The CEO with the nonexistent penis

One storyline had been an ongoing story line for a number of years, even while I was dating my most recent ex. I had broken up with my ex, when I met Mr. CEO. I magically asked the world to give me the next man. And voila, Mr. CEO asked me out. He was exciting. I was 26 and he was 42. He and I had a mutual passion for art. He also lived in this highrise that overlooked the Hudson River and threatened to throw me out the window. I loved the threat that was said in his Australian accent. I was very depressed around the time we met, but depressed in this I'm so high on life kind of way. I had just gotten divorced. He also was the same way. His wife/girlfriend got pregnant during the last leg of their relationship. She left him with the baby and didn't leave a forwarding address. He was looking for her. It was dramatic. I really liked him because he didn't like long lines, and he was super smart and found ways to not have to wait. He also created his resume from figment of his imagination and created a job by moving up and outsmarting the system. He thrilled me. He broke up with me because I wouldn't choose him over the boyfriend. Then the boyfriend returned, he also returned. I know he returned instinctively because he can't stand to lose. I chose the boyfriend over him because he had a small penis. When I came to see him, he would rape me with his nonexistent penis. Anyway, the only real way he could fuck me over was in the business world. And I opened the door to that. I don't know why. I think I was trying to figure out how his world works but I was simply too naive. When I found my footing in NYC, I met him to look at his art--nothing spectacular. He was there for me only if I would fuck him. But I couldn't. It was weird. The whole thing about being loose in bed only occurs with people that I really wanted to be with.

Multiple simultaneous storylines

My move was so unfocused. Maybe it was the fault of my biological clock ticking. I turned 30 that year, and had no prospects of marriage and no foreseeable stability to start a family. I also approached life in that magical kind of way, that everything came to be because of magic. I wont deny that it's an awesome way to live. I was trying to rouse magical energy, by flitting here and there. One lover story to another lover story. Each story is creative and haunting and heartfelt in each own way. Each story had the potential to become worthy of the rights to a movie or to be published in a bestselling novel. Each story was occurring simultaneously, and it was up to me to pursue which storyline I wanted to continue.

To love and be loved in return

Looking back, I still can count the number of potential boyfriends in my head and I do so with a smile. One particular potential, I'll call him, Luke, for the sake of anonymity. Luke was very helpful in bringing me back to NYC, because we kind of liked each other and we made out post-Burningman. So he was going to visit his ex in Thailand, which meant that I could stay at his place for a month--enough time to look for a job and get re-established. My brother also has a couch, which I could stay in for a month at most. It was almost a fool-proof plan. Except, the economy tanked and it was very difficult to get a job. I also didn't really feel like getting a job. My job interview skills needed polishing and sharpening. Luke was wealthy, enough to jokingly say that if I needed or was looking for a sugar daddy, I need not look further. Perhaps, I was giving off the vibes that I was looking for a sugar daddy. But he made it difficult, like I have to work to get him. But I was also a catch in my own mind. Unfocused. To catch a sugar-daddy husband, you have to be focused. But I didn't want a sugar-daddy. I wanted to love and be loved in return.

Homelessness is a State of Mind

In 2011, I moved in with my boyfriend of four years in a town populated by 200 people. I came from New York City so the change was drastic to say the least. I still had hopes for a sweet romantic life in the country. So to start with I asked the boyfriend if we could stop smoking because it's cancerous. In response, he blew the smoke in my face. I should have known the move was a bad one, but I had no other option. The economy tanked so I was facing joblessness. Back at home, my father is a fanatic Republican who aims to make me miserable in god. I was aware of "Appearances"--creating a mirage/illusion of having it together. Why not? When life is or can be perpetually miserable...Nobody wants to hear about misery or that you don't have it together. Friends feel sorry for you but only briefly and rarely do they do a thing to lift a finger--they start to avoid you like the plague. As a woman, I can count on my good looks, available and unused womb to be a bait to men. But truth is, I had to find a good balance between being a hoe/"available" and respectable/"can keep it together". Your worth as a person is dependent on keeping it together. I think homelessness comes from having a terrible, unloving (bickering) and unsupportive family. You end up not making the best choices. But of course, I can't blame this all on family. Personality issues also factor in. Anyway, the boyfriend left me, abandoned me with his dog. I kept house for him. I couldn't just leave. I had to keep appearances, for my folks who I just left behind, who cursed me for leaving. Meanwhile, I schemed and reconnected with old friends and love interests. Upon the boyfriend's return, I was ready with my move. I returned to New York, where I had sketchy family support and a million and one potential boyfriends.