In the Beginning: the Genesis of True Love.

It all started early this summer. I was finishing up a ridiculous summer semester where I overloaded myself with courses, work and a completely inappropriate relationship. I was balancing my emotional stability by projecting a false depth/security onto this relationship so that I would not succumb to the hideous beast that my unmanageable school responsibilities had become. One day the reality of said relationship, that I had just begun to start thinking that Love word could apply to, was undeniably revealed. A few careless words and I had to accept it. Bonjour summer nervous breakdown part one. Opening ceremony me on my knees blubbering like a big idiot on the side of the running path on the Mount Royal. Au revoir monsieur "landscape architect" and welcome True Love. There were a few weeks of postponing the breakup to use him to help me with certain school projects and getting used to single life chastity, but as I was about to explode with sexyness True Love experiment number one "the tourist" comes into the picture. After the innumerable vulgar, forward and slutty things I have said to boys this does not seem too ultimately risqué, but my dear friend who has been present for the majority of my escapades insists it was something special. We mysteriously find ourselves at Parking a gay club known for its "rumored" sex room and classy cliental. I have been smiling like a big dork at cute boys all night trying to see who will take the bait. I caught one young man's eye while I was trying to dazzle his handsome young friend, who incidentally was in a relationship with their old man friend, go figure. Anyways, we make some phony conversation for a little while. I find out he lives in Halifax. I think perfect! you will be my

guinea pig to test my new hussy life style on. So I take his number and tell him I will show him around on the weekend, or something equally false. On the walk home I text him and say that if he remembers me tomorrow he gets to have sex with me. He assures me he won't and he didn't. The following evening he invites me to his friend's birthday party at Green Room where he gets me fairly drunk, touches me and holds my hand like we had been dating for a month and introduces me to all of his friends numerous times. He gets all the way party drunk himself and tells me about how there are no decent men in Halifax and he is really glad he met me. In my head I'm thinking did all those shots of vodka chased with beers make you forget the text message that brought us together tonight? What a lunatic I've gotten myself into. But. Im still brimming with sexyness that needs to get out of me, so I allow him to come home with me as he insisted. And we proceed to have sex, or try to have sex. He is physically to drunk to fuck and too much of a baby to take it like a man. He, however, insists on trying for at least an hour taking two text message breaks one of which occurs while I'm trying to insert his half-erection slinky dick inside of me. I finally get so grossed out about the whole situation that I jack off onto a sock trying to procure the sexiest mental image of his dumb flaccid dicked body and tell him to go to bed. In the morning he rushed out, probably in some intense hangover pain and extreme embarrassment. "The Tourist" has contacted me a few times since the incident, I at first politely evaded seeing him again on his visit, and then the next couple of times we spoke he proved himself to be quite an amusing young man, a real stand up guy! Who would have guessed it!

AMW