Emotional vs Physical Intimacy: Interchangeable or Interdependent?

One thing I noticed recently about my relationship with Mick is I don’t feel a compulsive need to be having sex with him all of the time we are together. In fact, my actual sexual libido is almost non-existent. I’m rarely horny any more. That could be because (when we’re together) he is touching me almost all the time and (when we’re apart) he never leaves me wondering if he actually likes me or not! We are honest and forthcoming with each other and communicate very regularly about uncomfortable things: his girlfriend and living arrangements, his tax situation (most recently), the fact that I will probably be roommates with Things #1 and #2 for quite some time yet… I expect we will continue to be transparent with each other, because that is our foundation.

Letting Go

It occurred to me last Thursday morning that, maybe I am holding back on really liking Alaska because I am holding on to Loserman so tightly.

Why? I don’t know. There is still a part of me deep inside that wants him back, that yearns for his body to hold mine against his…

More Feelings or Introspection or Something

Sometimes I wonder if I am too overly critical of my partner. (Ya think?)

I mean, I am too overly critical of myself…

Do I intentionally pick someone who cannot give me what I need and then hold them to some unachievable expectation?

Then they can never be what I truly want/desire in a partner?

Suspicious

All of the time I suspect that things are not what they seem…

…everything has a different meaning…

No one truly means what they’re saying… (I’m getting much better at this one)

Part of that is conditioning I received from my parents (mostly father). And, although I am not blaming them, I have a really tough time changing those conditioned parts of myself.

My Necklace

At long last, I received my necklace back from TC. Thank you, TC.

Is it a coincidence that it arrived on my birthday or do you think he planned it that way?

As you can see, it’s nothing much. It isn’t made of gold or silver or platinum and it doesn’t have any precious stones set into it.

It’s just a plain, ordinary necklace that I made for myself, then decided to hang in my wonderful truck, Bear. It hung there the entire time I had him (6 years).

When I had to get rid of Bear, I thought about moving it to my car, Breezy, but I wasn’t ready to see it hanging in front of my face every day: morning and night, reminding me of painful things too close to my heart. Instead I decided to give it to TC as a special “piece of me” that he would be able to keep close to him when I was far away.

Now that I have it back, I really don’t know what to do with it.

Now, it has even more negative energy and memories attached to it, and it used to be such a beautiful piece of myself.

Part of the band was mashed in a post office machine during the process of being mailed back and a few of the beads were disintegrated.

Maybe I can rebuild it and it will become more beautiful than before…

Do You Think This Was Too Mean?

After TC broke up with me, I returned the bras and panties he gave to me, along with this letter:

I probably shouldn’t have said what I did, but I am very upset that he didn’t have the grown-up-man parts to have an actual conversation with me to dump my ass. So, I wanted to be a total fucking bitch (well, not “total” – I really did hold back from “going Chernobyl” on his ass. It could have been much worse. Who knows, maybe it will be when if he sends back my necklace.)

But, at the end I was still a tiny bit nice…

And I meant what I said.

Every

Single

Word

The Beginning of the End

Read Part 1 here

Anyway, Sunday night “Good nights” were crap.

While I was in the air on my way home from my first trip to see him, TC had been reading my blog. He read the table of contents – more precisely the “Other ‘Other’ Men” page (which was temporarily removed… Too little too late. I know. The damage had already been done…). I went to bed completely hating on myself.

After such an awesome weekend with him, I wanted to have some time to swoon. But instead, this.

Therefore, Monday morning sucked. To make it worse, on top of my hating myself, TC avoided me all day long. He didn’t respond to my messages on Facebook and I think I even sent him a text. I tried to stay positive, though. Reminding myself that he has two jobs and a daughter; eventually that all has to factor in. I got used to his attention daily when, in reality, he has much more important things to deal with than me.

I felt so yucky Monday afternoon that I almost called to cancel a job interview I had scheduled for Tuesday morning. But I didn’t.

Second Sunday Good-Byes

(This was my first Sunday in Houston, back in July. I’m finishing it because I said I would. The Facebook conversation-parts have all been deleted; I still have the text messages.)

Very early Sunday morning, after sharing some very special intimate moments, I grasped TC’s resting cock and held him in my hand. As we were drifting back into dreamland, he mumbled, “Yours.” In response I squeezed a little tighter for a moment and whispered just below his earlobe, “Yes, Papi. Mine.”

I wished I could have slowed time completely for that single moment. It was so comfortable there with him, nestled into his shoulder. I was warm, sated and felt adored.

We slept until about 8AM and then TC offered to go out and get us coffee again. This time I didn’t object as I had the morning before, understanding that he needed and wanted to be able to do this for me. Also, it’s possible that he wanted some time alone.

Simple vs. Complicated

As my emotions start to clear out of my head a bit, I am less confused on some things and more on others: less about TC and more about me.

Actually, TC is quite simple here. He’s not even being mean about it. He’s just being himself and I can’t fault him for that. He’s vulnerable with me in the ways he’s comfortable being vulnerable with me when he feels comfortable. It’s only confusing to me because he can be so open, but then he becomes so closed off. It’s like a switch is flipped, turning things inside of him on and off in an instant. I am not really defending him as much as stating a fact.

Getting Along on Weekend #3

The weekend was nice, but I can’t say that I am any less confused. Maybe now I’m confused differently I guess?

Friday was absolutely lovely! It started out a bit awkward because of our fight and the fact that we’d only talked a couple of times since, but once we passed the initial discomfort, things went great.

Most of Saturday, too.

We watched TV, had sex, talked, got reacquainted with each other…

But, yet again, Saturday night got all fucked up. Except last month I was asking if he was okay over and over again and this time it was him asking if *I* was okay over and over again.