A few days have passed, some anger remains, a touch of loneliness before bed and when I wake up, but overall, that’s about it.

Good friends can make all the difference in the world. Some of them simply listen to you yell and cry, letting you put the pieces together and finding the lessons within them, and the comfort that you can show your deepest pain to a loved one and not have them look away. Some challenge you on your feelings, forcing you to re-evaluate the reality that you had constructed through eyes of clarity. They provide validation that your anger is justified; shared experiences showing that this happens to all us women at one point or another; realization that I’ve been guilty of the same mistakes in the past, without malice, just out of fear of causing pain to someone I deeply cared about and letting things continue past their due date.

As I stated in my previous post, my head was in the clouds, it really was. While my time spent with him was beautiful in so many ways that I have never experienced before, there were many occasions, situations, events, which caused me pain, caused me to feel less than, to feel like I wasn’t there. His great mistake was to never talk about how he felt about us and where we were going before it was too late even though he always claimed he was happy, mine was similar, to not bring up the little things that irked me, that bothered me, that made me feel invisible.

Stupid thing was that my main intention when I went over to his place last Thursday was to talk about these very things. I had already thought of ending it all over the past couple weeks in all honesty over these smaller issues even though I felt love for him, or assuming they would be the cause of me to walk away from him eventually, but I realized that was just childish, one needs to talk about problems, not just run from them, and I thought our relationship was worth the work, worth the effort. This is also my first relationship as Dawn, stuffed to the gills with estrogen, feeling emotional about everything, I didn’t want to be “that” chick who harps and picks on every tiny little imagined transgression, I didn’t know where to draw the line, this is all so new that I chose to ignore them for too long.

But when I got there, he beat me to the “we need to talk” punch….

Probably better that way

A big aspect of the pain I felt was the newness of this relationship, as I’ve mentioned already, I felt things, experienced things, which I had never felt before in a relationship. The biggest aspect, and this may sound odd to some, was being able to sleep easily holding him. I’ve lived with two women already, and have slept with a few more (like actually slept, not just sex) and one big constant in my life is my difficulty in falling asleep. I would usually cuddle them until they passed out, then rolled across to the other side of the bed with absolutely no contact between us and spend the next hour lying there waiting for sleep. With him, on one of the first times I spent the night at his place, I actually fell asleep on him while we were trying to watch a movie on the couch. Almost each time we slept together I would be cuddling him and would pass out immediately with him in my arms.

This isn’t the only example of new feelings, but for me, its the most poignant, the most meaningful, powerful.

I was being taken care of by a great friend Friday night, and this aspect of our relationship came into my head, and I broke down in tears, terrified that I would never feel that again, that sense of safety, that magical anxiety-free place where I can just drift into nothingness. Took me a lot of sobs to realize the truth behind the matter.

It wasn’t him. He wasn’t some magical amazing creature that could take my anxiety and fear away with a whisk of his hand…. quite the opposite, he caused me a great deal of anxiety in other ways

It was me

This is the first time I’ve really been with someone as who I actually am, and with someone who accepts who I am (not like he had a bloody choice). The comfort wasn’t a gift from him, it was a gift from myself.

The realization of that was very powerful to me, and it spread to other aspects of our relationship which I had originally attributed to him being special, hence why I should overlook those negative aspects.

But in the end, he was a great guy in a bad place, and one of those not-able-to-talk-about-anything-serious types of people, which I know by now I simply can’t have anything long term with, who treated me well (a little too well, I forgive him), and showed me some new sights and new ideas and some absolutely mind blowing sex. Nothing more, nothing less.

I felt the things I did not just because of him, but because of me, because for once in my silly little life I am ME.

And I will feel them again.

and the mind blowing tantric sexual healing session I had Saturday night showed me that I can enjoy the same safe, relaxed, anxiety free physical connection with another man.

It wasn’t all him

It’s within me

He helped me feel these things for the first time, but it didn’t make him magical. He was nothing more than a first, and your first is always special in some ways, but at the end of the day, they’re just another person getting through their own lives.

I’m moving on



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