How did it start?
We planned to make love. He wanted to eat my pussy for hours before giving me his cock! And I wanted it. Prepared by shaving my everything’s, doing my hair and generally making sure I was sexy.
Before we got into anything though?
I had been thinking about a comment made on my blog about sex. (But… The SEX!) In general, I’d already been thinking about how sex was affecting our ability to make decisions about the truth of our relationship.
I’ve been told what I did was a woman move. Like that is a bad thing. Whatever.
I stopped kissing and looked at him. I said, “I know things have been weird. We’ve been so disconnected but we reach out to each other through sex. I love you but I’ve been holding back my heart from sex because of our situation. Tonight? If we do this? It’s because I made a choice to give you back my heart. This will be making love and I need to know you’re all in.”
I’m a bit lost on how it went after that but we didn’t make love. We argued. He packed. I wanted to die. There was back and forth texts about it all before I passed out from wine and my meds. Kinda hoping I would die.
He came back and broke in to see if I was really dead. He slept in the bed.
I woke up this morning to him here and was thinking WHAT THE FUCK? He woke up, we argued more.
Then he hit me.
There is a lot I can tolerate. Name calling, swearing, having to support someone financially….. but I won’t be hit.
I was in that kind of relationship once. I learned if they hit once? They hit.
And that was our last fight. He is gone. I will not let him back. I have people around me watching to make sure I am left alone. Cops are always available as a last resort. But I don’t think he will come back.
It’s over now. Great sex or not, no one gets to hit me.