Take That, Chick-lit Bitches!
Choice extracts from the Diary of Felicity Arnold
Saturday, 21/04/07
Smoked my last ciggie. I'm in fathoms-deep shit. Can't work because my mind is crawling with feelings for the one guy who is utterly wrong for me. He is fat, obnoxious, married and catholic, and morally, on the other side of the realm from me. When we hug, his belly comes between the top half of my body and him. Now I'm so emotionally entangled. The thing began as pity for poor bloke obsessed with me. Investigating the pity, I found it was partly amusement, sadistic amusement in watching him wriggle, and partly self-congratulatory, sychopant-seeking revelry in hearing him pour out his adoration for me. Now he's eaten part of my brain and left a gaping need it seems only he can fill. I spent an entire day moping in pyjamas, hurrying in the bathroom lest I miss his call. He's been calling everyday lately. But of course, he didn't call today. Had tons to do which I didn't. Worse, he's having a baby anytime now. The wife's probably in labour as I speak. God I miss the bastard.
(a little later)
Still no phonecall. Need to get out of this. I'm still pretty sure all he wants is to fuck me; that's how it started. He yearns to bone anything remotely resembling a pussy on legs, as a rule. Why would it be different now? Sharing a few jokes is tops but when it comes to brass tacks, all he wants is a rough and tumble in the sack. Grabs me to cop a feel everytime I'm too near him, and I'm the type to let him; now it's affected my brain. And EVEN if he does harbour real feelings for me, which, he says he does, but I'm doubtful of, there's no way he's gonna shake up his comfy home atmosphere, with all his moneyed crazy as coots cath. circle of friends who are crawling with kids and his utterly complacent wife who thinks (I know, I know, a bit judgemental of me) a husband is a necessary tool to help one produce chidren (the lord's little blessings), and sex is a bitter grease to necessitate the process. Aw... why wouldn't he call?
Friday, 27/04/07
That was last saturday.
Monday - I sat on his lap in 'our' cafe and confessed I'd missed him over the weekend. Let him drag me to my place and curled up in bed with his erection nestling against me and his love words in my ears.
Tuesday - Dropped keys down to him early morn, kissed him, rolled on top of him and said, let's have sex and get this whole nonsense out of the way. He refused to fuck; said 'I've waited one and a half years not for a quick fuck. I want the whole deal. Mistress. Proper. Stayed in bed four hours. Chatted online while attempting to do office hours, went to his office around 5.30, almost fucked standing up (bled a little), stayed till 9.30.
Thursday - Four hours in bed again. Then online chat. Then he came for a quick cuddle before he left home to wife, gave me four-five lovely old books he'd bought at this book stall on ----. Too short a while. I sent 'xx' as a text. then I texted 'It's been three hours since you left, and I'm still wet. x.' The wife read it. He told her (I'm listed as Dave) 'I had a water fight with this guy called Dave, and he's a bit gay is why the x.' I also left teeth marks on his shoulder - very distinct. He stopped at his garage before entering house and hit himself with a spanner type thing and made it into a big industrial type injury to cover the teeth marks. Said to me, 'Actually gpt sympathy from the wife. Tee hee.'
Friday - Today. Went to meet P--- for goodbye drinks, as she's leaving to Australia. He came in, and I had to pretend he was the same and I was the same and nothing has changed between us before everyone. I felt sick. He slipped out when I was saying goodbye to her and told me to come up to his office for a hug, but his colleague was standing at the entrance and I was feeling funny already so I said I had to go and left.
Feel sick.
He called and I told him and he said, Can I see you monday and I said I don't know and he said I won't give you a choice, I'll just tell you I'll see you monday. Then I texted 'You left the untreated corn saplings in proof 4 acetate instead of 3. Call me if you want it switched.'
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