Had not seen him for a while. He was waiting. He showed me his new running shoes. He pulled me in to kiss me gently. Then he pulled my panties off my stockings off and spanked me hard, leaving hand prints, He then entered me from behind.
Always the same sense of urgency, always the same way to fuck me. Always, the same. It's been nearly 4 years. It's been 4 years since we've been together. The same romance. The same urgency, the same feelings, but deepened, like true love.
This feels like true love. A love story that has suffered it's fair share of headaches. A love story of a life time. I wished him to live a long time. He said, only if you live as long as well. What if he dies? What if I die prematurely? Can I go on? Can he go on? What if I would but I'd never be the same again? What if he would but he knew a part of him would be gone forever?
He held me after and told me how much he loved me. Thousands of my photos yet he still finds me beautiful. He has never felt this way before. He liked women, he likes women, but he loves me. He loves to kiss me, to fuck me, to talk to me, to go to dinner with me, to be close to me. When he fucked me there was a sense of urgency like he has not fucked for a while, or that he needed to be inside of me to feel real. There has been so much that had happened. I continue to struggle and he knows it too. He wants to know if I'd slept with others. I tell him no. He tells me that he's not been with other women. I don't believe him. I think he stopped telling me because he thinks that I would be hurt. He asked me if I would be hurt. I said, "yes." So he shielded me from that information. I told him that I knew he still beds other women. I knew because leopard does not change its skin. I know him well enough to know that he will always want to fuck others.
But he loves me and me only. If that's hard for others to understand, it's not that hard for me to understand. In truth, if and when I did fuck others, he was always at the top of my list. I'd drop anything for him.
"Why are you so good to me? You've always been so good to me." On this occasion, he asked that question. I said nothing this time.
"You know I love you. But I guess I have to show it." He adds. "Yes you do need to show me." I answered back.
In truth I know that I am now finally in the driver seat. I'm okay to let him leave me moving forward. I am okay with him no longer existing. I have seen the one outcome that I never thought I'd see, and that's the outcome that I don't exist in his life and he not in my mine, and I'm okay with it because in my looking glass, I saw not him with me in the end. I saw not him because my heart has been broken one too many times to accept the possibility that he could one day be mine.
In a way, when I don't look into my soul, and yes I do that when I finish yoga, I see a future, a happy one without him. But when I do look into my soul, I see profound sadness where he did not return to me as he was never mine.
I baselined myself. I have nothing but profound sadness. And there, I sat. And waiting for sorrow, sadness and agony to pass over.
Always the same sense of urgency, always the same way to fuck me. Always, the same. It's been nearly 4 years. It's been 4 years since we've been together. The same romance. The same urgency, the same feelings, but deepened, like true love.
This feels like true love. A love story that has suffered it's fair share of headaches. A love story of a life time. I wished him to live a long time. He said, only if you live as long as well. What if he dies? What if I die prematurely? Can I go on? Can he go on? What if I would but I'd never be the same again? What if he would but he knew a part of him would be gone forever?
He held me after and told me how much he loved me. Thousands of my photos yet he still finds me beautiful. He has never felt this way before. He liked women, he likes women, but he loves me. He loves to kiss me, to fuck me, to talk to me, to go to dinner with me, to be close to me. When he fucked me there was a sense of urgency like he has not fucked for a while, or that he needed to be inside of me to feel real. There has been so much that had happened. I continue to struggle and he knows it too. He wants to know if I'd slept with others. I tell him no. He tells me that he's not been with other women. I don't believe him. I think he stopped telling me because he thinks that I would be hurt. He asked me if I would be hurt. I said, "yes." So he shielded me from that information. I told him that I knew he still beds other women. I knew because leopard does not change its skin. I know him well enough to know that he will always want to fuck others.
But he loves me and me only. If that's hard for others to understand, it's not that hard for me to understand. In truth, if and when I did fuck others, he was always at the top of my list. I'd drop anything for him.
"Why are you so good to me? You've always been so good to me." On this occasion, he asked that question. I said nothing this time.
"You know I love you. But I guess I have to show it." He adds. "Yes you do need to show me." I answered back.
In truth I know that I am now finally in the driver seat. I'm okay to let him leave me moving forward. I am okay with him no longer existing. I have seen the one outcome that I never thought I'd see, and that's the outcome that I don't exist in his life and he not in my mine, and I'm okay with it because in my looking glass, I saw not him with me in the end. I saw not him because my heart has been broken one too many times to accept the possibility that he could one day be mine.
In a way, when I don't look into my soul, and yes I do that when I finish yoga, I see a future, a happy one without him. But when I do look into my soul, I see profound sadness where he did not return to me as he was never mine.
I baselined myself. I have nothing but profound sadness. And there, I sat. And waiting for sorrow, sadness and agony to pass over.
