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To All The Girls I Loved Before…

Five abortions, three miscarriages, a few broken hearts and countless women whose names are unaccounted for I watched walk to their cars under the cover of night was the sum of my manhood…until I decided to change. Folks who knew me as a monster can’t understand how I’ve become the man I am today. The truth is, I’ve always been who I was, and I just had a healthy appetite for women simultaneously. There are folks that will point to my wife as the reason for my change; that’s partly true, but I also had grown tired of my lifestyle.

For most of my adult life I’ve kept women filed away in separate categories in my head, separated by what they did, how well they did it, what days they could do it, if they had boyfriends, kids, jobs, lived alone, lived with him, bi-curious, proximity to me and most important, if they had ever mentioned wanting to be in a relationship with me. It didn’t matter if I was single or attached, living with my girlfriend or a bachelor, all of this was locked away in my mind, ready for use at any time of the day.

My neighbor Mike lived vicariously through me, he would sit on his porch at the height of summer or dead of winter as women would come and go (literally & figuratively) from the afternoon to the middle of the night and on the rare occasion, the next morning. I couldn’t see a consequence to the way I was living, if you’d ask me, I was doing them a service. When I look back at it, I caused far more hurt than any thrill gained after a few drinks and couple orgasms, but that didn’t matter at the time.

We were all consenting adults and each of us knew what we were getting into at the time and the expectations were minimal. Well…except for those I called my girlfriend and pledged to love. I lied, cheated, hurt and loved them at the same time, but I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship, though I was. There was vulnerability in me that certain women were able to reach and for their accomplishment, I sentenced them to be my woman. Had they known the pain to come from that distinction, I’m sure they would’ve ran, but they, like the others, were blinded by my charm, my smile and ultimately, the way I touched them in places they didn’t know existed.

I learned a long time ago that I had a gift; people gravitated to me, there was something about my personality that drew people, men and women to me. For the fellas it was good look to be my homie, for women, the same, not to mention rumors spread in high school and college that I was a little guy, but a big guy at the same time. At some point or another, I would somehow talk nearly all of my female friends naked, 90% of the time against my best efforts, but it was a pattern that continued for a long time.

After a while, I had enough friends and just collected women’s panties (figuratively), I’m not sure what they wanted from me, I wasn’t taking the time to ask. Hopes, dreams, aspirations and that other shit didn’t matter, I just cared if you were sucking and fucking, within a two-week window. Unlike many men, there was no one woman that turned me into what I was; I did it because I could. I would always tell women that I could only do what you allow and many of them would allow me to keep extending the boundaries until there were no limits.

I’m still amazed at how quickly a woman erases her line in the sand once you make her cum a few times in a night. I’ve known women to lie to their husbands, leave their kids at the sitter, have threesomes with their best friends, my best friends, people they didn’t know, perform for my cameras, cross state lines, journey to the edge of night and never ask for so much as a promise that I would never hurt them. Maybe I just have a trusting face…

These women would compromise the standards they set for themselves during our first conversations. I heard over and over again how this one was ready for a real relationship or that one needed someone that gave as much as she did. They would say these things, but I never gave much more than a few inches of dick and a nap on my couch, here and there good liquor and buffalo wings were consumed, but for the most part the most emotion they felt from me was watching them walk to the car from my porch.

In between I spent a few thousand dollars on abortions, caught tears after miscarriages and endured being called a “motherfucker” repeatedly. I made plenty of mistakes, especially after a half bottle of Level and running out of condoms, so I took it all as one to grow on. However, I wasn’t showing my growth and duplicated my mistakes, to the point where I thought I had a problem and sought help. That shit didn’t work! I had sex immediately after my first session and settled back into the life I chose.

I rotated women in and out of my crib, in and out of my life, and in and out of bars and motels until I said enough is enough. It sounds like a scene out of a movie, but I truly woke up one day and said I didn’t want to live this way anymore. My pledge for change happened to coincide with a woman who fit none of the paragraphs above walking back into my life. I was seeing up to six women a week when I first began talking with the woman who would become my wife and thisfast they were out of my life.

Well, maybe not that fast, but I started to ease them out of the way as she and I grew closer. I think my body sent me the first message, I felt like I was breaking down and it was directly from the way I was living. I was consuming liquor like women, sleeping less than four hours a night, working hard, playing harder and I just couldn’t keep it up any longer. The pain I felt, the fatigue I lived was more than enough to for me to cease the bullshit. But she, she would’ve made me stop traffic so she could tie her shoe on the sidewalk, she was reason enough for me to say goodbye to a life I don’t remember saying hello to.


4 responses to “To All The Girls I Loved Before…

  1. AndreaM

    Your honesty is bracing

  2. Your honesty reminds me of who I was. Hypersexually is common in bipolars. It was a bottomless pit for me. The hardest part was always afterwards. No ‘I love yous’. No calling back. Just ….. good bye. Now that I’m on meds, the urges are much less often. Still, I miss being manic.

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