No longer hopeful

I fell in love once before this time. I recall the day I fell out of love. He looked quite a bit like B. He was 8 years older than me. I was 22 and he was 30. He was born in September.

I had never loved anyone like I did him. When he betrayed me, I was upset but I couldn't possibly just stop loving him. So I took my time. I let it sit. I continued like nothing had happened. I even talked about my issues with him. It seemed that we were getting closer and growing closer. I even went with him on a nice holiday to Jamaica. He proposed. I did not say no.

I loved him like we could restart after his betrayal. I loved him like there was no other way. But when I was apart from him, I grieved and cried and I sought others for distraction. Eventually, I stopped crying. I stopped feeling sad about it all. I stopped wanting to be with him. And one day the hurt stopped. I cauterized the wound. And when I was finally read, I told him. I remembered telling him that it was time to move on, and he thought we'd be together forever. He told me that he loved me and no other. I told him that it's time.

It always takes me a lot longer to get over someone.

I had cried and cried. I had felt sorry for myself. I thought I could be taken back. I thought there was no other way.

And one day I woke up I stopped grieving and starting to live.

I feel now that's the eventual outcome between B and me. I can feel it. He' the only adult love I have ever felt. I began to believe that I could never find someone to love me back. I began to believe B would never love me back the way I deserve to be loved. Then I started to believe B was using me. I stopped having hope. I cried over the loss of hope. I no longer see a future with B. I could no longer imagine being with B. He had hurt me so much so, that now it's all just inertia at work.

I told B that I no longer believe that person who could love me the way I want to be loved back existed. I stopped believing in him. I have lost faith in him and me. I no longer believed that he could give me what I wanted. I lost innocence once again. When all hope is gone, the only thing I could feel is calmness. It really is anti climatic. I had carried so much sorrow, so much sadness when the first love and I broke up. For years I could never recover. I was finally at a place where I could feel again. B brought all of that back and then just like the first man he destroyed it all. Now I have no hope no more additional sadness. Grieving is a lengthy process.

We must go on. At some point. That girl who loved once and then twice has died. What's left is a rational, highly productive person who's life is no longer complicated or filled with dream. It's all just reality show. No one needs to know, all of the sadness, one day it'll be all gone too.

There used to be such a woman

He came over. Unexpectedly. She wrote him off. Finally she wrote him off. Like he did not exist. But he did, and she knew it too.

She had wanted to tell him this:

"I loved you. With all my heart. I thought I wanted a future with you. I thought if I just tried hard enough, I'd win you over. Like you'd be mine, completely. We'd have a future. But I've tried three plus years, I have tried, over and over again, but I failed. I have never loved another man like I have you; I have never tried as hard as I have you, yet here we are. All broken. I'm broken. I cannot be put back again. My heart is permanently broken. If I had felt any sense of weakness in wanting to still be with you, I remind myself how betrayed I felt when I learned that the week I wanted to go to you, to spend it with you, and to celebrate your birthday with you in another town, you instead shacked up some other woman you don't even care, and had sex with her over and over again. After I've sent a bouquet of fruits and chocolate, delivered to your work. After you've sent me video of you opening it and be delighted by it, yet, you fucked another woman. All week. You told me that. After, many months after. You hid the fact you had another child, I get all that. I understand why you did not tell me now. I asked you if you'd be willing to introduce me to your child's mother. You told me that she'd be devastated. What about me? Do you think I have no feelings? Do you ever consider that I might be devastated too? Do you even care at all about me? Do you think you could just betray me over and over again and expect me to take you back and love you unconditionally? Everyone's got a limit. I have reached mine. That's why I fell back. I had nothing, no hope, no expectation of you. I always love you. You are my first true love. I love you like you are my own skin and bones. I love you and I'd do anything for you. But I cannot suffer any more. So I severed the emotional me from the rational me. I had to let go of all my hopes. There is nothing left but the day to day, the occasionally booty call, the occasionally passion, the little bit of staying together, naked, in bed, and pretend everything is a-okay. I've given it some thoughts, I've concluded I don't deserve to be loved the way I need to be loved. I don't deserve it. There is no one out there for me. I don't want you like I used to want you either. I want nothing from you. I will focus on things that I can control. Things I can improve on my own. There is no beginning. And there is no end. I'm fine with it now. I'd like to stay that way."

But she gave him a different version of it. A much lighter version.

He hugged her, naked, in bed, he said, "I love you. I love you. I adore you. I will never get enough of your body. I will always want to fuck you. Even when you are old. I love your body. Your scent. You have a scent. Around your neck. It's sweet. I like it. That's how your pussy tastes. I like that too."

She does not understand why that is. She has been told that she had a scent. He liked hers. He misses hers. She missed the way he smelled too. She knew, deep down, this is the only man who would transform the way she smelled. He was a good that way. He brought the best part of her out, and he brought the worst part of her out as well.

