The night I lost and gained my self-respect

First off; this shit’s embarrassing and I’ll be judged by a couple hundred strangers on the internet I don’t know. But, since my anonymity is still intact, off we go.

There’s an ex I have been in touch with sporadically ever since we broke things off. (You go figure it out). It turned out we happened to be partying in the same city last Friday. By the time we found out, he was already on his way home, and I was pretty much done. We however kept in touch since, and conversations got hotter and heavier. By Monday, things reached a climax.

We were gonna live out this fantasy we (mostly he) had been discussing. I was persuaded to go see him, a good hour and a half away from where I live. What he wanted was this; a whore. He wanted me on my knees, fuck my mouth until I choked, gag me and fuck me in the ass and spank me until I would be begging for mercy. He sent me pictures of what he’d do to me. They were explicit. He wanted me to bring toys. There is a lot in there I can go along with, if not everything. But I was missing two things, respect and empathy.

Sounds contradictory? Maybe. In the final hours leading up to this, he made a few things very clear. If I wanted this, I would come to him. He did not want to leave his house. I told him he would have to come pick me up from the train station, and also that I would need a ride in the morning. Initially, he did not want me to stay. He said there would be enough time to catch my last train home at eleven thirty at night. I refused. It was not until I told him I did not want to be thrown out on the street like a hooker and have to sit on a train for two hours in the middle of the night. Mind you, it was a Monday and I had work the next day. It was not until I pointed out any man with a shred of decency would not let a woman travel on a night train by herself for two hours that he succumbed. The other major roadblock was his unwillingness for cunnilingus. Literally. ‘I am not going to put my mouth on you’. I had actually heard this from him before, so was not majorly surprised. He made it clear I was there for his satisfaction and not mine. I had agreed to this, so I could not blame him. After all he said he was being honest about it. ‘I don’t care if you get off’.

In the heat of it, I accepted all of it. I knew he was a jerk, so I wasn’t very surprised. But as I had taken my shower and was on my bicycle to the train station, my heart started to sink a little. Did I really want this? Yes, I was horny for it, very much so, but he had demonstrated very little understanding for what I was about to do. While I waited for the first train, I contemplated turning around and going home. I could just not make up my mind. I wanted it. But did I want it for the right reasons? I was making a huge trip, really put myself out there, and for what? The train came, and I got on. I was torn and told myself there was still time to go back.

During that twenty minute ride, I waited for a sign. I was going to be fucked in every way imaginable, and would not be able to walk the next day. I would have a sleepless night, and would have to get up very early at that to make it to work in time. I was going to cancel on my yoga buddy. For a fuck. I got to the station, and needed to wait for another fifteen minutes for my connection. I texted him. ‘I am halfway and breaking out in cold sweats. Say something please.’ I needed him to say something nice, to reassure me it would be alright.

He did neither. He wanted to know what was wrong. I told him I couldn’t decide if I was doing the right thing. He sent me another explicit photo and proceeded to tell me I’d come halfway, what was the problem? Didn’t I want this? Hadn’t we talked about this? I told him the train had arrived and I had two minutes to get on. He said he wasn’t going to talk me into anything. If I wanted to come, I should, but he was cooking now.

The train left. I texted him. ‘I can’t do it.’ We went back and forth a bit. He wanted to know what the real issue was. I sent him a long text. I was afraid I would not be able to look at myself in the mirror the next morning. I was going to be a slut, and I didn’t know if I’d be okay with thattomorrow. That because I was making so much effort to get to him it was too easy for him and too cheap for me. He was putting in zero. I couldn’t justify it in my head. I was doing everything and he was doing nothing. That made a full whore circle in my head. I would have done it to myself.

He said he understood, yes he knew he sounded rude and selfish, but that it was part of the fantasy, he had thought we were on the same page.  I had thought so too, but all these second thoughts made me realize I was better than that. He would use me and spit me out like he had done a year ago. It didn’t matter to him who fulfilled his fantasies, as long as he had a warm, hot body. It didn’t matter to him how I felt about it, as long as he could do whatever he wanted. There was zero empathy and respect for me.

Another train passed by. I turned around and went home.

*tbc

 

Encounters & Dates

I did it. Call me a loser. I signed up for an actual dating site. Paid and all. One of the first messages was from a guy my sister used to date for a few months. (He never met me, so doesn’t know). I’ll let that one pass. Curious to see what it brings!

I never heard back from the OKCupid yoga guy I was supposed to have a second date with. Guess he was as enthusiastic about me as I was about him. Also, I told the Tinder survival guy I had enjoyed the evening with him, but didn’t feel any chemistry and so didn’t want to lead him on. He said it was a shame because he had wanted to ‘try’. Ok… moving a little fast.

I ran into John earlier this week at work. As usual I was spacing out while getting my lunch together in the restaurant (Really, I should pay more attention, whole batch of hot guys start at the beginning of the year) and he stopped me to chat. He had heard (how?!) that I took four weeks off to travel to India next month and seemed to want to tell me how cool that was. Then asked how my holiday break was. We chatted for a bit until he had to go. As I said before, he looked fit, and does not behave like a jackass. I am convinced that he likes me. And determined to make him admit it. Working on a strategy here!

Then, Louis started emailing. He had heard (again, how?!) that things between me and the Ginger had not worked out. I guess I am now free range again. He sends me inappropriate emails and likes being very ‘naughty’ again. Needless to say, I am not into it. But as we will be working together on a project next month, things should be interesting. What both of these situations tell me is that either I give off pheromones and these guys can smell it, someone is a little too happy to overshare, or they have been curious and went fishing.

Speaking about the Ginger. After NY he texted me to say happy new year and asked how I spent the night. I was brief but polite with him, and cut it off quite quickly. I haven’t heard from him since, and I have to say that that’s working for me. All those dates are helping as well.

And so tomorrow, I have another Tinder date! He’s 35, no clue what he does and all, but we’ll find out tomorrow. He’s awfully good looking in his pictures, so something must be wrong with him. Keep you posted!

When the dust settles

As usual, I wonder if I overreacted. The pain of rejection has subsided and my two feet are back on the ground.

He sent me a friendly message to ask if I was alright. And I am, I really am. I have booked myself to be ridiculously busy during my 2 week holiday break, and now that I’ve got it off my chest, I feel a lot better.

And then I start thinking. Was I in love with the Ginger? No. Did I think I could ever be? Yes. Did I become emotional just because I was rejected, or because I didn’t realize how much I liked him? I can’t make up my mind. Would I be ok seeing him again knowing he doesn’t like me that way and might never? Probably. Am I telling myself these things because I am missing intimacy? Maybe.

All in all, did I make a mistake by reacting so quickly and should I have taken some time to think about how I actually felt about him before telling him I couldn’t see him again?

If I were to tell him that, how does that come across? (Don’t worry, I won’t just yet in this state) He’d probably think I’m saving my face, lying or desperate. Or confused.

To what extent did I fuck up?