Dear Diary,

Sorry I have been MIA this week. I may or may not have been locked up in an imaginary sex tower with my bunny for the past seven days… umm reading that back has a serious bestiality vibe, so let me clarify: my bunny is a man. A beautiful, funny, tattooed, nerdy, Adam Levine-lookin’, yummy ass man. A man you want to be locked up in an imaginary sex tower with for seven days. Is it hot in here? Woohhh, girl, breathe. And in the words of T-Swift, “CALM DOWN!”

Kennedy, aka the Cheeky Chick

I love getting lost in the beginning. Like you’re getting to know this other random human that you never knew existed before, and it’s just so much fun! Well, it is for me until reality sets in, my bubble pops and I freak out, and I don’t just freak out, I FREAK OUT! In a matter of seconds, I go from “Hold me bunny boy and never let me go” to me running down the hallway of my apartment, arms flailing all over the place, screaming, “IT’S ALL TOO MUCH, I’M SURE THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU!” The good thing about this one is that he digs my kinda crazy, so this isn’t just hilarious for him, it’s a challenge that he is stepping up to accept. Another notch in his straight jacket belt.

We talk it out and decide we need boundaries, our own time to hang with friends, watch our favorite shows, or enjoy a few chapters of our current books, alone in our cold, empty, depressing beds so that we don’t just become consumed with each other. Boundaries officially SUCK!  It’s been days since I have seen him, and between not having any more shows to binge, recently quitting vaping and not having sex in days, I’m going a bit insane. Let me paint the setting of the person I become when he’s not around. A troll — I look, smell and act like a troll! Picture this …

(time to really paint a picture)

Once upon a time, there was a troll named Kennedy. She lived in a stunning fourth-floor apartment (her troll hole) that would cause her out-of-shape body to wail and grunt loud noises until the very top step. When she first moved in, she thought that having to walk up four flights of stairs (because of the building not having an elevator) would be a blessing for her booty, but in this reality, it was a curse. She threw her front door open, thankful for leaving the air conditioning on low, as her body pours sweat from an intense and hellacious climb up the stairs of doom.

Kennedy drops everything in her arms and begins shedding each article of clothing on her sticky body. She kicks off her flats, then the blazer (floor), and then the pants (floor) — normally the pants are ALWAYS off first, unless she wears a blazer. The blazer restricts her movement so much thanks to the tape-like skin her sweat has caused, that she can’t physically bend past her waist. She rips off her top (floor), then experiences the best and most freeing feeling IN THE WORLD. Kennedy reaches back and frees the tatas as the last restricting article of clothing, the despised bra, hits the floor. The troll has been released! She has a short-lived moment of euphoria skipping to her bedroom naked and free that comes to an immediate halt the second she catches a glimpse of her euphoric display and body in the mirror.

She hobbles over to her hamper and puts on her favorite T-shirt coated with old butter stains that smells like last night’s greasy pizza. Then she tosses on an ex-boyfriend’s over-sized, torn, paint-stained sweatpants and makes her way to the couch where she will not move from for the foreseeable future. Dinner is served, and it consists of popcorn, mixed nuts (most of the cashews missing, her favorite) vegan ice cream bars and flavored seltzer water. Currently binging the show “Suits,” studying every feature of Megan Markle and hoping that one day it will pay off for her and she can snag her very own prince charming, but in her case, Shrek will do!

At this point, there are nutshells and popcorn in her hair and on the floor around her, the room has a slight odor from the not so silent toots she’s been releasing, the lights are dim, she is buried under chocolate fingerprinted blankets, and as she picks up the bowl of popcorn to lick the butter from the bottom, she snarls to herself, “I guess these boundaries aren’t so bad.”

And I lived happily ever after! THE END!

HA, HA, HA! Look, at the end of the day, having boundaries wasn’t sooo bad, but one day he will see me release the beast, and when I do and he sticks around, then all boundaries will be out the window! I am locking him in my closet, and it will be him never to be heard from again, just a bunny and his troll, locked up in my sex tower of boundary-less…..EVERYTHING!!! (wink)

Till next time,

Love always,

Kennedy xx