He wished that they were never apart. When they were younger, they dated, but then they drifted apart until 15 years later. She told him, "I know why. You told me that you'd see me in two days, but you never called me. I was young. I had options. So I wrote you off." He said, "It was because something came up." She said, "No. I was warned of you. You were a player. I didn't want my heart to be broken. So I never followed up with you. I just decided it was time to move on."

They lay there afterwards. All spent and satisfied. He then had to get up to leave. She asked what he was doing this weekend. He said that just work. Kids stuff.

She was leaving for work the next day. She wished that he could come. He then leaves the following week. For the same state.

She did not to ask him when they'd see each other again. She knew better to have any hopes at all. She knew also time has come to pull back like she once did in her twenties. Except this time is harder. But at the same time, she understands herself more to know she's much more deliberate this time.

For she fell in love with man and he was her first love. But first love is just that. It's the first but very rarely the last. She knew that as well.  

Good night sleep

When she saw him, he said, softly, "I'm tired, I've not been sleeping."

She looked at him, naturally, leaning her petite frame against his, "But why?"

He said, "I don't know. It's been a couple of days. I think I'm coming down with something."

He looked concerned.

He would not kiss her. For he was worried about getting her sick.

She just wanted to be held.

So he held her.

"Can we order in tonight?" He asked.

"Sure." She did not care to walk that evening. She was surprisingly, tired as well. She did not tell him that she's not been sleeping well either.

He asked her to search for a restaurant using her app. She had a few. But she could not decide. So he called their favorite Thai place. They delivered.

She thought to herself. This reminded me of my ex husband and me. Living in New York. Even this apartment looked like her apartment in Midtown. Big bay windows, which she liked, two large bedrooms. Large living room, a small dining area, and a useful galley kitchen. Nothing special, but surprisingly functional. Hardwood floors. Of course hardwood floors.

He made her wearing slippers. Red ones. He bought for her. She did not like them. But then she learned that he did not like the way she walked, or rather, stumped. He was a quiet man. He prefer her to be quiet, light weight, tiptoed and never wear shoes inside. He did not like it when she screamed as she orgasmed either. She was surprisingly easy to come when she was with him.

She talked non stop when she was with him. He never did talk a lot. Eventually she stopped talking much around him either. He liked to read news. He checked the weather. He surfed the net. He read non fiction books. He was not very talkative. He was a very simple man, she's decided. He liked to grab her ass, that was one thing that was unusual about him. That part did not add up. She'd say, while maintaining largely satisfied with their relationship.

The food came sooner than she had expected. She and he ate, at the dining table, quietly. He and she discussed about the food, the spiciness of their dishes and the quickness of the delivery.

It was less than a mile on foot. They had done that walk many times over.

They brushed teeth and got into bed at 10:30. It was his bed time and it was too early for her. She lied awake while he fell asleep. Holding her hand in one hand and cradle her tummy in another.

In the morning. His alarm went off. He had to move her car by 7:30. Construction was going on and he was worried about her car getting towed. He arrived back and got into bed again. She was half asleep, she said, "I did finally sleep well. Please sleep with me. We need to sleep together more." He agreed. "Yes, I finally got a good night sleep too. I did not want to get up at 7 to move the car." He returned to bed, embracing her. "You must like me. Will you miss me?" She asked in one breath.

He was to leave town to go home for his father's 90th birthday He's the youngest of the eight. "I will miss you." He laughed. Then he said. "I do like you." She was satisfied. As long as he maintained that status, she could handle. Just not love. Love she could not do.

"Did you sleep okay?" He asked of her as she was drifting back to sleep This was the only man who actively took care of her and made her feel she was thought of, and often.

No one else did that for her. She liked that. She also liked how she could not figure out what it was that attracted her to him. It was not his looks though she liked his frame. Tall and very lean. It was her gut instinct. He brought her flowers the first night they went out. He was the only one who took her in and gave her what she needed: attention, adoration, and a good night sleep.

the merrits of sleeping

I find that the most comforting thing in life is certainty. I am certain that I'm not going anywhere. I'm certain he will not leave anyone for me. He is not mine, for instance. I'm certain I like the things they are. I am certain of all that.

And then, I'm certain I have an emotional connection with T. I have a fun interlude with N.

And I have nothing more to ask for but a good night sleep. Which T could provide for me.

And there is not much else beyond that.

Work. Work out. Sex. Sleep

There is no end to a beginning

I've officially sunk into a depression. Call it depression or an awakening, I don't care. but I no longer hold any hope. When you finally let your heart die, it is never a quick death, it's a slow and uneventful death, when you stop hoping, when you realize that there is nothing left for you, but to move on, to try to figure out what it is that you want, then you realize there is not much else out there after all.

Gone were your sexual intrigues, gone were your adventures, gone were your enthusiasms, gone were your faith. You have saturated your life, you yearn nothing, you wish for nothing, gone were the rest of this world. Gone were your ways, gone were your life, gone were the reason you were alive.

