One Year

Yesterday was one year since we met in person for the first time. Tomorrow is one year since we first had sex. I am certain you don’t remember the dates; you’re not that kind of guy.

Ours was meant to be a casual relationship. It was supposed to be about sex and not much else. That quickly changed. By the third sex date, I had told you that I really liked you, and you nodded back yes, holding back tears, so choked up you couldn’t speak. By the fourth date, you accidentally called me by the nickname you used for your ex-wife.

You weren’t what I expected. You were physically beautiful. Your face was so sexy, and your body was well-sculpted. Your strong hands on my supple body felt so amazing. I couldn’t figure out why a man who looked like you would be willing to have sex with me, though it quickly became clear that you had mental health challenges, ones that impacted your life severely.

Yet underneath those mental health issues was one of the most sensitive, loving men I’ve ever met. You are tender and caring. You feel so deeply but you don’t want to, so you repress it all. You run from your feelings if they aren’t what your logic tells you that you “should” be feeling.

Even though the sex we had was amazing, you couldn’t look past your fantasies to see me for the dynamic woman that I am. You had a picture in your mind of what your future wife looks like, and that description didn’t line up with me. Hence, you couldn’t let yourself enjoy our relationship for what it was, and you couldn’t appreciate me for whom I am. Instead, you kept insisting on searching frantically for this unicorn you think exists, this perfect woman in mind and body who is going to accept you as you are, flaws and all.

Since I wasn’t perfect and I wasn’t your fantasy, you decided I was good for sex and nothing else. Despite that, you kept trying to change me. Even though I was ok with your issues, you weren’t ok with mine. You created an impossible situation in your mind, one that isn’t even scientifically realistic, and you wanted me to enact it so that I could change to become the woman of your dreams. You couldn’t let it go. You obsessed over this idea of what I should do with my body and my life. I know part of that was your mental illness; your obsession with that idea was rooted in your inability to focus on a broader picture. Still, part of it was you, too, judging me for not doing what you wanted me to do and for not being whom you wanted me to be.

When I couldn’t live with the judgment anymore, I ended it. I cried a lot of tears over you. I had fallen in love with you in the short time we were together. You got mad at me when I told you that I loved you. I told you that you didn’t have to feel it, but you couldn’t stop me from feeling it. That’s not how it works. I loved you. I still do. It wasn’t just the sex. It was the amazing man who lives trapped under a terrible mental illness that he can’t control.

And the sex…. No man before or since has made me cum the way you did. Our sex was beyond amazing. You are going to be the lover whom I compare all others to. You are the one who taught me what my body can do when it’s treated properly. You taught me that sex is the most amazing experience in the world when the right two people are partnered.

I gave you this blog link after we broke up, though I’m not sure if you got the message or if you read it. Even if you did, I’m not sure if you read this blog. But if you read this post, know that I still love you deeply and I always will. You will always hold the place in my heart as the lover who taught me what sex should be like if the chemistry is there. You are the man who showed me what tenderness, respect, and love can combine to be in a D/s relationship. I miss you touching me, kissing me, making me cum over and over again. The memories of what we shared will never leave, and I’m grateful for that because they are some of the most treasured ones I will ever have. While we would never be able to sustain a long-term relationship together and I know that, I will still love you.

Please take care of yourself. I hope you are happy. I hope you are in love. I hope that your world has improved. I often look for you in places where I think I might see you even though I know that I will probably never run into you again. Still, my heart still longs for you.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

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