuuv story? Did it leave you hungry for more? Or did it make you want to never read it again? I would love to know.
Just so you all know, I have a comment section at the bottom of my blog. It’s always empty regardless of the hundreds of readers I have every day. GIVE ME FEEDBACK!
If you have any requests or questions, please don’t hesitate to email me. My contact info is in my About Me.
So anyways, back to my love story.
I hope you enjoy the rest.
The Ex and I made love that night and his friends screening room. We eventually moved up to one of the guestrooms after the party ended and continued all night. When I say all night, I actually do mean all night. We couldn’t get enough of each other. I was tired for days afterwards.
The morning I woke up next to him, regret pooled in my stomach. I had wanted to save it and make him earn it. It had been great sex but I knew this was probably the last time that I would hear from him.
I started quietly grabbing my stuff so as not to wake him. Of course, I couldn’t get enough reception to call an uber. I tiptoed around the room trying to get the best connection.
“Hey, what are you doing? Come here.”, he said rather groggily.
I sat on the edge of the bed in front of him and he rubbed my back with his eyes halfway open. This reminded me of a newborn gerbil.
“I have so much to do today. I didn’t want to wake you but I have to go…”
He furrowed his brows.
“What do you have to do on a Sunday?”
My hungover brain couldn’t even think of anything to say back so I just giggled.
He asked me to breakfast which I politely declined. I just wanted to go home, take a shower, and binge watch Gossip Girl.
We rode in that uber together and he held my hand the whole time.
“Do you want to come to this art thing with me next Sunday?”, He asked, breaking our silence.
“Yeah, I would love to.”
We texted throughout the week. He was so witty and charming. He worked crazy hours due to being in the entertainment industry and was constantly tired. He didn’t have an emotional barrier up like me and was as open as a book. I liked that. I wanted to be like that the more and more we spoke.
Sunday came around and I hopped into his BMW once again. The top was down as we drove through West Hollywood and he played “Tiny Dancer” by Elton John. I felt like Penny Lane in Almost Famous as I watch the passing palm trees and sang along.
Ballerina / You must’ve seen her/ Dancing in the sand/ Now she’s in me/ Always with me/ Tiny Dancer in my hand
He took me to the Beverly Hills art show and we walked around for an hour or so before nestling into the grass with two Heineken’s. We talked about everything. He told me about how his father left him when he was very young and he didn’t even know where he lived now. He told me of his mother and how much he loves her. I told him about my fucked up family and some of our trials and tribulations. I told him the emptiness I felt in modeling at the time and how I hated being alone. I shared that I didn’t want to have kids because I didn’t think I would ever be a good mother and I would fail the child. He stroked my hair softly and kissed my hand.
We began dating shortly afterwards.
We would just lay in bed, staring into each others eyes and speaking softly. He was beginning to chip at the wall that I had spent so many years building. He was slowly peeling back my layers and getting me to open up. I never felt like this. I didn’t know if it was love quite yet because I had never experienced it.
And then, four months into dating, I knew. I knew I loved him. The realization came in early December when we were out one night. His work friends were having a mini company party and he invited me. I was an hour or so late because I stopped at my friend’s house to console her broken heart. The more she told me about her tumultuous relationship, the more I realized how lucky I was.
I finally showed up at the party and The Ex was so happy to see me. He lifted me up and kissed me. He grabbed my hand and brought me to the bar’s back patio. I assumed he was just in the mood to be voyeuristic. He picked me up and sat me down on the wooden ledge and held my face.
“I just want you to know that you’re the most amazing person that I’ve ever met. I am constantly thinking about you and I’ve never felt this way. “, he declared.
I held my breath in anticipation for those three little words.
Of course, his fucking friends burst out onto the patio at that fucking moment.
“Whoooaaahh, here you guys are! We were looking for you. “, Said one of the guys in the shirt that had wet spots from his spilled cocktail.
The Ex put his hands in his pocket and murmured something. The moment was gone and I knew it. Ugh.
We went home later that night and made out like teenagers on his couch. I climbed on top of him and wrapped my arms around his neck. It was now or never. I looked down at The Ex and stopped kissing him.
“What’s wrong? “
I shook my head, “Absolutely nothing. I just have to tell you. I just want you to know that I love you. So much. I don’t know if this changes anything, I just had to tell you. “
“Megan, I love you too. I wanted to tell you earlier. I fucking love you. “
We made sweet and slow love that night and fell asleep in each others arms.
We spent the rest of the month in the throes of young love. We were obsessed with each other. He took me to Palm Springs a couple days after Christmas for a weekend getaway. We stayed at the Parker Meridian and had a romantic dinner at a gorgeous Italian restaurant close by. Nothing could’ve made me look at another man.
Actually, I was at a friends house who had a little get together and fucking Zac Efron was there. I didn’t even care to talk to them. All I could think about was The Ex. Zac asked if I wanted him to teach me how to play pool and I declined. My friend was shocked that I didn’t immediately respond to Zac’s sexually charged energy. But I didn’t care at all. He wasn’t The Ex.
That’s how you know it’s love: when you turn down Zac Efron’s offer to get behind you and show you how to use a pool stick.
Yes, I did mean for that to sound as sexual as it did.
I mean, Zac wasn’t phased by it at all and he actually hooked up with another girl that night.
In mid-January, I had heard some upsetting news that I have been asked to not divulge in this blog. I was extremely depressed and I wasn’t answering anyone’s text or calls the whole day. The Ex had been calling me all day before he texted my roommate asking where I was. She told him that I was upset in my bed and didn’t want to be disturbed.
He called me nine more times and I kept forwarding them all to voicemail. Anytime I used to feel sadness, I would hole up and wait for it to pass. I just didn’t want anyone to see me like that.
I heard the apartment door open and footsteps coming to my room. There he was. Standing in my doorway like a John Cusack movie. I put out my cigarette in a cup of water next my bed. He didn’t say anything at first. He just looked very confused. I straightened my body up and stared straight ahead.
Sorry to leave you on the cliffhanger but I have some plans today. If I don’t stop writing now, I will be very late. I hope I am intriguing all of you and I will write the rest of the story later tonight.
Happy Sunday Funday!