All of my new found dating life has been an interesting series of experiments that I don't totally regret, but won't repeat. Sadly with each experience my heart closes just a bit. collapses in grief and looses the will to give itself to another, not sure it will survive much more. With each wound the scab grows thicker.
A friend said that after you get used to dating awhile you can pick the different types of people out a mile away and you don't let them in emotionally again.
So next time I can at least say, oh you. I know you, married, serial lier with an internet sex addiction, sweet as apple pie with icecream on a hot summer day, hard not to be tempted, but ya gonna pass. After all I was the one that let this happen. I said oh you lied to me and are married. Oh and yeah as a bonus you didn't share the fact that you have been for years on fling-finder looking for randoms to feed your lust like a cocaine addiction. This addiction that requires the selling of the family jewels piece by piece to fuel your will to secretly snort white powder up your nose. But instead of cocaine your drug of choice is giving yourself orgasms on your family's sofa as your wife and child sleep in the other room. One could argue, I knew this, sensed it but I was too high myself on this oxytocin laden frenzy to say no to the cocaine pusher, so I said oh never mind lets have an affair. I was allready knee deep in mud at that point, just didn't realize that I was sinking. I guess I was under a spell. Isn't that really what love is? just a shared delusion? a magical spell, a cocaine like drug that you would sell your mother into prostitution for? I think if we were in a real relationship and you meant what you said that sex even with other people was something that you always would share with me, well I would probably trust you to do anything your twisted carnel mind could dream up. We could play games till we were crazy because it would be just us. We could convince that girl that works at H & M that you think is hot to sneak out early from work and join us in some singapore hotel on orchard road to play with us like a toy, but we would let her go quick and spend the night talking and laghing it away. We could make mad love in the jungle wet and muddy while hiking where anyone could see. I would let you have me like a partner in crime, like a prop in your productions, if only what you said was true that I am always on the inside, in on your secret. But this will never be.
The thing that I have come to realize is, it isn't shared, its you having solitary experiences one of which is me. This is the hard and cold realisation that I have slowly come to, like the drunkedness from red wine, the fogginess only engulfing your head after the the warm richness of the third glass hits your tongue. Slowly, but then suddenly. The puzzle pieces once put together, paint such an undeniable picture. I looked at you online. spied on you really. last online 8 hours ago. moments after you said work calls, if I count backwards. Who made you cum last night? a stranger in a chat room? Is that what I am to you? someone that just makes you cum? How did she make you feel? Did oxytocin get you? chase you down like a relentless predator? Will you meet her again tomorrow in that dark internet land?
How can you be cheating on me when I am in real fact your virtual imaginary mistress? In six months we have spent a meager 5 real days together. Amazing days, tangled up escaping shape and form and staring magically into each others eyes. Fireworks, yes there were fireworks and all the magic movies teach us we should be the rightful owners of. Despite these precious moments of skin on skin lust, hardly a day has passed where you have not connected with me across oceans and countries thru our small digital portals into each others realities, whispering I love you in text form after you tell me about your day, about your stress or the child that you love. The swim lesson, the details of the mundane. Its not all sexy GIFs, there was just the one. A cyber gift from me to you. Mostly we support each other thru the trials of daily life and are there in the dark as quiet company. Me alone on a tropical island, you alone in the midst of your busy corporate life we are together as one, day after day, night after night when there is no one else. Your wife, she lays innocently next to you asleep as we talk. She sits across the room even as you text me. You betray her daily with your notes to me even if we stay far away from our imaginary stories of passion.
So how can you cheat on me? How can you seek this out night after night with strangers online after you have left first her then me to our sleep? Because you are an addict. This is the only conclusion I am left with. Last online 2 hours ago it says on swingershaven. This is you. I must force myself to see it clearly like a cold shower on a winters morning this fresh vision is what is needed to separate the wheat from the chaff. You are not just the sweet man I see. You are an addict. I was once your cocaine. Won't you inhale me again?
