Hit and Quit

There are definitely situations where you just have to apply the “hit and quit” motto. Something that I should’ve kept letting be.

I was swiping, mostly left, on Tinder when I bumped into an old lover of mine. We met in Tecate, BC in a music/bike event about three years ago. I thought he was cute as fuck, even with his both upper front teeth chipped. We started chatting and made plans to go see Afroman play at The Holding Company (cool joint, nice hippies). I got there, and he was accompanied with two friends on the front patio.
I finished my cigarette before going in, passed security and went up to him and gave him a big hug. The last time we saw each other was about three years ago. He looked exactly the same, definitely older, but the same. We had a couple of beers together at the venue, danced and sang away along with Afroman. Joints were being passed out among the crowd, everyone was feeling it and having a great time.
Right after the show, that’s when everything started going down hill; believe me, it became a pretty steep one really darn quick. We started walking towards my car, when he decided to ride his skateboard and do some sharp tuns along the sidewalk. He almost ended up bursting a window from a shop, made a total fool of himself…I was so embarrassed because there were a lot of people out there…I just kept walking.
We got to his place, had some more beers, talked, smoked wax and fucked. I was having a good time, finally,  until after making out, his stomach decided to return everything that he put in…EVERY-FUCKING-THING. I passed out, just let him and his situation alone.
Next morning I woke up early, as usual. Sneaked out of the bed, grabbed my clothes and went to the restroom and changed clothes. Went back to get my vans and, for my surprise, one was way heavier than the other…Yup, just exactly what you’re imagining…it was covered and filled with puke. I don’t know what the fuck he ate the night before, but it looked like a big freaking rotten cake inside. I didn’t know whether to throw them away , clean them or kill him. Ended up going with the second choice and almost puked myself during the process.
Went back to the restroom and rinsed them, shit wouldn’t stop coming out from there. It was so gross! Like, for real, who pukes into a shoe? At this point I don’t even know if he did it on purpose, because he is kind of a weirdo..
After “dealing” with that mess, I grabbed all of my belongings and poked his arm very lightly to say goodbye; didn’t actually want to say goodbye, just thought that way I could say I tried.
As soon as I walked out the door, I ran the fuck out of there! OMG! Dude! Never again!
I immediately contacted my main dick, drove as fast as I could to my currently number one guy. On my way there, I was just thinking how much I regretted meeting up with him. Like, why did I do it, you know? I just shouldn’t have even gotten in contact with him on the first place. Should’ve just let it be.
Lesson learned though, the stinky, disgusting way. If things don’t go right, if for whatever reason you stopped talking to an ex-lover, LEAVE IT THAT WAY! It wasn’t meant to be for you to keep fucking him/her, don’t waste your time. Just avoid it, okay? (Unless you’re really horny) Not even worth it!

Ps. FYI, My vans survived.

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Second Strike Pt. 1

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We were working things out, things were still kind of on edge, but I had hope.
My friends were very worried about me, they wanted me to fly back to Tijuana, to be with them and with my family, somewhere safe. So I started lying to them and to my parents, telling them that we were broken up, that things were done aftert that fight, that he wasn’t living there at the apartment anymore.

I don’t remember how the discussion started, but I do remember, myself, being on my knees, between his legs, while he was sitting on a rocking chair that his aunt gave us; he was stubborn, and well, being a dick. After having a somewhat long of a conversation, or at least that’s how it felt like; I told him, in a calm but serious tone, that my patience has a limit, and that God’s my witness I was patient…so then I asked him  “What is it that you want? Because I know what I want, and what I want is to be with you, to be how we were,I don’t want no one else.”…he just paused and said “What I want is for you to want to leave”…my heart dropped, was in complete disbelief. After he begged me to stay, after all the promises that he made, after all the loving words that he said. I said that it was fine, if that’s what he really wanted. I went to the bedroom and stayed there, he didn’t care seeing me cry, he didn’t care the sadness that showed on my face, he got his phone, the apartment key and left, again…
I stayed in the room the whole day and afternoon packing again for the second time..I was so mad, frustrated, I felt betrayed, worthless and played…
It was night already, I was chatting on Facebook with a very good friend of mine, unfortunately she has been in an abusive relationship before, when he got back. As soon as he walked through the door, my body started shaking non-stop, couldn’t control my body, my hands and jaw were shaking uncontrollably…He got into the apartment yelling “I’m gonna make some noise!”, he came into the room, I was frozen, again…stiff as a board, he grabbed some stuff from under the coffee table that was across from the bed, dragging everything out, he crumbled a letter that I wroted for him and soaked in with water and threw in the kitchen trashcan, while he did this, he was looking at me and smiling. He ripped the curtain that separated the bedroom from the rest of the apartment, and then he tried to throw me out of the bed by pulling the sheets, which are mine, off the bed and lifting the mattress. I could smell alcohol on his breath…He went to the bathroom and started to take a shower, he was “rapping” what he was feeling at the moment, and what he was feeling was clearly hate toward’s me. I coulnd’t listen to him for another second, so I put a CD on the DVD player and played it as loud as I could. He then went to the living room and slept the rest of the night. Something that I couldn’t do because I was afraid, afraid of him maybe entering and try to do something to me in my sleep…

To be continued…