I went to bed last night after having brought myself to two swift and powerful orgasms. I panted and moaned under my breath and released with a quiet whimper throwing my head back into my pillow. I imagined him over me, his huge cock plundering my insides, watching me with that satisfied smirk that he likes to wear as he sees me lose my grip on myself.
But when I opened my eyes I saw only my whirling ceiling fan, dark and dizzying above me.
He is gone. I know it in my soul.
He stopped by yesterday and before I could keep my little one from reaching the front door it was already swung open. My baby asked The Neighbor if he’d like to come in. I said, “No, honey, TN is busy.”
“Then can he come over later to play??”
TN and I looked at each other over my child’s head. I was apologetic. So was he. “No, Peyton, I can’t,” he said.
“Well, ok! Just lemme know when you can!” and with that Peyton ran back inside to watch TV.
“You’ve just been asked out on a date,” I said to him with sadness in my voice.
“Yeah… and I just said, ‘No.’ I’m such an asshole,” he said with a grimace.
I stood there looking at the man I wanted so badly to feel something for me who resolutely refuses to do so.
“So, I saw our sick neighbor today,” he continued. I looked at him inquisitively. “She was trying to cross four lanes of traffic off of the sidewalks.” I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this, but I stood there with him in the doorway curious nonetheless.
“Also, I need you to help me with a mission later.” There it was.
“What is it?” I asked. My heart stirred, my gut clenched. This was the starving person at a soup kitchen about to take whatever she could get.
“I’ll tell you later,” he said slyly.
“No, tell me now,” I insisted.
“I want you to help me pick out patio furniture, like, if you have an hour or so sometime this week we can go to the store.”
This would have been terrific fun for me a month ago, a ripe, juicy peach running down my chin and throat after running across the meadow with friends, but in that moment it felt like a rice cake stuck in my craw. An entire week of my life had been spent being distant from him and he was impervious to and completely ignorant of it. He thinks I’m still at his beck and call; nothing is awry in Neighborland.
“Why do you need patio furniture now?” I wondered aloud. He’s lived there for 3+ years without.
“For when I have someone over who smokes,” he replied matter of factly.
I felt the wind being slowly squeezed out of my body, a limp balloon. In the year I’ve known him he’s had three people over: me, Vanilla Ice, and 4 am girl. He’s planning on feathering his nest for another woman, was my first and immediate thought.
“Who are you going to be having over who smokes?” I boldly asked.
Silence hung in the air as I could see his wheels spinning, searching for an answer. Finally he said, “Do I need to hold up a mirror, Hy? You smoke.”
I didn’t believe him for a second. Not even a millisecond. He wants me to help him make his place more welcoming and comfortable for the other women he plans on bringing home. Not me. Give me a motherfucking break, dude. Really?? You want to get patio furniture for the woman you insist you don’t love? The woman whom you spend time with only when you need something from her?
And then I asked him about the mat. “What the fuck did you do to it?? Did you kick it?”
“Don’t worry about it,” was his reply as he righted it, the “Welcome” still backwards. “Now, don’t think anything about this, ok??”
“Yeah, don’t worry. Thanks,” was my dry response.
“So, will you help me with the furniture?” he followed up with a smile.
“Um, maybe. We’ll see.”
“It’ll only take an hour or so.” (It so wouldn’t, by the way.)
“Yeah, maybe,” was all I could muster. I couldn’t look at him three feet away and give all my cards away. This is a poker game of high stakes for me. I either blow it by going all in now, or I play conservatively and slowly earn a pile of money. I’m going the route of the latter. I want this to happen to him over the course of weeks, like it did with my best friend. Politely distant, I reminded myself.
He knows Peyton goes to my ex today. This is where the real work starts. I am horny and lonely, my soul is sore. I will be vulnerable, but I need to remind myself that change is uncomfortable by its very nature. I can’t expect something better if I stay where it’s comfortably painful.
I have to dig deep and live in memory. Memories of the good times, like when he called me “baby” and kissed me tenderly and tucked me in, when he told me I was the best lover of his life or when he said I was his best friend. Those memories will assuage my loneliness as I touch myself and writhe with desire alone, or maybe, with another man. The memories of the bad times — when he told me my very life history is a liability and all the times he disrespected me and held me at bay — will keep me focused as I step further and further away.
I am not a pathetic woman and I refuse to behave like one.
My libido is treading water right now. A constant companion in my life I’m trying to figure out where to put it. How do I handle this separation and loss this time around? Last time, as this blog is testament to, I hunted and prowled and got drilled by as many cocks as I could manage. But am I still that person? Am I truly dissolute anymore??
I sometimes feel that raging confusion of lust and pain mingled together where it feels like only a man can stem the bleeding, but my relationship with TN thus far has kept me from that avenue. What would he think of me if he found out I was racking up notches on my poor, disapproving bedpost? But now, I no longer care what he thinks of me and the gate has been thrown open.
This morning I woke up and ran my fingertips over my body, once again mourning the loss of my love and the opportunity to share myself with him. My swells and dips lightly toasted marshmallow, warm and sweet, inviting. There for the taking, yet refused again and again. How can he not want me??
I’m thinking about it, my need. It’s lurking. A slumbering dragon. For now Mother Nature has bought me another week of solitary contemplation, but next Monday I will be set loose. Who will get to see my breasts, taste my skin, feel my heat and hear my moans??
It can’t be TN.