It was months until I finally decided it was time to cut the cord. It was extremely easy and I will get into that in a moment.
Our story was stained from the beginning: I saw in him nothing else than this spoiled kid that was good in bed and that was all. He possessed no other value to me than the fact he and I crafted perfectly sequenced orgasms but I knew from the get go, that I could never fall in love with this guy. I passed sentence to the whole relationship since I pronounced the first 'hello'.
He remained nameless for my friends -even thought they knew I was getting 'some'- therefore there were no stories related to him, no dates, no social events where I would wanted to take him, no feelings he sparked in me, no emotions.
I had a non human friend that made love to me, period.
What was the trigger for me deciding, I had to put an end to the whole thing?
After the boy was M.I.A for a few days I met a gorgeous man, nor was I looking for it, nor did I initiate anything. I was sitting talking to some new friends, and he approached me. His nordic height, hair, accent were an easy sell and boy, when I have these encounters I realize how much I crave the company of these humans that are so astonishing to me. Later that night, we became this convoluted mass of bicolored everything. I would stop just to see how his long hair would look next to mine, when he was under me and our foreheads were brushing each other. We made love many times, we laughed, we had champagne for breakfast and we also played dress up with my fur coats. He would prove my point as he looked better in them.
Sex was indeed pleasant but I couldn't help to compare between the two. Where was this boy that will take me to extremes and made me so hungry for us? Where was the one that while making love, made me feel we have known each other for centuries and with just a glimpse, we shared in silence our fears, our sins, our love, our inner battles. Our loyalties and our honor for both?
I missed him.
Over the weekend we met again with Mr. Mischief but since I saw him, I felt something changed. The night ran its course, with his usual routines of not listening to any conversations, to overcompensating for his lack of purpose and trying so hard, oh God, so hard to make himself useful with new acquantainces but not quite getting there. The run-ins for drugs, the lies, the tricks, the friends that were not for real. The absolute power, given to everything outside himself.
We came home and made love and everything I had for him, was gone.
Days after, I called him and said just exactly that: babe, I just don't feel it anymore...
I didn't want to get into the fact that I was never fully IN. I didn't want to say that I was completely worn off by the fact that I did see a human being with a lot of talent and potential regardless of what I saw our relationship shaping up to be. I saw a man trying to be liked, lost in his own mind, falling for every vice because being numb was always the option, a man for whom the word sobriety was closest to eternal pain, someone that had let his self love slip through his own hands every time the sun went down.
...And I started to despise him.
Maybe he was a mirror I did not want to see anymore, maybe he reminded me of me.
(Peace, bro)
