It’s been quite a summer and fall. I broke up with Mr. Jones a few days ago, which was a surprise even to me. Although I loved spending time with him and he with me, I learned that his modus operandi in disagreements was to blame everything on the other person (me), refuse to admit mistakes or wrongdoing, and never to apologize. After four months without conflict we have two small back to back arguments which would be workable with someone who is into discussions, understanding and apologizing and compromising. I apologized for my part. Not him. He tries to gaslight me, make me think there’s something wrong with me for wanting to be treated with caring and courtesy. He doesn’t do discussions, Ironic that he is so sweet and good to me in every other way.
I’m sad because I thought there was potential for something deep and lasting with him, he appreciated me for me and we were (as it turned out) extremely sexually compatible. Ridiculously. After that first stumble, we never had a problem and his skill and stamina were impressive. He regularly fucked me into a satisfied coma, and even surprised me with a few moves I hadn’t even seen from Terminator (Terminator and I did the entire kama sutra together and I had no idea until I looked through one at the bookstore the other day).
Early on he and I spent entire weekends in bed, and he never tired of finding new ways to make me come. He did give me a new kind of orgasm — a shivery shaky trembly one from just playing with my nipples. After that he couldn’t keep his hands off my tits, ha-ha.
It was sweet, but two things: I kept having Terminator flashbacks that brought me to tears when I was with him (until about a month ago), and my sixth sense kept bugging me about J. There was something, something, off or wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. So while I became really fond of him and I expected to fall into love gradually, my feelings didn’t go past a certain point.
Even so, when the time to break-up came (last Friday), I was so upset and second-guessing myself that I called one of my girlfriends and told her the story, and she agreed with me. It had to end, I deserved better, blah blah. But it’s so hard. Ironic, since I didn’t want to be exclusive in the first place, but that’s life, no? Full of surprises. Still, no tears (compared to all my tears about the Terminator) just heartache, and very mild. So yes, obviously J. was not “the one.” But it was fun being in a couple again after so many years…
Terminator said he would be very busy this summer but has reached out to me about five times trying to set up a tryst. When I was finally free in the beginning of August, we set a day and time. “I’ll be waiting,” he wrote. back. I was so excited I could barely contain myself. Then I woke up with my period the day before we were to meet! Oh the horror. I was ready to stuff sponges up my ying-yang so I could fuck him, but no, I had to cancel. I was so angry.