166. cupcake

The word cupcake stands out so much to me when I hear it when id be a typical girl around scotty.. like scream at a spider and demand him to get it.. or when I’m asking him to do something. Id kiss him consistantly calling him my hero over and over until he got annoyed and push me off.. he would always say “listen here cupcake… my sugar fucking plum” he’d make me smile but I always ignored the rest of the sentence like I couldn’t hear him. Then he’d go on and on with the cheesy nicknames making them up as he goes until I showed him attention. On with the entry..

This past week I have been ripping my hair our.. crying constantly.. and shoving my emotions down with alcohol and pot.

And I must say now the pot has been this biggest help ever. When I am stoned I lose sense of caring about the whole scotty situation. Yet at times I still dwell on him.

Scottys youngest daughters birthday was on the tenth. Around that time the whole week was confusing. I was getting texts from scotty saying really mean things. Things I knew he would never say to me unless I did something horribly wrong to him.. which I hadn’t. But it seemed so real. When he said these horrible things through the text messages each time I sent one back saying call me and tell me yourself. But he never did.

Just yesterday I texted him where did his heart go.. and the text back was lose my number.

Since I got that text. I went off. I mustve sent him fifty text messages throughout the entire day. Pulling him apart with my words piece by piece. And when he didn’t respond I kept sending him more and more.

Over a course of hours his phone was off. And when it was turned on he read half of the texts I was sending him. Told me he doesn’t know who I think I’m talking to but I need to stop.

And that sent me over a cliff. I kept going and going with more texts sending in five messages back to back. The last words I said were how do you sleep at night scotty because I can’t.

Twenty minutes later he called. I didn’t want to answer but I did.

There was no yelling. Barely any words at all. But he asked to come over. And I agreed. He came over and I felt horrible like I wanted to puke. He rolled my weed in a blunt. We smoked and he said he missed me..

When I told him it didn’t sound like it from all of those text messages.. he told me he never sent those.

I was pissed. I told him I’m sick of her. And he keeps telling me he puts his phone up. Or whatever.

I stared out my window.. there was no music playing all I could hear was myself breathing and the wind blowing.

He grabbed my knee. I still looked out the window. Then he grabbed my face. Kissed me for twenty minutes. Then I pushed him off and told him to go. He kept asking me when I was leaving for florida.. and he asked to come over this morning to see me.

I didn’t believe him.

He called me this morning and told me he wasn’t going to make it. When my face scrunched up so pissed off I started swearing at him. And tell him I’m sick of him. Then he told me he will leave my house then.. and there he was in my front yard. I opened the door for him. He held me in my room. Kissed touched me. Fucked me. Got me off. Then held me longer. And when he had to go he kept kissing me and saying he hopes to see me one more time before I left.

The sex wasn’t even five minutes. I hate that shit. He wonders why he can go six hours and wonders why he can go five minutes. Ugh! Maybe because we haven’t fucked in over two weeks. Now when I come back from florida it’ll be even less time.

Love you all I have to go to therapy. What a fucking week. I’m glad we made up tho. I’m glad I’m laid and feeling better. Florida tomorrow. I will read all of you and note you guys. But I probably won’t update for another week. Loveeeeeee

-L