The One & Done
He asked what made me reach out and I’d told him I wasn’t sure. Hindsight is 20/20 and denial runs deep. I knew why I reached out. I knew what would unfold. And I got exactly what I’d been looking for. Torture, punishment and pleasure.
I was seeking a connection to the past, to an unknown that had tempted me so many times before. The One, an apple in my garden of eden, combined with the voice inside, my serpent, begging me to sink my teeth in and eat my heart out.
I am an addict, he was my fix. The ongoing sexting for hours and days on end; playing out endless fantasies, sexual and other, only to let the chips fall where they may. I hung on each vibration of my phone, while he gave me almost everything I needed from afar.
As time passed it became clear we were spinning. His actions straying so far from the words he speaks. And just as soon as it began it ended. There are no pieces to pick up. Nothing is broken; there is nothing to break.
Empty is my heart, flat is my soul. There is nothing for me with him. The One who got away? The One who was never meant to be? The One I’ll never have. The One and done.
The wild nights we’ll never have. The potential explosion of dynamic energy that will never be set off; the power that could have been. The mind blowing, earth shattering sexual tension dies on each unfulfilled commitment, each call never made nor answered.
Onward.
Now, how do you tell your new partner that when you say open, you really mean open, without scaring them away before things have a real chance? This new man in my life is delightful though I worry our commitments to living outside societal norms may differ in more ways than one.
While I adore how he holds me down by pressing his arm across my throat while I cum... I feel as though he’s not as experimental as I’ll eventually need him to be. Time will tell. For now I’m taking the discovery process slow. Getting to know him more than just sexually but also personally. Is this what they mean when they say adulting?
