He had something planned that was akin to one of our first dates almost five years ago.
Alas, this didn't happened.
We opted for a night in, playing MMOs and eating leftover pizza.
I've lost count now how many times I've tried to connect with him on either a romantic or intimate level recently. Every time I clamor almost desperately for his affection, I'm either met with the weary sighs of "I'm exhausted" and "I have to work in the morning" or the vaguely annoyed grunts of "I'm busy" and "Not right now".
I feel alone.
I feel more alone than I have been in years.
And it's not that I am actually alone. I'm surrounded every day by people who love and care about me. I go to my job that is filled with wonderful folks who brighten my day. I come home to spend time with friends and loved ones who make me smile and laugh. I have many meaningful people filling up my life. I have multitudes of opportunities to immerse myself in society.
But, I feel helplessly, horrendously alone.
I had an argument with my lovely tonight. I contested that he never apologizes when he's feeling vindictive and snarky towards me. In fact, I argued, I was the one who most often apologized for his grumpy demeanor. Most of his apologies sound forced and sarcastic because at the time he says them, he feels he's in the right, even when he's not. It leads to a very bitter ending to an evening most of the time.
It should be known that I will tend to get moody and snap at people from time to time. And I have a very lengthy cooldown time.
Compared to Peter, my cooldown time seems like seconds.
Back to the topic at hand:
I expressed to him that I felt frustrated because we were supposed to have "Us" time and that didn't happen. It didn't happen because he assumed that I didn't want to do anything when I returned home from work because I immediately went and sat on the couch.
I've been working at my job for almost five years.
I've been living with Peter for nearly two years.
It is my natural order by this point to come in after work, plop down on the couch, and chill out for a little bit to enjoy the feeling of being home after a long day.
Never in this time has it been established that I will not do something after said chill out time.
In my frustration, during this conversation, I stated that the fact that we didn't do anything really put me in an off mood, mostly because we hadn't done anything romantic, coupley, or intimate in months. As I continued on about how I was striving to tear down the giant wall that blocked the two of us from being close to one another, I inadvertently dug up quite possibly the main reason I've been feeling so vastly alone in these past few months.
The last person that was intimate with me did not have my permission.
I spoke about this in my last update. But, the fact still stands.
It has been five months since Anthony took advantage of me.
Since then, the most intimacy I've gotten from my love is the occasional comment on my appearance and the random grope when I'm near.
And every time these things happen, I feel more and more isolated.
I feel like nothing more than a piece of meat. Something to be fondled, both visually and physically, whenever the mood strikes, but not something to be cared for and loved.
In fact, a majority of the time the only love I am shown is a strange sort of "familial" love that one would show a child or parent or even a close friend.
I feel broken. Damaged. Like some unwanted goods because I've been sullied by another. As if I were a refreshing lemonade that someone spit in, rendering me undrinkable because I am not fresh anymore.
I feel alone.
And upon this realization, I began to cry. I did not know where any of these thoughts were coming from. I did not know that my simple irritation at a lack of apology would lead to an earth-shattering surfacing of emotions of which I did not know I was in possession.
The response?
A delayed hug and a tender "I'm sorry".
Both of which were cut short because my elbow just happened to be uncomfortably digging into his leg as we sat upon the bed. And rather than readjust so that the comforting could continue, both just ended as quickly as they had come. Although, my tears did not.
I tried to quell them as quickly as I could because I did not want to lose all my control this evening, but even now I find them welling up in my eyes, threatening to betray my outward calm.
Him: "So...are you going to come back to bed then?"
Me: "Yeah...I just need to blow my nose..."
Him: "Okay."
And without further word, he laid back down in the bed and promptly closed his eyes.
After I climbed in bed, I half-expected him to cuddle up against me and hold me close as he had done in times past.
No. He just lay silently on his bed, drifting into a seemingly easy sleep as I tried to quietly soothe myself next to him.
And when I sat up in bed to contemplate my thoughts, the only response I got was a "What's wrong?"
I told him I was just thinking about what I was feeling. He merely said "okay" and went back to sleep.
I felt my loneliness and emptiness grow immensely at that moment.
The words were resonating in my head. They still are.
The last person who was intimate with me didn't have my permission.
And in that moment, when my heart felt exposed and vulnerable...
Where I was reaching out for someone to take my hand and help me out of the water I'd been treading for so long...
I reached for the wrong person...
