I have written about you before.
Being Adam, you were my first. Perhaps that is the reason you had a longstanding hold over me. One that had me allocating time to you which belonged to others. Time waiting for you in rented rooms plied with alcohol and endless selfies. But, we should start at the beginning shouldn't we. Valentine's day 2016 creeped up on me and I had a boyfriend for the first time in history. I was perplexed that I had a man. At the same time I could feel the paper thin connection that we had. I replayed the first time that I spent at your place where we dry humped for what seemed like hours on end. The whole time other things were acing through my head. That right there, that should have been the first sign. The first red flag. It wasn't that I was having second thought about the situation at hand. Rather, it seemed that remembering where I left the book I was presently reading was more important than a living person on top of me. And yet here I was. Car parked in your driveway on Valentines weekend with my parents assuming I was spending the night at a friend's. I had bought you a material gift and presented myself to you in a way that I had yet to do with another man. The desperation you harboured did not leave much room for my enjoyment of the moment. I convinced myself that this was a mandatory part of having sex for the first time. It wasn't. It isn't. With every sexual encounter we had it became more evident that we were only doing the dance in order for you to prove your dominance and sexual prowess that you would ultimately brag about. There were no romantic whispers in the dark asking if I was comfortable or if I was okay. No, for all the experience you had proclaimed that you held, I felt like I had the misfortune of being a living, breathing sex toy merely created for your benefit. Dry as a bone. That is all I could remember when thinking about our sex life. And so years later when you called and asked if I wanted to give it another shot, the sex and not the relationship, I agreed. Bestie threw her toys and made sure I was aware of the disapproval. At this point though you and I had both been with other people and I was certain that the sex would be better. In reality I just wanted to make sure that I was not lying to myself about not enjoying you. I spent two evenings in a hotel room desperately trying to convince myself that I could fix it. Fix this. Fix that. Because I hadn't been committed to anyone since you. Perhaps if we could get past this, we could get past other things... Alas, it came to an end and we parted ways for the second time. For the last time.
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hulisaniIntersectional Feminist. Hopeless Romantic. Lover of Life. Archives
January 2017
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