We tried to make love today.
We really did.
I don’t exactly know why. It’s been an incredibly long time. We had talked a bit in the last few days, TOIL asked me if there was ANYTHING, any chance there could ever be any rebuilding. It got me thinking. I haven’t thought so for so long now. But we like each other. He is still my best friend. I just have huge issues surrounding forgiving someone for visiting the worst pain, disease and the most selfish bullshit ever on you. I can’t seem to let it go (cue music….)
That shit ain’t love.
I couldn’t do what he did to me to my worst enemy – and I really mean that – even HER. I just don’t get off on hurting people, even if it seems like revenge is justified. So how can someone do what he did to me, still loving me, and then stop doing it, just like that? I will never be able to get my head around that. I know it was a slow burning brain explosion, but you still know right from wrong, hurt from love, how-to-roll-a-condom-on – surely?
So I decided to participate in an experiment to try to “just have sex” – no lingering lovemaking, just a physical release. It was crap. I still can’t feel anything – and I don’t mean deep, emotional intimacy, I mean actual physical nerve-ending feelings. It was okay, for a while, then I realised that I wasn’t going to get to O. Not that that has to be the destination, but my GOD it has been a long time, and it would have been a gigantic bonus. He was instantly erect, straining to hold himself back, and he tried all his tricks, pressed all the “usual” buttons, stroked, licked, kissed, probed all the ….. In his desperation to “get me there,” he lost his hardness – and seriously, this guy used to be hard about 80% of every day, I’m sure, lol – but carried on, trying to get something at least a little “nice” going on. He came fast, and he was gutted, as he wasn’t even fully hard before it was all over. God, we have turned into fucked up teen fumblers all over again. It’s embarrassing. It really is.
During our playing, he tried to enter me a certain way, one of his favourites (and one I know he could never do with Ms Vanilla, as she is too boring, wouldn’t try anything other than missionary, maybe a cowgirl or two, and once she gave him a BJ – ONCE, in fifteen months, still shake my head over her uselessness – so it wasn’t that I was not able to because SHE did that) I just pushed him off, and turned into a different position.
After is was very unsatisfactorily over, we lay there, entwined, staring at the ceiling. He apologised (his usual behaviour since I lost the ability to be normal and have one – yep, even if just one of the multis I used to have – of my famously earth shattering orgasms, which I used to have every time – and totally took it for granted, not knowing that sometimes that didn’t happen to everyone) which irritated me – he knows this, he knows I hate when he apologises for unsatisfactory sex. It’s not his fault NOW that I can’t enjoy sex. He is tender, patient, loving. The reason I am screwed (pardon the intended pun) is that I have weird history, and eventually that history wore me down. I then told him the reason I can’t participate in the position we both used to LOVE is that the pressure on the part of my anatomy that was ripped to shreds, inside and out, during my rape is the part that is most vulnerable when in Old Fave. He was gutted, and felt terrible. But it isn’t something you discuss when things are good. We were able to do all of that for the first 25 years of our relationship – I am (was) really sexually adventurous, and nothing was a problem, even the “scary” positions, a bit of light bondage, that kind of thing, it NEVER bothered me. And my rapist had me completely pinned down, and I thought I was going to die as I couldn’t breathe. I know he asked me about all of that when he found out about my rape, about three years after we had moved in together (he was really worried that he had put pressure on me when I wasn’t ready, as he had no idea about the rape until then, and we had done some CRAZY sexual shit!) But back then, I was so hot for him, and so totally infatuated with him, there was no pain, no discomfort, no fear. But now I have it. Crazy. I am broken in yet another way. I had a little trouble for about a year after the birth of our first child with the same position (huge episiotomy scar – scar tissue on scar tissue) but that eventually came right with gentleness, and perseverance.
I cannot remember EVER having a bad sexual experience with him. I mean, never. We were pretty damn well matched. If things went a bit pear shaped, we would roar laughing and try something new. But all these years later, I am so broken, and it is a big part of my inability to plan a future with him. I feel like we have tried everything to try to fix me, and I am really broken. I used to be able to indulge in a little high-quality self love, but even that doesn’t work. It isn’t about him specifically – he keeps telling me that I will be okay with a better partner, one who hasn’t broken me – but I don’t think so. If that were true, surely I would feel attracted to other men, or be able to fantasise enough to O alone. I just don’t want it anymore. Love, sex, any of that stuff. I think I have had my fill of it, and eventually it made me sick, so I don’t want anymore. Somewhat like the alcoholic spirit we may have been sick on as a young, experimental drinker – I can’t stand the smell of bourbon, for example. I don’t feel the need to try it again!
Why did I try, yet again, to fix what we haven’t been able to fix for nearly three years? I think I still love him, but that love isn’t enough to get me over the line (oh, so full of dirty words and puns today, aren’t we, Paula?!)