All that is
Ad 2:
2010-01-26 02:57:35 (UTC)


Of all the times i've spent the night with ben, yesterday
was the strangest. not strange in the account of things,
but strange in my feelings afterwards. one of the worst
sleeps ever too. before i actually slept, i didn't think
i'd ever be able to fall asleep that night, my feelings
were so raw. put blankly, i think i hate him now. but then
again, knowing me, this intensity might only last till the
end of the week. or night. i'm eternally forgiving.
ironically this virtue happens to be the pain of my life.
My hamartia.

things are clearer than they'd ever been. of course things
had always been clear. always been made clear on his part,
in his own man-like way. but i hadn't really come to terms
with it. actually i don't even know if that's been the
case. It's been like ive known, but i've let him carry on.
partly because i was enjoying it (the sex of course) but
also the kind of self sacrificial vibe of it, in some
bizarre campaign of self punishment. what the reason for
punishment is, i'm not even sure. but i liked it. it was a
turn on to know that he could fuck me whenever he liked.
it's no secret (to myself) that i get a rush out of being
slightly pressured into sex or sex acts, and maybe
eventually forced..(!) I like for whoever he is to hold me
down really hard with his forearms (preferably muscly) by
my arms or my hands or my chest, my neck as they do me. I
push against him, trying to come free but his strenghth is
far greater mine and i'm literally powerless. i absolutely
love it. and i love it even more if they enjoy it.

he texted me on saturday and i was like 'yeh we should
start at a bar first thou... and he was like no, in the
bedroom first.. then i was like when? and he said when i
find free time... and then i thought that was it but when
i went out, he texted me saying where are u? i was
like 'im in oldstreet' and he was like come down on the
northern line...then i didn't reply and he said 'you got
another date?' to which i replied 'another date... errr
no.' and he texted back saying so come down after. i didnt
reply. then he textd back again around 1 or 2am, to say 'u
coming down?' and then again later on to say 'no? i wanna
fuck badly etc etc...' then on sunday afternoon he texted
saying 'tonight?'x i didn't reply as i had no cred and had
period cramps... then when i got cred, he textd again
saying 'where've u gone?' and i then i replied saying i
wasn't feeling well earlier. how's 9? and he replied
saying wonderful. (yes, of course). then he came to pick
me up. (what's annoying is that before xmas and just
after, i had literally rid myself from the hook of ben
anderson. a rather long process i'd say, and (perhaps,
sadly) one involving brief infatuation, and eventually
disinterest with and from another guy. i hadn't thought
about him in a long while. and i held the cards too. then
i was sucked back in. literally.) the whole threesome

we were undressing eachother as soon as we stepped in the
front door. started in the car though, he put a hand on my
thigh to say he liked my tights, then kissed me at the
traffic lights, and pulled over while i gave him head.

The sex was acrobatic. like a dynamite. quick to ignite
and explosive. here's where it all starts to go downhill.
That's as good as it gets or will ever get for us. mad
half an hour sex sessions. afterwards, we should both say
goodnight, because the minutes and hours which follow are
slow and boarder on excruciating. for me, and most
probably for him too. He was doing the laundry instead of
wanting to maybe hang out with me. what more is there to
say? he was doing laundry instead of paying me attention.
anything to try and avoid that. i am to him, the what the
occasional internet porn session is to me. deliciously
filthy, virtually addictive, the be-all and end-all, until
you cum. afterwards, and literally seconds - minutes
afterwards, you're disgusted by it, judgemental and almost
hateful of the people, who, minutes earlier you were
hooked by. you want to get as far away from it as
possible, as quick as possible.

