Secrets are not for the faint of heart ❤️

Alright, so you’re probably wondering what the big answer is. What did the guy in the last blog say back to me, that’s why you’re all here right? You’re all on your toes, and it’s weird because so am I and I know what happens. But you’re back for yet another week for the big conclusion to the mystery of my love life. Well, in true story suspense if I told you the answer right off the bat, 33 percent of you would stop reading and we can’t have that kind of reader decline. So, here’s what I’m going to do I’m going to tell you what I actually did months leading up to me spilling the big secret.

Was it the most healthiest way of me handling my emotions? No not at all, but the first step is acknowledging the fact that I’m no good at this shit. And drunk Ali was better and she was fully in charge of this automobile, and the automobile was my life, and tequila makes me do bad things.

First before the big finale, the big conclusion the ending of the saga that is Ali and her secret crush I think it’s time we name him just Incase there comes any confusion.

And if you’re like omg, she’s about to name drop, no idiot, fake names only.

Let’s call him 23.

Back to the story.

So yes, we gotta talk about it and, “it,” is what I’m calling my manic sexcapade episode.

The only way this secret of me liking this guy was staying in my body was for me to give my body something else to focus on. And if you know me, holding secrets in is very bad for me. I can’t tell a lie to save my life so this felt a lot like lying. I mean I technically wasn’t releasing the truth, so yeah there ya have it I’m a big fat liar.

We need to rewind time back to the moment my brain decided to like 23 and what I did to handle it. But clearly as I have stated emotions and/or secret keeping make my brain turn counter clockwise and that ain’t the right way it’s suppose to be ticking.

This is where I introduce you to my many mistakes and some of those mistakes are what we call men. And maybe I shouldn’t use the word mistakes because that may hurt their feelings, because they are all great humans. But I probably wouldn’t have done what I had done if I had spoke up sooner to a certain someone.

Let me start off by saying my father knows I’m a good girl, and we have all made interesting mistakes in the drunk world, so leave your judgement at the front door Karen.

Here I will introduce you to band boy….

Oh band boy, where do we begin… I know where we ended, shit got weird. And honestly the slapping in the face in the bedroom wasn’t the weirdest part, but we’ll get back to that.

I needed a quick fix in my life, and at this point I was still kind of not believing myself that I liked 23. I thought I maybe was just seeing him too often and my mind was tricking me into feeling some type of way. So, I did the oldest thing in the book. I contacted someone I knew I could get easily, someone I knew I didn’t have to have them take me to dinner and make small talk just someone to make me forget about 23. So, I did the whole Instagram flirt method you know liking some old pictures and it worked. I got a dm faster then you can say hot potato.

He became my escape pretty much every weekend when I left the bars running literally away from 23. Because like I mentioned in the last blog if I stayed any longer I would come clean to him and that was not happening, I repeat absolutely not happening. So, running away into someone’s bed was the only way to stop that.

You know that scene from the Goonies where chunk gets captured and he releases every bad thing he’s ever done. Well, that was about to be me. I was about to burst out secrets at the seams, so this had to be managed. And if you’ve never seen the Goonies, get educated son.

Here’s the clip below, watch for a giggle or to understand what I’m saying, then come right back so we can get down to business.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5UG7ISJfP0

I mean whoever came up with the saying to get over someone you gotta get under someone or whatever the F it is. I can tell you with all certainty in my entire body that shit is a lie. That It does not work, I’m sorry but seriously who said that because I’m going to yelp about them. All it did was make things worse for me. Band boy now had caught feelings and now I’m the asshole of my own story. I became the dickhead.

Fucking great.

I went from protagonist to antagonist, and him catching feels only pushed me closer to 23.

I mean I showed up at band boy’s house at 2:30 in the morning and he asked if I wanted to watch a movie.

Yeah, Imma have to head out.

Of course I do not want to watch a movie at 2:30 am. If I wanted to watch a movie, I would have went home to my house and probably went to fucking bed because IT’S 2:30 IN THE MORNING!

I’m pretty sure that’s the night that shit got weird. I don’t know about you but my idea of kinky is not being slapped in the face in the bedroom. Maybe some handcuffs, a little choking. Not a full on slap. I was bewildered, there’s a first time for everything I guess. And is it wrong I thought in that exact moment, “this would make for an interesting blog one day.”

Oh it is isn’t it?

I soon realized this little arrangement was not working for me. And to make things weirder, his ex girlfriend saw us together once and then became quite the stalker. You can have your man sis, I’m not interested.

I tried to let him down easy but he was very persistent. It also didn’t help his band sometimes performed at my work. I was stuck in a comedy but I wasn’t laughing, everyone else was. The big guy upstairs must have had fun giving me all these story lines.

I had to end things because this was no longer working for me and the added stress was also making me act all kinds of crazy. So here’s a shocker for ya, I told him the truth. I told him I really liked someone else and I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing with him. Apparently folks instead of running from your problems, dealing with them head on kind of works.

With age comes wisdom, which is ironic because telling him the truth is the smartest thing I’ve done in this whole story.

And the story isn’t even over, we still have the Fourth of July to talk about and that was a confusing night for me, very stupidly confusing. It has to do with a friend, whom I’ve known forever and sexual relations and no it wasn’t 23 because he ended up not being able to come to the festivities, but that is a story for another time.

So here we are back to the big conclusion….

Yes, I’m the girl that likes to sing a lot, singing about everything I’m doing calms me. I also think cats are the bomb contrary to popular belief, I like being a crazy cat lady. I like being obsessed with superhero tv shows and movies and nerding out to it. I dance all my problems away because I think dancing can make even the grumpiest person happy. I have full on conversations with all my pets like they’re actually answering me and I think that’s totally normal. I love puns and could read them all day and laugh just as hard at each one. I have this weird obsession with traffic cones, I don’t know how to explain that one. I have full on concert performances in the shower and I think raw cookie dough is disgusting and while we’re at it I hate pizza.

The point is I like being me, I like being weird and anyone that doesn’t appreciate that or take it all in like a big spoon full of ice cream then they are not the one for me.

And here I am rambling when you only want to know one thing.

Does he like me, does he not like me?

What the hell is going on with me and 23?

Let’s go back to that night, the night I emptied my whole soul and did the damn thing because let’s sing it together… I’M 100 PERCENT THAT BITCH.

I laugh in the presence of dangerous secrets and combat them with a big sword of truth.

Drum Roll please….

Well, 23 said he wanted to be my friend, he didn’t want to ruin what we had. Was I upset? No I actually wasn’t. I actually agreed with him. I felt more alive than ever now that this secret was off my chest and I didn’t have to hide it anymore. I was like a damn beautiful fucking butterfly that just hatched from a cocoon. And I had a feeling me telling him the way I felt might change a few things and not in a bad way.

But this rollercoaster ain’t even over. Because his definition of, “just friends,” I think the general public would be just as confused as I was.

Stay tuned next week!

Advice of the week:

You know how you can tell if you really actually genuinely like someone? See if you can sleep in a bed with them soundly.

#sorrynotsorry

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