Lunch. Hurried steps. E was waiting. I had suggested to go to the Ferry Building because I wanted to pack some walk in my daily routine. I wanted to lose 10 pounds. I'm not heavy but I want to lose weight. To look better.
Bought lunch for the both of us. Sat outside and soaked in the sun. E said that he'd not seen me for a month. I didn't realize it's been that long; it's not exactly one month. I saw him just before fourth of July. It had been sometime, certainly. I saw him usually once a week.
The price to pay when you had to maintain a relationship. Even if it's a side one. I liked E because when I was with him, I was happy. No sad feelings. no wondering why or how. He was never going to be mine, and I was never going to be his. It was a casual relationship at best, one that lasted over a year, and it'll probably last even longer, if I let it.
I realized that I had anger issues. I really hated B for having told me that he loved me. It was manipulative and disrespectful of him. He should never had lied to me and made shit up like that. Toying with my feelings was the first of many mistakes he had made. And I couldn't stand the thought of having fallen for that.
E was calm and collected. He'd been stressed with work. He'd been working on a lot of work stuff. There were personnel issues. They lost three employees. He was always very driven. He told me for the first time that he majored in math in college. I had no idea. He was going to be an engineer, instead he became a finance person. A successful one at that.
I was happy that this year when he'd be at Burning Man I'd be in Stockholm, where he spent his youth. When I would return, he'd be returning as well. Last night I looked up the dates for Burning Man for this year. I thought to myself - how did I ever become interested in such an event? Because of E. He went there every year for ten years. It was part of his make up. Thus it affected me as well.
Even a side relationship required maintenance. E had many guy friends who were married and also had side relationships. I asked how they usually work out. He told me that "they don't usually work out. It's usually short lived." One guy would see his girlfriend twice a week. "That's a lot of work." I commented. He agreed. "Unlike ours. We are so casual about it." He said. When we started to see each other, we saw each other two three times a week, then it became once a week or once every two weeks, when he and I were traveling, we'd go for about a month without having sex. We'd still make time for each other, to have dinner or lunch, but we didn't always fuck. We liked each other's company. I was low maintenance, self sufficient and completely understated in our relationship. I didn't brag, did not bug him, did not insist on seeing him, I let things be. But I made effort to try to get together with him. When he flaked, he apologized, and I just listened and let go. I did not require much to be maintained. All I needed was some level of dependability, some level of communication, some respect, and the actual sexual act. I realized that perhaps that was how every relationship, side or not, should be. No heavy emotional declarations. No failed promises. No disappearing act.
Again, I was very angry with B. I had never been so angry with anyone but him. He was often gone two months at a time. I never heard from him, when I called he never returned phone call. He never talked to me, and then when he saw me he told me that he loved me and he wanted to be with me always. That was a lie. A damn good lie. An outrageous one. I couldn't believe that I believed him and thought we had a future together. I had never met his friends. I had never heard of him talking about his friends. He never let me in. He treated me like a whore. He had never given a damn about me. Yet other men did.
When I finally had enough in February of this year, my therapist told me that perhaps he did feel, he had genuine feeling for me, she said. I remembered shaking uncontrollably, I said, "No, he did not. He never gave a shit about me. He couldn't possibly cared about me. Everything came out of his mouth was a lie."
Even E. Who was only in his early 30s, did that. He let me in. I met his friends. More than once. He talked to me about his wife, his life, his family and his travels. He told me what he did over the weekend, what he was up to and how his work was affecting his life. I knew enough to know what he was up to. We spent more time apart but when we were together, we were happy; we shared lots of things in common, and no one was wondering what it meant. It meant not that much. Just that we liked each other's companionship. And I loved that. I loved that we never made a big deal about being together for a year, and he never promised anything and not delivered. Under promise, over deliver. That was the key.
Oh, how Scandinavian of us!
I dropped a piece of celery on my black suit, it landed on my left chest. E took his hand and removed it, gently, brushing against my breast. I put my legs which was dressed in fishnet stockings under his thighs, to stretch them out. He grabbed my legs, squeezing them tight.