the thing about casual sex is that it's thrilling and
you're enarmoured, until you climax. after that, the
feeling of flatness, loneliness and quite possibly in this
situation, resentment and disgust quickly follow. and i'm
not sure if i'm just imagining it (or whether it's a mild
projection of my daddy's perception of me, onto him) but i
can sense his disgust, his disapproval, his disappointment
(at the person he now see's, compared to the person he
thought i was when we first met all those months ago). i
can feel his judgement. i can see it in his face, refusal
to go beyond anything about me,other than the surface.
why? i don't know. does he not want to know because he'd
feel guilty? does he not want to risk giving me false
hope? is he just not interested? cos seriously he never
asks any questions. not even the obvious - like so why
don't u want me to come round? and thank god, i guess, cos
i wouldnt wanna get into that, but still. or even when i
ask a question that so obviously is set up for a question
in return, he doesn't. and u can see it in his face (when
he's not turned his back or something) that it's very
calculated. very purposefully done. he avoids eye contact
when doing it too. like when he was cooking something for
us to eat, and i asked him what his faveourite food was
and he answered with no remote interest or appreciation
for my interest in him (this being, again, calculated to
avoid a conversation which might resemble that of a guy
and a girl getting to know eachother...?) and with his
back turned to me, and i felt his right shoulder rise up
slightly, and his head lower a little more, concentrating
on the chopping, no facial movements, just stiff. and he
answered 'sushi and maybe italian... '

Then about and a halg hr later, we had eaten his
(surprisingly delicious)pasta and watched unusual suspect,
i suggested we watch porn together. and he put some on.
and we laid on the bed watching it. about 25mins into i
start getting frisky and i start playing with him and on
him. he gets hard, and i'm happy. then i start doing
something else which i think would really fire him up, and
i move my hand to his dick, only to feel he's gone soft,
to my surprise. he doesn't get hard again after this and i
complain. and he says 'sometimes you can't get hard again
straight away.." and i was like it's been like 3 hrs...
then he was started to get off the bed and said something
like 'i'm tired, had a long day.....' trailed off. he
didn't come to bed for like 45mins. he was doing something
online - booking a flight to copenhagen for his best
mate's stag do i think. i wondered if he was slightly
offended or if his ego was bruised by what i'd said
about 'no not all men...' which was why he left the bed.
but basically when there was nothing glueing us together,
like a tv show or movie or something, he was doing his own
thing, not asking about me or talking to me. i don't know
if it's just me or if he's usually like that. but i
probably know the answer tho.

Then when we went to bed, and he asked are u ok? and i
replied with a 'hmm' and he paused for a split second as
if wondering if he should probe further, before deciding
against it and laying back down. he wouldn't lay anywhere
near me. he even made a kind of spatial divide with the
duvet, tucking the part of the duvet between my side of
the bed, and his, beneath him. like a kind of cocoon or
something, meaning our bodies could not even brush. he
didn't even kiss goodnight or anything, just turned the
other way. i'd never felt so unwanted. whether he did it
to spite me cos of what i'd said i dunno. i'm neurotic
enough and have read enough articles on lovers' sleeping
positions and their interpretations, to know that sleeping
far on the other side of the bed, back turned away from
lover, fetal postion, no body parts in contact, means that
the person wants to get away from the other person, has no
emotional connection, wants no emotional connection, and
is generally troubled about the relationship. but still it
doesn't take much common sense to work out that it's not
the happiest of unions. And to make matters worse, i
opened my eyes in the early hours of the morning to find
him gone from the bed. i assumed he'd gone to pee. then i
woke up again later to find he still wasn't there, so i
went to pee myself. and i walked down the hallway to find
the door of the living room closed. and i looked through
to try and see him and i couldn't. maybe my vision was
still blurred. but after a moment i realised he was lying
on the couch all along. kinda..not hurt...well yea maybe
hurt, i struggle to admit, but was also troubling. i
couldn't understand. was i that annoying to be near? he's
very closed towards me. i dunno if that's because i
exhibit the same kind of behaviour towards him myself. and
even if i do, those are only a calculated acts of
indifference, nonchalance and disinterest. but this is the
first time he's ever slept away from the bed.. then later
on he came back to bed. and i asked him briefly,
muttering "...u slept on the couch.." and he said, half
convincingly, "...yeh i couldn't sleep, i watched some
tv..." something's obviously troubling him. but then again
i won't open up to him. with eachother, we're very much
closed. don't share alot. and as a kind of passive
aggresive response to his lack of curiousity about me, i
refuse to reveal much too. he doesn't deserve the best
that i can be. It's a shame too cos i can only imagine
what he thinks of me - dull, unremarkable, undazzling,
untalented, uninteresting, just a pretty face, if at
all... (yeh, yeh some goons might say that these these
descriptions are projections of how i see myself..i say go
fuck urselves... and others might say my quick jump at my
own defense only proves the former to be true. again, go
and shag urselves.) and this is a shame because it's not
true, i do have talent and i do have dazzle, i am
interesting and i can be remarkable. But with him i feel
like a stuttering idiot. inadequate. I feel like those
parts of my personality which easily come out for certain
others, simply cannot with him. like it's choked up. my
personality becomes choked up. i feel nervous and uneasy
around him. which i guess is where his grip over me lies;
and the woe of the whole situation is. I cannot seem to
dazzle him, or to make him laugh or to impress him the way
i can with others. he's one of the few people (or possibly
only person)i can say, i feel sees through my often
feinged confidence, worldliness and intelligence. that i
will never hold his attention the way his ex-girlfriends
obviously seem to have done, makes him unattainable.
impossessable. just..magnetic. and this is what makes it
hard to walk away, even when u know ur being treated like
rubbish and being paid no respect. he is intelligent,
light-hearted, witty, lively, awfully handsome, wealthy,
with some degree of power. he doesn't miss me, he never
needs me, he doesn't respect me, he doesn't see me. So
i've learned not to miss him, not to need him, not to
respect him, and i refuse to see him. loathing him, all
the while admiring him and and fantasising about what
might have been in a more perfect world where a multi-
talented, multi-lingual, fiercely intelligent and more
beautiful and slender version of myself existed; with an
affectionate father. (perhaps, again the root of the
problem shows it's face).

