the anger, the regret

I told him some really fucked up shit. THE ANGER. THE REGRET. Part one:

I had already hinted at trying to slow things down, break things off with Love on my birthday. My damn birthday, right? Geez. But I only barely introduced the idea because I didn’t want that clouding my day — we had planned this day. Still had the best birthday ever!

Two days later, I cemented the idea that I wanted to taper things down (taper, giving the idea that this was like drugs and we probably shouldn’t stop too quickly, and that it would be easier if we just did less and less.). He looked at me like he didn’t understand but he understood, he had to.

I said it was because I didn’t like the holidays. He asked me why but I said that I just didn’t. I told him I wanted him to focus…focus on his closing of his home. It was a family event…family…and I had explained this part to him several times, even over the summer when I tried to break up with him. I wanted him to enjoy buying his first home, fixing it up, have Thanksgiving, have Christmas…while I…dealt with myself. He had been working really hard. I didn’t want to be in the way. I wanted to try something different.

This day that I am speaking was Friday, October 7th, 2016.

He agreed to taper it down to once a week, instead of the almost everyday that it had been. Yes, I have been seeing Love 5 and 6 days a week, typically, for several months. I told him once a week was too much. He told me he was still going to call and “check on me.”

We made love so intensely…He is the best lover, ever. And our hearts are connected. Our spirits our connected. We are like one cosmic burst. But this time, this was the last time. I would never, ever have imagined this in a million years.

During the act, we spoke of having kids, again (this was a continuation of a conversation that took place during my birthday love session). He stopped, pulled all the way back, stared at me, I closed my eyes, he said aloud to himself, “How selfish am I?” (He is referring to the idea of getting me pregnant. Again, this is a continuing conversation.). He comes back to me and says to me:

“If you want my child then cum for me.” (There is a story behind that one, too.).

I say, “I can’t cum twice.” He looks puzzled, then smiles. I tell him when. Then he says to me slowly,

“You are my lover. You are my love. Forever.”

I’m totally lost in the moment. I mean, I’m on another planet, with him, like I am every time he is around.

He says to me, “What did I just say to you? Tell me what I just said.”

How do you talk when your Love is stroking you and is saying stuff like this?

I repeat to him slowly, “I am your lover. I am your Love. Forever.”

We already loved each other and had made those declarations over the summer. We told one another we loved each other all the time since. He told me ALL. THE. TIME. I mean, when I say this, I mean, he would repeat it back to back on some days, in chains: I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you. He would say it as we made love, or as we stood up hugging, or as he stood behind me, as we were trying to get out the door so he could leave. I would be like, wow, holy shit.

He says one more thing, which I cannot bring myself to repeat here because I think I’ve said enough. I will tell say that the sentence ended with,

“…and this won’t be the last time.”

But it was the last time. *tears *so many tears

Do you know what it feels like to evaporate off this Earth, melded with a person, like they have climbed into your body and you have pulled them in and surrounded them with life? This is what sex was like with him, but this time, the power was off the wall. It felt like convulsions. His body strong, the force strong. I held on.