The Dragon
Sexy Member
It's been 3.5 years.
The initial shock, horror and devistation and depression has slowed to a dull ache that is ever present.
My intellectual self knows that if he loved me he would still be with me.
My emotional self pines for him and the feelings he evoked inside of me.
Some times I can go for days without thinking of him and then someone will walk past wearing the same aftershave as him and I feel like I've been kicked in the guts.
Or "Our song" will play on the radio bringing tears to my eyes and unwanted memories racing back.
During this time my intellectual self will give me a verbal lambasting and be totally disgusted that we have gotten back on the machosistic mouse wheel of old regrets and misery.
He is the yard stick that all other encounters are measured against and found wanting.
I find myself wanting a new beu to workout...making tender, passionate, exciting sex and be so exhausted that I can bearly lift my head off the pillow only to find that there is still that vast emptyness inside that hasn't been filled and a vauge feeling of resentment that they aren't HIM.
I don't kid myself anymore...I would really love to have a relationship again but with the specter of this man still haunting me it would be unfair to the other party because I can't give all of myself to him.
I hope what I've written makes sense.
The initial shock, horror and devistation and depression has slowed to a dull ache that is ever present.
My intellectual self knows that if he loved me he would still be with me.
My emotional self pines for him and the feelings he evoked inside of me.
Some times I can go for days without thinking of him and then someone will walk past wearing the same aftershave as him and I feel like I've been kicked in the guts.
Or "Our song" will play on the radio bringing tears to my eyes and unwanted memories racing back.
During this time my intellectual self will give me a verbal lambasting and be totally disgusted that we have gotten back on the machosistic mouse wheel of old regrets and misery.
He is the yard stick that all other encounters are measured against and found wanting.
I find myself wanting a new beu to workout...making tender, passionate, exciting sex and be so exhausted that I can bearly lift my head off the pillow only to find that there is still that vast emptyness inside that hasn't been filled and a vauge feeling of resentment that they aren't HIM.
I don't kid myself anymore...I would really love to have a relationship again but with the specter of this man still haunting me it would be unfair to the other party because I can't give all of myself to him.
I hope what I've written makes sense.