So now I have to come to terms with trust. Can I trust you if you hide your darkness from me too? You are a thief in the night. You are not what you seem, a shape shifter of ailien form. I can no longer let you linger in in the corners of my mind as a safe passenger. You are nothing but a spy who will only take from me just as you manage to find more stollen secrets from others. stollen? maybe or simply swindled like cheap grass roofs sold by shady balinese men. It appears you are not capable of full disclosure and complete honesty, you have become too accustomed to hiding your dark bits from those you love. keeping them tucked under mattresses like a teenager's copy of a tattered playboy magazine. Your dark greedy lust is a forbidden relic that no one can see.
I tried my best to talk honestly about what I was feeling and seeing but you were unwilling to respond with even a single word. "Are you doing ok?" was your neat response to my long emotionally raw note to you. We are way past the casual point where I merely smile at you coyly from across the table. We have passed all points really. like a car facing a road washed out by a storm we are left to stare blankly ahead with no way forward.
I would have taken you as you are, all of you. Do you know this? All I ever asked for in return was full disclosure and honesty. I only asked that you willingly dump all the pieces of yourself in my lap to hold and love and sweetly kiss. Bold naked honesty, that should theoretically suit someone like you favors sex in the wide open. Naked in public. But naked honesty you dress up, put clothes on and hide in plain sight like a muslim woman bearing the brunt of afghani life, but why? You omit the details and walk the lines between truth like you are avoiding cracks in a sidewalk.
Omission is lying too you know, even if that is the easiest kind for you. You can't fly to Bali to see me and indulge in what you know would be the best of romances on one of the most romantic islands because that feels like lying. You can't have me in clear pools overlooking lush green jungle vistas, because for this distinct pleasure you would have to pay with the cost of looking your wife in the eyes and making up a story a lie. Meeting me in Jakarta on a bussiness trip in the generic beige hotel that your company has booked for the occasion, well this is just an omission. I can be cleanly erased from this scene with a large pink eraser without changing a single detail of your trip. Omission you have made easy peace with and has fit into your life like the daily subway you take to work. Regular and on time. I have come to believe that despite what you tell me, these omissions to your wife are not something you do just for me, because I am special, but instead are nothing more than a long standing habit. Like coffee in the morning, no thought, just habit. Am I just one of a string of relationships like this for you? My friend (the falanderer who knows this behavior well) has argued all along to me that this is not about me, its a trap set by a spider who knows how to lure women with flattery and desire. Is you giving me what feels like some extreme sport of love and emotional intimacy just part of your sticky cobweb? Is this real for you or just a part of this game? I guess I won't ever know for sure and I have to make peace with that. I have to stop chasing this cold case trail like a detective obsessed with a truth that will never be found.
I have to take the bits of the puzzle that I have found and turn them over in my hand, This is what I know for sure, this is what is true. I am not ok with all of this and I promised myself after my last relationship with the emotionally unavailable but eternally present aussie that I would not accept masqueraded mistreatment from men even if it felt like a fair trade for good company at times of loneliness.
Anyway I think you are ready to let go of me too. The constant need for me that showed itself plainly in the stream of messages all day has slowed to a trickle and now barely a drip. like a water starved desert surviver I am sucking desperately at your dripping faucet hoping you will once again release the flow. Even plans to meet in real life have now been canceled too many times to count. I don't think you have any intention of seeing me again but won't tell me this. Our next trip in the beige Jakarta hotel room is always on the horizon like a carrot that keeps moving just out of reach.
Our last rendezvous in Singapore was canceled at the last minute, my hair already blown dry, me waiting as you told me that your family had food poisoning and you could not see me. So as consolation you met me the next day in the airport and we discussed nurf guns with my twelve year old for 20 minutes, without so much as a kiss. Our relationship has desolved in the last month, we had a good long run but now we have nothing more than a thin thread that even our imagination can barely support, so maybe its time that I stop waiting for your messages. Time that I stop hoping that this is the week you will make time for me in real life. I think I need to say goodbye and cut the emotional thread. I still maintain that I love you. that I fell in love with you. that for me this was not imaginary but real. but I also know that with anyone you have to decide what you will accept regardless of love. You will always have a piece of my heart and as crazy as it sounds for someone who I have only really known online, I love you as fierce as I have ever loved anyone. May we both be blessed with this kind of love again but may it be real and not imaginary and may we get to keep it. I love you.
