I don’t know how to begin, so I’ll just keep writing. I’m pushing this out half-baked for the sake of not having another draft.
Things were going well between M and me. Separately, things were tough. I’m having trouble with depression and dealing with it in my body. He’s not feeling any better, and the amount of sleep he’s surviving on is less and less. But “we” were good.
He came and spent the day with me on 11/11. He kissed me. I’m sure it didn’t show at all on my dead face, but inside I was like Taylor Swift at an awards show. I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe I was hearing him say he missed me.
For the three months before, I had plugged on, been happy that he was still in my life, and I worked on myself. I knew that if I were in his shoes, the chances of me getting past what happened in August were slim. I would have gone ahead with the relationship, and I’d likely never really feel like I was enough or safe with the other person…but maybe it would work and those things would come in time. He handled it differently–he stopped it to try to take time to wrap his head around it , and then proceeded on that day when he felt that there was a chance that we could work.
In between that day and Wednesday night, I was happy but increasingly nervous, specifically about sex. Once I climbed out of my self-protective hole, ended my first (unfortunate, abusive) relationship and started dating, I sort of defaulted to the 18-yr old me doing anything I could to hold onto the guy who is now my ex. I was hypersexual without even questioning what I wanted or needed–that was the only way I’d be enough, and it made me feel like I had some sense of control.
I was like that when M came into my life, and I felt a little bit like it was bad luck to talk about sex before we even met, because he was someone I knew I was going to have feelings for from very early on. He was also clearly not an entitled fuckboy from day one.
We dropped all sexual talk after August, and in the meantime I crashed and became completely uninterested in sex. I didn’t even bother masturbating. This frightened me. One of my worst fears was having a sexless relationship and being the one shouldering all of the blame (again). In the meantime, I wasn’t going to be having sex with anyone for however long, so I could work on it on my own and in therapy.
After he kissed me, those feelings returned. That’s good. It wasn’t frigidity, it was adapting to my circumstances. But I wasn’t sure how to be sexually. I don’t know how I am–even in terms of how much I want. It’s something to explore with a partner in a relationship.
Meanwhile, I was going to be with M again. I was happy and very, very nervous. I felt like it was my first time, and I wouldn’t know what I was doing…because this was the first time in a long time that I was with someone who cared about me. I was very afraid of not being good enough if I was present and acting on instinct rather than what I thought was supposed to be sexy.
The next day, M picked me up to get lunch. After, he asked me if something was wrong the night before, because I seemed cold and distant, just going through the motions. I guess he got that from my nervousness, but I also heard (felt) that I wasn’t (good) enough, so I was upset and frightened.
He asked me if I was seeing, interested in, or talking to anyone. I said no, except for him.
I got very dopey from dramamine the night before, and he was helping me get to bed. I gave him my phone to put upstairs with me. At one point, I asked what time it was, so he unlocked the screen to see, and there was a whatsapp notification on the homescreen that said “hey sexy.”
I explained that that’s a guy I’ve been texting for a year but never met and won’t meet. That’s just him being silly. He also says “what up, milf.” I don’t say the equivalent back to him.
I told him that the guys I text are the above and the 20 yr old (who I think he might have had mixed up with the engaged guy). It’s not romantic or dating talk. I also said I don’t really initiate contact (because I often don’t respond until I have a couple texts or a “you mad?”).
He was skeptical, of course.
When the young guy asked me out after his breakup, I explained to him that I’m nuts about M and not open to it. I opened up the conversation to show M, and (with my encouragement) he scrolled back and saw that sometimes he’d text last, and then I’d pick it back up the next day or whatever. That is initiating contact, and I’m a dumbass. I really wasn’t trying to deceive him–hence handing him over my phone to show I had nothing to hide. He went back to 11/11 and saw that I had texted something like “wow, how much weight is that?” in response to a pitch of him deadlifting. I sent that text 20 minutes after he left on 11/11, which made M feel that I couldn’t keep him on my mind for a mere 20 minutes after he left.
I texted two girlfriends as soon as he left to say “omg I’m so happy M kissed me,” but 15 minutes after that I texted a guy that I saw a few times in March.
I don’t have a wrap-up to this. I’m still sorting through it, sorting through what I did wrong and what I didn’t do, trying to put myself into M’s shoes, trying to prepare for the inevitable shitstorm that’s going to happen at work (I just hope I’m not in trouble) because I was seen crying by many students, and my coworker had to cover half of my class while I pulled myself together.
He feels that I’m keeping guys in my circle so I have an emergency dick in case I “need” it. All I can say is that’s not on my radar. Sex is overwhelming to me, and the only person I’d feel safe with is M. I also don’t need “dick,” period. I will admit that it may look that way. Maybe he’s even right that I keep guys around me, but it’s not something I’m consciously doing…the only person I think of sexually or romantically is M. The two guys I talk to regularly know how strongly I feel about M and that I’m not interested in meeting up (the one guy, it’s a moot point with, because we’ve always just been texting buddies).
He feels that I don’t really see him; he’s just a pawn in my internal drama. I feel horrible that he feels that way. I think I love a person.
He says that he can’t trust me. I understand that because of the way things went, but I am trustworthy. I don’t blame him for not seeing it–I’m just sad because I want so badly to be with him, and he has no idea how devoted I am to him.
I see his point of view. I do. Well, most of it. I don’t understand him thinking that I don’t care about him or love him as a human being. And I know how I feel, that I’d do anything to work it out, and it’s just sad that he doesn’t see it.
He said I was disgusting. That’s a familiar feeling. Not from my ex-husband (apart from the “extravagant rejection” aspect). Neither one of us ever talked that way to each other. Too “polite,” I guess.
He says he’ll forget me very quickly. I guess that’s for the best; I’m not looking to hurt him more. Same isn’t true over here, though. I’ve bounced back in time before, but it it’s different with him. I’ve only been in love twice, and this one will haunt me for a long time as well.