I always thought that if and when I stop loving him, I would die and wither, but I did none of that. It just ended. Like if I don't ever see him again, or write to him again, or hear from him again, I'd be okay.

I have done everything I could, and loved him and I got nothing in return. He was no one that I had recognized, and I was no one that I could recognize.

Days become weeks, weeks become months, and eventually months become years.

Life is like this. One moment, I'd do anything for that person, one moment, you could hardly recognize who you were, and who he was.

My sadness is so profound that I could not function in public, but I enjoyed 1:1 interface.

Enter T. T was an interesting person. He's a lot like M in some ways. I found solace in my interaction with T. I like sleeping with him. We do walks. Long walks in Inner Richmond, eating out or just walking. Going to the beach. Ocean beach. He plays music. He has a lot of friends. He introduced me to his friends. They like me. They were happy for him. He was happy to have me. They think I'm good for him and good to him. I even get a key to his apartment. I get to stay over whenever I want. I'm his girlfriend, for all intents and purposes. I cried in his arms, I told him everything, and I am not looking for anything, not even an exclusive relationship.

Enter N. N is like my twin. He's beautiful, and laid back, smart and unassuming. We do so much together that we might as well be married. I spend weekends with him. I talk to him on the phone. He's also tall and thin. He knows I'm not interested in a relationship but we still hang out.

Both men and I are not physically involved. We just simply do things together.

I like that. I like that I can be who I am, and I can keep my space.

The world is not real or hopeful any more. I don't want anything from anyone. I turned off calls from other people. I have no interest in socializing with any others. I like being at home. Alone mostly. I like being left alone.

I hope to never hear from MB again. I would like to simply disappear. Like the old me never existed.

I finally learned why it was so easy for me to move on. I severe my past. I simply act like I don't remember it had ever happened. And when enough distance and time passed, when I could breathe again, I would remember that version of me, filled with hope, and thought love could last forever. Love could conquer all. Love did nothing of that sort. Love simply disappointed and hurt and destroyed that old me.

In therapy

I'm content. For a long time now I've been struggling with many aspects of my life, mostly related to relationships, and I'm finally content.

My therapist thinks that I have a lot of energy and that I tend to light up the room, and that if I want to maintain relationships I need to not be all so interesting but be more interested. That I should tailor my behavior with different people. Little does he know, I've already done that. I do it regularly, but I also need to feel that I can be myself.

I'm not myself when I'm with T. He takes good care of me but I think he is too quiet and subdued. N is very energetic like me but he's also very self centered and I don't feel the same sexual chemistry with N even though technically he's my type. T is not but I like his personality more. I get along better with subdued midwesterner who speaks very little. N and I can talk all night. He's like my best friend.

I used to think MB was the one. I loved him. I had never loved someone for that long. Then when I learned that he had another child with the same woman, and when I pressed about being introduced to his friends, he bulked. He was worried about hurting his children's mother's feelings. On the other hand, he has no idea how much he has hurt me by saying that, and he in fact has showed his hand. All those years that I believed that he loved me, instead, he loved others, certainly not me, he lied to keep me around, so in the end it became very anticlimactic, all those deception, for what, so that he could continue to get laid by me?

It felt so rather pitiful. After he returned from Vietnam, after I learned that he had another child, I lost my desire to be with him. It's not that I stopped loving him, it's that I stopped hoping. There was never a future with him. He chose not to be with me. Since then, I stopped seeing him as someone who I loved. I loved a version of him, I did not love him. He was never mine to begin with. There was nothing to fear. I never had a chance.

The therapist asked me if I was seeking and searching and I said, yes, I am searching. I wish, I wish so hard, one day a man will love me, and take care of me, and show both emotionally and physically he desired me. He then said, "what would you do if he is there what if you meet and find him?"

I looked at him, and I said, "I don't think I deserve to be loved. I don't believe anyone like that exists for me." He wrote down notes.

This is what remains to be true. I'm thoroughly, 100% heart broken. I stopped believing in love. I honestly believe no one would love me. T sometimes shows that he feels for me. Like he likes me more than just like. N is very dependent on me. But I don't believe they can love me. I don't believe anyone can love me.

I stopped dating. I don't want to date any more. I keep on getting propositions by men, but I think it's because they just want to have sex with me. I don't care for that.

So I stopped having sex with men all together.

I don't believe that a man who desired me, who loved me, who showed physically and emotionally that he was close to me, and who wanted to spend time with me, existed. I believe that my opportunity was gone. I had been cheated, and violated and hurt by MB and I loved him so much. So now there was never going to be a chance for me any more. If I tried so hard to will a different future and failed, what can happen now?

I remain positive with my life. But I have stopped hoping, searching and I have stopped my heart from bleeding.

All is well now you see.

All is well when your heart is permanently shut. 

going to bed

At half past ten, after we had taken our usual walk from Clement street back to his apartment, we went to bed.

It was easy to fall asleep with this man. He's very thin. He wraps his body around mine, he touches my hair, calls me names and then we go to bed.