Shitimscrewedphobia: The fear of being found guilty for a crime you know you could’ve prevented eg. Fear of mentioning Michael’s name whilst making love to Thomas
I’m here to tell you a story. I sincerely don’t give 2 shitsicles if your sinning ass judges me, but just so you know, I hail from a land of many cats, and cats are believed to have nine lives. And if you judge me, I’ll curse you. You can curse me back, but I got 8 lives more. So there!
It was past 12am. Disgruntled and sleepy as I waited for my no-car-having, ass-shaving, I’m-going-to-eat-cashew-nuts-eventhough-it-makes-me-shit-in-my-pants cousin to complete her bout of throwing up so I could get her home safely.
I must’ve been frowning like a sexually starved hog. ‘someone doesn’t look too happy to be here’
I turned to see who it was. He was tall and skinny, with hair so dark and shapely trimmed he looked like he’d been hand sketched. He was in a shirt with 2 buttons off and I couldn’t get my eyes of him.
That is how I met Jason. We bonded easily, he had bushels of humor packed up in his system, he could balance 3 pebbles on his tongue, and damn! The sex was good.
The only problem was Jason wasn’t single, and neither was I.
We were both entangled in relationships we choose not to talk about. I can’t talk for Jason, but my religious ass couldn’t stand my obvious sin. I was a good Christian girl (go ahead, roll your eyes) but it was one thing to be cheating and a whole new level to be thinking about the firmness of another’s butt whiles kissing another. My conscience wouldn’t let me rest.
I wanted Jason. Not just physically, but spiritually too (slit your wrist if you just rolled your eyes)
You know what I mean; I wanted to be with him on a much deeper level, past the physical.
I needed to know if I wanted to be with Jason because the two dimples just above his butt intrigued me or because I found it cute that he talked in his sleep. Because I was lonely or because his success greatly pleased me and his mind dazed me….