To programme yourself to not need someone, to not miss
someone and to not care for someone borders on denial and
is very hard to do especially when these types of feelings
of nostalgia and such, are so completely a part of your
nature. but i do it out of a mixture of fear, resentment,
hurt and pride.

So, what now? he's going to afghanistan in about 1 week,
for 4 and a half weeks. so he'll be back early march. I'll
send him an email to wish him good luck, all the best.
etc. The other night, during a sleepless episode largely
due to the guy, i deleted every message i've ever received
and sent to him. and i cried while doing so. i cried
because it felt like the end of something significant, to
me at least, no matter how much i had said otherwise. like
the end of a chapter in my young life or end of a journey
of self discovery. because for all the tawdriness and
sordidness and empty sex (on his part) and emotional hurt,
he was still the second person i ever slept with, the
first person i ever had incredibly passionate sex with,
the first guy that was ever taken by me, texting me
constantly(if only for the first few days) the first guy
that ever drove me in his car (yes..) the first guy i ever
felt like a little girl with, and that i ever saw and
wanted immediately, the first guy who ever took me on a
date.. the guys i'd fooled with in the past were boys. it
was just light fun, never sex. i didn't invest much
emotion in them because, well frankly, all we'd do was
kiss and the attraction was only on surface level, and
would wane after some days. but ben was a real man. he was
15 yrs older, and he was taken by me. it was a real high.
these may sound like ridiculous things to the rest of you,
but for someone like me who grew up in a household
structured by, well, fear, but also my gradual
transformation from bright and bubbly, to wall paper, and
the nagging feeling of the possibility that i might never
be loved...or whatever... and plagued by terrible skin,
social reclusion and quite possibly depression especially
in the few months before the month i met him. and fear at
the thought of possibly looking the way i did forever, and
never being able to find happiness, he brought a bout of
hope, ego-boost and brief but intense joy (and
butterflies). maybe this would be the yr it'd finally
happen for me. but clearly it was not meant to be. so of
course i was sad, while deleting these messages. many of
them nostalgic reminders of what we could have been, of
the man he could have continued to be, of the girl he
thought i was, and the sadness and insecurity i felt and
still feel at times for not being able to be that girl for
him, or continue to be that girl that i so wonderfully was
on that first night.
I came close to deleting his number that night, but i
didn't. i couldn't. i guess i felt it wasnt over.
then today on the tube, i did it, just like that. no
hesitation. it felt ok too. i didn't feel sad.

He taught me some lessons, about sex, myself and men. and
he opened my hunger for travel, knowledge and i guess,
fine things.
for that i can be grateful.