Being the sane one in an asylum does not make you crazy.

It’s hard to talk about my wonderful night last Wednesday with Mr. Young, the sexy dad from the birthday party, without wincing.

It’s gone completely sideways since then and I spent most of yesterday in tears.

At the pool surrounded by chubby, drunk sun-worshipers, in my car running errands, watching Golden Girls, talking to amazing, patient, incredible friends.  I couldn’t stop the flow of emotions.

I felt worthless, unlovable, all the while being eternally fuckable and disposable.   Something shifted.  Our banter was gone, he bailed — as I’d suspected he would — on tentative plans we’d made for no good reason I could discern, ignored sexy pics I sent and generally stopped engaging.

At the time of writing this he has seemingly ignored my last text for more than 24 hours.  A text wherein I expressed disappointment and understanding about him cancelling our plans and some hope that we could reschedule.  He chose not to reassure me or reschedule.

I didn’t want to fall down this rabbit hole, but the last 24 hours found me here anyway.  Did I say something wrong?  Was I wrong?  Did he not want to fuck and have two orgasms?  Did he not want to devour each other on his couch?  Did we click too much?  Did he not want me to show enthusiasm about a next date??

His kisses were searing and perfect and his sense of humor and openness disarmed me and hooked me hard.  I wriggled on the line.

We talked on the phone every day he got back from his high school reunion last weekend and couldn’t wait to see one another.  When our Monday night plans to meet got foiled we were immediately back at the drawing board to make it happen.  Nothing was going to stop us.

I met him in real life, opened up, we have mutual friends beyond the mom-friend we share, and everything beyond were spot on (politics, life, sex, relationships, outlook, art, and on and on and on).  This was not supposed to happen with him.

What I expected was a continuation of what was happening before I undressed under his hungry eyes, prior to sinking slowly, deliciously down onto him and him cumming and cumming and cumming.  I didn’t think his second orgasm would throw a wrench in things, but it was after it that the record scratched.

I forgot my bra in my discombobulated departure — it was late, we’d been drinking, I was high on the experience — and awkwardly texted him about it the next morning.  He didn’t say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring it when I see you Saturday.”  He hasn’t said a lot of things thereby saying everything.  I’m writing off the bra.

This is not an example of yet another woman making a mountain out of a mole hill.  I am a master at interpreting human behavior and there has been a change.  My default is to assume it was me, but after attacking myself for being too easy, unlovable, and a raging moron I am now at a more peaceful place.  Things are not actually in my control at all times.  Sometimes, shit happens.

Everything I wrote the other day remains true, which makes this tough fall down feel ultimately beatable instead of impossible.  I am dusting off my skinned knees and beginning to rise.  I got knocked down, yes, but I get up again.

For instance, I feel patient, not desperate; I’m going to sit this one out for a bit until I feel like I’ve recovered enough to step back on the field and ask him what’s happened.  And that’s new: me sharing that something wasn’t right for me.

His actions have been painful to endure, but I don’t ascribe any nefarious motivation to them.  Something happened, I’m just not privy to what and I don’t need to waste a second more of my time trying to read his mind.  I need to process it and move on.

We weren’t [securely] attached enough for this to feel anything but very wrong.  We’d barely gotten to know one another.  You can judge me and say I fucked him too soon, but what’s the point?  Next guy I might wait a month or two and it still might not be right.  I can’t take it back.  I thought it was the right thing to do.  I wanted it.  He wanted it.  But clearly, it wasn’t a good idea.  I see that now.

So here I sit with a big mixed bag of emotions: three weeks of excitement and hope about a man I could see easily incorporating into my life; a night of fantastic fun, fucking and frolic; followed by days of confusion and icy distance.

Maybe our story continues.  Maybe he’ll come out from under his rock and tell me something that draws me back in, that makes this all go away.  Or perhaps our paths no longer cross.

Whatever the outcome I feel immensely reassured at my resolve and clarity.  I know without a doubt which way is the right way for me and it isn’t on my knees begging for attention.  Nor is it to pretend that this didn’t hurt.  It’s standing tall and expecting a certain level of care.  No exceptions.

It stings like a motherfucker, but I’ll be ok.

 

 

*Blog post title care of a kind Internet Boyfriend.

 

A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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13 thoughts on “Being the sane one in an asylum does not make you crazy.
  1. I seriously don’t understand this shit.

