miss mess

midlife implosions
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2019-10-21 18:03:13 (UTC)

the last time


imagine jumping from a high dive. all the while, knowing there is no water in the pool. but you hold your breath, and you jump anyway.

you know you are gonna splat against that hard cement, and it's gonna hurt like hell, IF you survive. and if you do, you will be broken in ways that may not ever properly go back together. you are ONE HUNDRED PERCENT aware of what you are about to do. but you do it anyway. because you have a plan to gather as much pleasure as you can, before the pain comes. and you hope with everything inside you, that the pleasure will get you thru the pain.

the pleasure....that HIT of the most intense drug (feeling) you've ever known....is worth, possibly not surviving.

all the walls i'd built. all the strength i'd gathered. all gone. once i made the decision to have more of him, it was all gone. and lets face it...i was probably on my way to giving in the whole time i was fighting it. it's what i do, when it comes to cam. the only difference "THIS" time, was that i KNEW it would be short lived. walls may have been gone, and strength to fight him had disappeared, but it didn't change a "knowledge" that i'd accepted, in a way i hadn't before. and that knowledge...made ALL the difference for our short "round 2".

sort of. while it's true that i was aware of the end coming, in a way i hadn't been at all, the first time around...i was still able to open myself up to experience every moment i could...before it came. like baring my chest for the knifes entry. it's weird to be so aware that it's all going to end and be taken away....and yet, you throw yourself into it anyway. it was like self inflicting pain, and trying to save myself all at once. and that mind frame literally consumed EVERYTHING in my life, because it was so intensely emotional. looking back now, i feel as if i entered some zone of madness. what else could explain ANY reasoning i was trying to feed myself.....just to have more of him. i was addicted to him....and that addiction over ruled every wall, every strength, every rationality. and that, to me, IS madness. i can be honest about where i've been for him.

when we finally met, in a hotel room, it had been four months and four days since he'd come back into my life, and eight months and 12 days since we'd been in each others presence...since we'd been face to face, or touched in any way. so, to say that it was intense, is an understatement. and it was fucking beautiful. from the moment our eyes first met and him taking my face in his hands and saying, "let me look at you"...to way that look began that kiss....

the awareness in me wouldn't let go. and at the time, i was upset inside that i couldn't stop thinking about the fact that this would probably be the last time. but now...i know that the intense awareness is what made every second so breathtaking. it was like going in slow motion in some ways, because the camera in my mind of captured memories, didn't want to miss a single thing. the inside of his lips has always felt like silk on my tongue. soft, warm silk. the way he kisses softly at first and then you feel his hunger build; he's controlling his body, but his kiss tells so much. and his breathing changes in a way that feels connected to my own breathing. he kisses with his eyes closes as if he's falling into the feelings. i know this, because i kiss with my eyes open sometimes, because i want to see him enjoy what he's feeling. seeing cam 'feel' is something i've never been able to explain, no matter how many words i use. to visually see his pleasure...moves EVERYTHING in me.

we tried to go slow. but it had been so long and we were so hungry. and it became this feeding frenzy where we couldn't get enough. again that feeling of reaching and reaching, and wanting it ALL. even when it would end...it would soon start again. over and over. no matter how much we took of each other, we both remained insatiable.

i wonder, on some level...did he know too? did he know that i was going to end things soon? it was never spoken of tho. we layed together, between our sessions of sex, and we talked, and we laughed, like we'd always done. and we looked into each others eyes, seeing trust accepted and given. seeing love mirrored, in a way neither of us had ever known. simple eye contact with cam, always felt like climbing inside him. we didn't take what we had for granted. we knew it was different. and we knew it was beautiful. special. a unique entity created by all that we were together. we told each other often in those bare, together moments how much we treasured what we had...how much we loved each other. how we never wanted to lose each other. and this time was no different. i confessed it all, even while knowing the truth. and i confessed it all because it WAS the truth. if there were a way to have him forever, i would do it. that not being possible, never changed all the things that i felt.

sex was like turning each other inside out...every time. there would be moments of scratching, biting and ass slapping, and then moments of sheer tenderness, stroking faces and tears escaping. every touch on the outside, was a deeper touch on the inside. there were so many reasons i was drawn to him...addicted to him. he was everything, and when i was with him, i was everything too.

we were quiet afterwards, when we both getting dressed. i was sitting on the edge of the bed, when he suddenly went down on his knees in front of me, pressing his body between my legs, wrapping his arms around me, and pressing his head against my chest. i held him back as tightly as i could, running my fingers thru his hair. we didn't speak....we just held on. i feel like we knew that was it, but neither of us was really sure at the time that it was. the feeling of fear was there tho. not wanting to separate, because we may never join again. it was the most bittersweet moment, and all the love i felt for this beautiful young man, was spilled thru quiet tears. i didn't want him to know i was crying, but then he pulled back to look up at me, and he had tears in his eyes too, as he used his thumbs to wipe mine away. he whispered that he loved me, and i whispered it back. he stood and took my hands to pull me to stand as well, and he pulled me against him, and we just rocked together for several more minutes.

and then it was time to go. we walked in silence to my car first. we tried to smile for each other, but we looked pretty sad. we shared another long, slow, sweet kiss....and then he headed off to his car and i climbed into mine to head home.

it WAS the last time. i wasn't sure it would be, but i had a feeling. and it was. for a month afterward, we lived on the high we'd allowed ourselves to experience once again. we journaled and talked constantly, sharing our days and our feelings. but then...the darkness of one of his depressions came crashing down around him again, which once again, shut me out. and i knew it was time to put my decision into motion, because i'd already decided i could no longer do this being pulled in and pushed back out thing again. it hurt me too much. all these sweet commitments and promises to one another, and the kind of bonding we experience when we are together....and it's all non-existent when he goes dark. this time was especially hard, because he'd given more of himself than ever before, and i was left wondering if it all even really happened. the difference was just so drastic between his light and dark. he was so with me one moment, and so gone the next.


and so, i knew he'd be "away" for days or weeks, and that's when i began this journal, as an attempt to break my addiction to him, while he was away this time. i started this journal sept. 26...5 days shy of a month ago. and in that time, i have been focusing on pulling away and accepting that it's finally over. i guess you could say, i've hit the pavement. i'm broken.

tomarrow is his birthday. it breaks my heart that we won't speak on his birthday. it breaks my heart how alone i know he is. how depressed he is. everything about this breaks my heart.

but at some point, i'm going to have to focus on healing. and it's not easy, because parts of me feel like if i move on finally....it means that it wasn't everything that it was. my therapist is encouraging me to continue writing the book i've begun, because she thinks it may be the closure i need. i don't really know what i need. i'm struggling. but i know i've done the right thing. this was the right decision. or was it? i mean...if there is always going to be this feeling of emptiness that he filled in a way no one else ever could...what is the point of ending it? shouldn't i just keep grasping for those beautiful moments? but when i weigh it against the pain i go thru everytime he goes away, and the fact that me staying in his life is the same as keeping him from his dreams of family...then what other choice is there?

that's the thing....there's no choice.

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