I met him years ago on Fet. We were like fire and gasoline. I hated him. He got on every single nerve I had. Our first date was a disaster and I couldn’t wait for it to end. But then he leaned over and kissed me and the air around us just exploded with heat. I started calling him “the Asshole” because quite frankly he was. We had a tumultuous Summer full of fighting and fucking. We were addicted to each other and it wasn’t a good thing. I moved on. He moved on. My previous relationship was back from California and I was even given a rule that I was to not have any contact with him. He’s the only person that was given such an ultimatum. I understand why now.
Living in a small town, that wasn’t possible. I worked at Starbucks and he’s addicted to coffee. I ran into him occasionally. We would send each other random emails going over our Summer of Addiction. I broke up with the person I was with and slid into his bed effortlessly.
This is where I’m a real person and the truth is ugly. I was mean to him. I was cold and dead inside. He offered me everything and I spit in his face. I was watching my marriage desolve. My previous relationship chose an 18 year old in London over me, I lived across the street. Spending time in his bed was nothing more than an electric distraction.
My previous relationship started again and… Are you sensing a pattern?
We kept in touch and he became someone who understood divorce and devastation. Our emails evolved into checking on each other. He asked about my life, I asked how his mother was. He knew when I pushed him away that I’d send an email in a few weeks. We’d go months and months without communicating. I was a bitch and he was an asshole but we understood each other. I broke up with my previous relationship… Again.
I didn’t go running to his bed. Instead I decided to sleep with my boss and go a little crazy. I felt free. I knew I could handle my life and didn’t need encouraging emails. I didn’t need help processing my life. I didn’t need attention. I didn’t need him. I didn’t need any one. I had H. She loved me. She encouraged my wild oats.
Then I got cancer. I pushed everyone away. I pushed hard. My previous relationship gave me lip service of support. H, being young and innocent, left. My fling disappeared. I was completely alone and gearing up for a fight. He emailed me. I told him I had cancer and he needed to go away.
He showed up at my door with chocolate. I pushed him away. I refused to lean on him. I told him over and over that my previous relationship was my 2 am phone call when I was scared. He countered with my previous relationship wasn’t standing right in front of me. He learned my chemo schedule. He showed up every few days and made sure I ate. He bought my kids Christmas presents. I would excuse myself and go be sick in the bathroom for hours. When I finally emerged he’d be sitting on the couch as if hours hadn’t passed.
As soon as my chemo was over and I was approaching an entire year of surgery, treatment, recovery, my previous relationship just showed back up. Yes. Yes, I know.
He’d had enough. He was done and I didn’t blame him.
But something had happened to me during my cancer. I started to really look at my life. I started to really listen to the people in my life that loved me. Then my brother died. My previous relationship went to work, then on a date the day of the funeral.
I ran as far away from cancer and death and fucked up relationships as I could possibly get. I packed up my belongings, kids , and heart. Again I pushed everyone away as I figured out my life and who I wanted in it. My previous relationship was just as done as I was with the mess of our relationship. It took a lot to mentally remove myself from the emotional turmoil of that relationship.
I was cleaning up my life, taking a look at the kids, settling into a new job, house, city. I was mourning the loss of my brother, my breast, my previous relationship.
I didn’t need anyone. I was fine. Finally. I had the life I always wanted but didn’t think I deserved. I started looking at paint samples and making friends again. I couldn’t figure out how to fix my dryer but I knew I’d eventually figure it all out.
Oh a whim one day I sent him an email telling him I moved to Mobile. He asked for my address.
He drove over, we went out for pancakes and caught each other up on life. I thought maybe this guy would just be a really great friend to have as I looked at how my life was shaping up. I thought maybe he’s not an asshole and maybe I’m not a bitch. I thought about our Summer of Addiction all those years ago and how much time has gone by since, I thought about the night he just showed up at my house ready to help me through my cancer. I thought I’m rebuilding my life and I want him in it.
One pancake turned into a bunch of pancakes over the next 6 months. We fought over and over again about us. He came over and bought me a dryer. I pushed him away. I told him I finally didn’t need anyone. We fought more. Then sitting in his truck I cried and cried. He told me he was done fighting. I told him that this crazy dramatic life I have full of chaos and kids is mine and I love it. He told me that he liked his quiet life void of drama and chaos. I understood. He understood.
He came over and spent the entire weekend despite the fact that we aren’t together. We decided that we needn’t fight over things we can’t change. I thought we would fall into a casual friends with benefits thing. This was a great plan. I’d forgotten something key.
We are fire and gasoline and this isn’t a relationship where being friends is plausible. It had been months since he asked for my address. The late night pancakes were adding up. Girlfriend stuff kept happening. Subby stuff kept happening. Things that only someone collared would do. I talked about him like he was my boyfriend.
Shit. I have a boyfriend. Does he realize that I’m really a horrible person to be in a relationship with? I do not want to do this. This is going to end in disaster.
Also…. How do I be in this relationship and give him what he needs, be transparent, open, honest? How do I do that without repeating the past mistakes? How do I jump all in and still reserve the part of myself the isn’t devastated when he leaves me for someone younger, with all of her boobs? How do I love him and protect myself at the same time?
Wait… I love him? When did that happen? That wasn’t supposed to happen. Somewhere between the pancakes and gasoline it just happened.
I knew when he gave me a rule stating that I’m not to talk badly about myself. I knew when he drove me to my grandmother’s funeral. I knew when he took me to the chocolate festival even though he’s diabetic. I knew when he climbed in the bed with me while I was sick. He takes care of me. He wants the best for me. He loves me. (I just typed “Lord, I don’t know why” and erased it because I’m trying to not talk badly about myself. It’s a rule) I am up for an adventure so….
Last month I accepted his collar.
Lord help that man.