    I mean, online dating, okay, it’s a crap shoot. Especially if they’re young and haven’t learnt how to use their big boy words yet *eyeroll*.

    But ‘dude you met out in the real world and with whom you have mutual friends’?! Like grown up dad-guy?

    I DON’T GET IT.

    And then I tend to go to ‘oh shit, maybe he was in an accident’ because I just… cannot bring myself to believe that some grown-up adult person wouldn’t have the grace to say ‘sorry, I’m not able to do this’ or ‘hey something happened, can’t talk for a while’ or just… something. But they don’t have the grace. Or the maturity. Or the basic human empathy. Or any of that. And that makes me so fucking sad.

    Ugh. And hugs :(.

    Ferns
    Ferns recently posted…The beauty of submissive men [Repost]My Profile

  2. I don’t either and it’s exactly why it hit me so hard. THIS was the way out of my dating cycle according to everyone everywhere ever. I need to meet a man the old fashioned way, through friends, common interests! Welp, it’s off to a rocky start so far!

    I could stew for days over this trying to figure it out, but I’ll just wait for him to reveal what’s going on and not waste my energy on it. It’ll all be clear eventually, I hope.

    I’m glad my message came through clearly. That this isn’t about drilling down into the minutiae but about how in dealing with my feelings of confusion and rejection.

    You’re always the best my friend. xx Hy

    PS: will be DMing you on Twitter, domme-mother. You’d be proud of me!

  3. I don’t think it had anything to do with you. He just suddenly had to actually make a decision. Most of the time one can sort of fudge on decisions, but not when someone wants a direct and true answer to a clear question. He may have ‘issues’ that you and I can only speculate on with no real information that we could count on to be true.

    I say let it go and if he returns be careful. He might do it again.

  4. I don’t think it had anything to do with you. He just suddenly had to actually make a decision. Most of the time one can sort of fudge on decisions, but not when someone wants a direct and true answer to a clear question. He may have ‘issues’ that you and I can only speculate on with no real information that we could count on to be true.

    I say let it go and if he returns be careful. He might do it again.

  5. “You can judge me and say…”
    Hy, no one should judge you. You are a grown woman and can do as you please.
    My experience is that the guys who don’t like a sexual woman don’t deserve the rest of the woman. You ARE sexual. It’s Ok. No, it’s more than Ok, it’s perfect because it’s YOU.
    No one should make you feel ashamed for being you.

    So if a guy can’t handle you being sexual, then goodbye. You’re better off realising this now than in two years.

    He’s not the one for you. But he taught you a valuable lesson: you are worthy. And when something goes awry, you have a right to assume it isn’t because of anything you did or said, it is simply that this wasn’t meant to be.

    Doesn’t make it any less painful to experience, but at least you realise you don’t have to beat yourself up trying to figure out what to do to please another potential mate. You just need to be you.
    If they don’t like it… too bad. For them.

    This reminds me of my experience with Terry. I thought we had something. After our first date/night together, he just never replied.
    At least by then I was secure enough that I could just realise it wasn’t me.
    And in hindssight, he was right. We wouldn’t have fit together.
    He could just have been less of a jerk and said it out loud, rather than go ghost on me.

    You will be fine Hy. Becoming aware of something is the first, most important and didficult step.

    You WILL find the perfect one. Because you now realise what you’re worth.

    (Sorry, don’t want to sound too preachy. Not my intention. Gotta go though, so no time to read again and adjust the tone…)

    XO

  6. It is likely much more about him than about you.
    He got cold feet. It violated some religious or moral rule that has been imposed on him. He is seeing someone else. Something is going on in his life or mind that he had not shared with you, and he is avoiding admitting that to you or having to face the issue.

  7. No judging here at all, you did what felt right. We’ve all been there. No shame in showing emotions. Keep going forward sweetie.

  8. Sigh. I agree with your friends above — it’s not you, it’s him. Something happened in his life/brain that caused a short-circuit. I think you are taking the right approach and back away with dignity and not waste any more precious brainpower on him. If and when he reappears, than he’s got some “splaining to do.

    You are handling this fabulously. Yes, you have your self-doubt (we all do in this situation), but you are fighting it tooth and nail. Well done! Many hugs to you, an amazing woman who deserves better.

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