March 7th 2008
So I must apologize, I've been neglecting you Isabella! It's harder than I thought to keep a journal! I assumed I'd be able to just empty the contents of my mind at the end of each day directly into word form for you but you know, a lot of the time when I get home I'm too damn tired to pick up a fork let alone a pen!
Speaking of forks, after careful consideration I've ended our love affair. We've had a toxic relationship for some time now, and I just had to come to the realization that maybe we're not such a good fit for each other. Maybe I should try out the salad fork for a while, maybe we'll be a better fit right?
In other related news, I've lost 7.4 pounds! And hell yeah I'm including the .4 because I worked damn hard for it! Mr. wonderful and I have a love/hate relationship. I love him before and after the workouts but during? I want to rip his face off! Yesterday, he tried to kill me. He sincerely wanted to kill me. Wanted me to stop breathing all together.
He somehow swindled me into the treadmill again, (don't ask me how, just know there were dimples involved) and he had that thing up so high there were almost sparks from were the top of my thighs were rubbing together. I swear, when I got off I nearly clocked him upside his head but the man ran up and hugged me! Snatched me up, and swung me around! Told me he was proud of me, for not quitting when it got hard.
If it wasn't for that accent and the sudden butterflies in my stomach he would have been struck! Have I told you how sexy that accent is? If not I'll tell you again. It's sticky panties, say that one more time even though I heard you quite clearly, star of my masturbatory fantasies, sexy. I mean it's so sexy that instead of getting angry, I smiled. I actually smiled through the cramping in both of my legs. It was worth the pain and the stink eye from the supermodel bots. So I waved him goodbye and promptly limped home.
I even dragged Hector's ass down to the gym and, wait now, have I told you about Hector? I can't believe I haven't told you about him, he's only my other half! First of all, his name is pronounced Heck-tah, a true new Yorker. He was the first person I saw when I walked into the 9th school I'd attend since kindergarten and I instantly fell in love. He had curly hair, hazel eyes and dimples. Can you tell I have a thing for dimples? Anyway, I was completely enamoured with him and he knew it.
From the very first time we spoke to each other, we were inseparable. He took me to Coney Island and the Brooklyn zoo, he taught me how to swear in Spanish, also taught me those key words to know if someone was talking shit about me in Spanish so I'd be able to cuss them out. We did everything together, he was my best friend, and on my 16th birthday, he gave me a red rose, (which I still have to this day) and asked me if we could go steady, as if we weren't already. At least in my mind. We were high school sweethearts; kisses between classes, holding hands in the hallway, he even carried my books when he walked me home.
I was completely dumfounded, because I knew full well there were much prettier girls in that school, prettier ones that would have sold their left tit to be in my shoes. I saw them staring at us, with puzzled looks on their faces trying to understand what he saw in the dark-skinned girl with the country accent. He told me later that it was because I was like a breath of fresh air, and also because I was about the only girl who loved Janet Jackson as much as he did. And not because she was a Jackson; because we both wanted to be a part of the rhythm nation so bad it hurt.
I wanted to have sex with Hector so bad it hurt. I was a teenage girl with a boyfriend who looked like he could have been Davante sway's Hispanic cousin. I wanted nothing more than to do all the freaky dirty things my teenage mind could dream up while my sexy boyfriend spoke Spanish in my ear.
So I devised a plan to seduce him which consisted of me blatantly throwing myself at him. He ducked and dodged me. I didn't understand, if he was my boyfriend, and he loved me like he said he did, thought I was as beautiful as he said, why wouldn't the boy fuck me? All we ever did was kiss, and every once in a while cop a feel in a dark movie theatre. (All of which was done by me) I needed more and Hector refused to give it to me quoting Janet Jackson saying "Lets wait a while," well damnit my body WANTED to go too far!
He asked me to wait. He said he wanted it to be special, and what was more special than prom? I grudgingly agreed to wait until prom. Even though it was two years away, I agreed to wait because I loved him and I wanted to respect his wishes as well as my own. He said he needed time, that he wasn't ready yet and just because I was, I didn't want to push him away. I really and truly loved him with all my heart.
