Welcome to another oneitis page. This is a page for in-between my adventures, which will set up some of my future adventures to come.
It was back in 2016 when I went through two experiences with the “one that got away.” Ok, the two that got away. Shit, add in The Wife at the end of 2015 and that makes three in less than one year. Fuck me. And each girl had something in common with one another: The pedestal. Fuck me³. I was clearly doing something wrong here. Falling in love too easily/quickly was certainly to blame.
I have grown a lot over the past two years. But just don’t confuse grown with grown up. Because au contraire mon faire, I’ve only displaced my anger and disappointment with myself and rolled that into what is shaping up to be a romp for the ages. I can’t think of a more productive use of my time, in fact.
Lisa Cintella and Meg Watson believe that I need to process these feelings in a more productive way by integrating my split off selves in order to evolve to David Shepard 4.0. This is getting wayyy deep here. Furthermore, before resolving any of that nonsense, remnants of the pedestal still loom large in the unconscious, putting any such integration on hold for the moment.
Another small detail here: My pedestals won’t completely leave me alone either. Oh, and I won’t exactly let them. Meet The Doctor. A text to Blart signals a perilous path I’m choosing after I got a notification she started following me on Instagram:
That was all from The Doctor, and you already know about Pearl. She can find me no matter where on the grid I am:
New York City, or any city for that matter, is never far enough away. I try to play a little hard to get with her:
Because it is a game:
I fully mean this just to play more games. Just a little cat and mouse with my pedestal, that’s all. Yes, pedestal, but being in a relationship is not my end point, especially with her damaged brain. It may be as simple as I don’t get a high with regular girls like I do with the pedestals, or it may be a deeper kind of psychobabble.
Whatever the case is, my games got cockblocked one day by my dumb ass old fingers not knowing how to use this stupid Instagram app when all I wanted to do was to stalk her pics:
And here’s the gaffe on display:
So, now that the cat was literally out of the bag, I figured ‘fuck it’, it’s time to get my dick out of the pants. Pearl played along nicely:
The forecast calls for cum showers. But all this just left me craving more:
I didn’t like the way I phrased that. Let’s try again:
After that request was met with ghosts, I turn up the juice with a drunken text during the following week:
Pearl texted me later that day:
I remember feeling nervous to open up the message:
Lisa offered some feedback on that one:
But, this train is not slowing down. The next week Pearl and I still continued our chat:
Philly was not boring in the slightest. But I could totally have gone for a spot of Pearl then, now, and, really, at any time.
What is my take away from all this? Well, of course, I would like to fuck Pearl. But I also feel the same about half the women I see. And although I do have some residual feelings of unwanted business with Pearl and The Doctor, I’m not in any way seeking a relationship or have a specific endgame in any of this. If anything, this helps me chill and keep my rate of communication in check. But fucking their brains out, preferably at the same time, is clearly an objective of mine.
On the way out of this episode though, I did have a special message for The Doctor. I recalled a conversation she and I had and related it to my current circumstances, which definitely helps me keep future pedestals off the pedestal…and ironically tries to seduce a former pedestal to re-enter pedestal status:
There is some work on myself I need to do here. But, enough with these pedestals for now. I need to go back to spending a little more time with my girlfriend #3, Cape Cod. Because a lot more has been happening since we last left off.