Under the broad light, among all city dwellers, we sat on a bench and chitchatted away, to catch up and to plan for our next meet up. He acted like that I was with his lover, and in that brief moment, I believed that I was indeed his.
Bought lunch for the both of us. Sat outside and soaked in the sun. E said that he'd not seen me for a month. I didn't realize it's been that long; it's not exactly one month. I saw him just before fourth of July. It had been sometime, certainly. I saw him usually once a week.
The price to pay when you had to maintain a relationship. Even if it's a side one. I liked E because when I was with him, I was happy. No sad feelings. no wondering why or how. He was never going to be mine, and I was never going to be his. It was a casual relationship at best, one that lasted over a year, and it'll probably last even longer, if I let it.
I realized that I had anger issues. I really hated B for having told me that he loved me. It was manipulative and disrespectful of him. He should never had lied to me and made shit up like that. Toying with my feelings was the first of many mistakes he had made. And I couldn't stand the thought of having fallen for that.
E was calm and collected. He'd been stressed with work. He'd been working on a lot of work stuff. There were personnel issues. They lost three employees. He was always very driven. He told me for the first time that he majored in math in college. I had no idea. He was going to be an engineer, instead he became a finance person. A successful one at that.
I was happy that this year when he'd be at Burning Man I'd be in Stockholm, where he spent his youth. When I would return, he'd be returning as well. Last night I looked up the dates for Burning Man for this year. I thought to myself - how did I ever become interested in such an event? Because of E. He went there every year for ten years. It was part of his make up. Thus it affected me as well.
Even a side relationship required maintenance. E had many guy friends who were married and also had side relationships. I asked how they usually work out. He told me that "they don't usually work out. It's usually short lived." One guy would see his girlfriend twice a week. "That's a lot of work." I commented. He agreed. "Unlike ours. We are so casual about it." He said. When we started to see each other, we saw each other two three times a week, then it became once a week or once every two weeks, when he and I were traveling, we'd go for about a month without having sex. We'd still make time for each other, to have dinner or lunch, but we didn't always fuck. We liked each other's company. I was low maintenance, self sufficient and completely understated in our relationship. I didn't brag, did not bug him, did not insist on seeing him, I let things be. But I made effort to try to get together with him. When he flaked, he apologized, and I just listened and let go. I did not require much to be maintained. All I needed was some level of dependability, some level of communication, some respect, and the actual sexual act. I realized that perhaps that was how every relationship, side or not, should be. No heavy emotional declarations. No failed promises. No disappearing act.
Again, I was very angry with B. I had never been so angry with anyone but him. He was often gone two months at a time. I never heard from him, when I called he never returned phone call. He never talked to me, and then when he saw me he told me that he loved me and he wanted to be with me always. That was a lie. A damn good lie. An outrageous one. I couldn't believe that I believed him and thought we had a future together. I had never met his friends. I had never heard of him talking about his friends. He never let me in. He treated me like a whore. He had never given a damn about me. Yet other men did.
When I finally had enough in February of this year, my therapist told me that perhaps he did feel, he had genuine feeling for me, she said. I remembered shaking uncontrollably, I said, "No, he did not. He never gave a shit about me. He couldn't possibly cared about me. Everything came out of his mouth was a lie."
Even E. Who was only in his early 30s, did that. He let me in. I met his friends. More than once. He talked to me about his wife, his life, his family and his travels. He told me what he did over the weekend, what he was up to and how his work was affecting his life. I knew enough to know what he was up to. We spent more time apart but when we were together, we were happy; we shared lots of things in common, and no one was wondering what it meant. It meant not that much. Just that we liked each other's companionship. And I loved that. I loved that we never made a big deal about being together for a year, and he never promised anything and not delivered. Under promise, over deliver. That was the key.
Oh, how Scandinavian of us!
I dropped a piece of celery on my black suit, it landed on my left chest. E took his hand and removed it, gently, brushing against my breast. I put my legs which was dressed in fishnet stockings under his thighs, to stretch them out. He grabbed my legs, squeezing them tight.
Under the broad light, among all city dwellers, we sat on a bench and chitchatted away, to catch up and to plan for our next meet up. He acted like that I was with his lover, and in that brief moment, I believed that I was indeed his.
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