So when prom time finally rolled around, I scoured the city and found the perfect dress. It was sexy, in an early 90's prom kinda way. The dress itself didn't matter because I didn't plan on staying in it too long. Damn teenage hormones!
It was what... 1994? Damn I'm getting old! Anyway, he comes and picks me up and tells me I look amazing. I couldn't care less about taking pictures but my parents forced me to pose for a few before we left. Prom was good, but all I remember is counting down the moments until it was over! I guess Hector was too. So when the time came, we had this hotel room that his older cousin booked for us in Jamaica Queens. It was near his house and I was gonna stay over afterwards. So I'm there, and I'm in the bathroom. Got the damn dress off and now I'm wearing my very sexy light blue French cut silk panties (that I got at JC Penny in the women's section) with the matching blue bra. You remember that Isabella? When everything was cut high up to your bellybutton? Well I was tall so it didn't quite reach my belly button. I just had a little bit of thickness to me too. Not fat or nothing, just thick! So I'm in this bathroom right? And I'm talking to myself, telling me in the mirror that I am the sexiest thing walking. In fact I'm pretty sure at one point I busted out singing 2 live crew, you know, "You ain't nothing but a hoochie mama!"
So when I finally emerged from the bathroom, and tried my best to strike a pose in my sexy lingerie I was praying he wouldn't laugh. What I found was a fully dressed, right down to the shoes Hector. I remember I asked him why he still had his clothes on, while I clung to the last vestiges of my modesty. And do you know what he told me Isabella?
He said, and I'm quoting him here, "Because I'm gay. Now put your clothes on and let's go home. There's a .Barbra Walters special on Dreamgirls and we're gonna miss it!"
Now you know how they say, hindsight is 20/20 right? Looking back I don't know how I DIDN'T know. He loved all the same things I loved, it was always me trying my damndest to seduce him, his nails always seemed manicured, hell he was waaaaay prettier than I was, I should've seen the signs!
Alas, I was just too happy that a boy that looked like he did was even interested in me; a girl that looked the way I did. So I ignored all the telltale signs and was his beard for two years. I put my dress back on that night and I went home, to my house and I cut off all contact with Hector. As much as I knew he couldn't change who he loved the betrayal still hurt me deep. Right at a crucial time in my life too, when I was still trying to validate myself as a woman. I ended up loosing my virginity a year later in college to an economics student who was so happy to see real live tits he didn't care that they belonged to the Amazon black chick on campus.
It wasn't until I think, six years later? I was walking on 5th, just got finished my shift when I spotted him and his partner. They were walking hand in hand, window shopping. I didn't know how I'd feel when I saw him again. Would I be angry, jealous? I didn't expect to miss him so much! He was my best and only friend at the time and when I saw him looking up in the Saks display window I ran to him and hugged him tight. He later described it as being hit by a linebacker, but that's neither here nor there!
We cried, both of us, he introduced me to his boyfriend Paolo who was an art dealer in Europe. I went back to their Upper East Side loft with them where they fed me bottle after bottle of wine. And when we were all good and drunk, Hector confessed that he still carries the guilt from that night with him. That he was so insensitive and callous. He said he lost the best friend he ever had that night and he never ever got over the emptiness.
I apologized for letting my own agenda cloud my judgement. I told him I should have never pressured him into anything he didn't want to do. I knew he only went there that night for me and when he left that hotel room, he left it his whole self. Without any disguises just as his gay self. I told him I was proud of him and that I loved him, then and now.
It was a real tear jerker. You should have been there! Poor Paolo probably had no idea what to do!
Anyway, we were once again inseparable and to this day, I barely make a decision without my Hecah! He is my gay other half. So I had to bring him down for a complimentary workout and if he just so happened to bump into me, while I was working out with my living walking manifestation of sex trainer? Just a plus!
So when I introduced him to my sexpot trainer, he leans over to me and says, "Fuck him! Fuck him right now against the exercise bikes or so help me, I will!"
