35 the new LittleBlack dress

So I’ve started seeing someone, 11 years my senior, 8 years older than the last guy I dated, and 8 years more than I would have considered myself.
But enough years to free me from the immature, irresponsible, selfish behaviour of boys figuring their bubble wrap of wants and needs.

Now because of his age and the circumstances, it’s one of those hotel room kinda things
And I’m not a hotel room kinda girl.
I mean in one sense I’m more european than eastern, and I don’t see it as a big deal, and I’m always happy to share my dirty little secrets,
But I mean, when it’s a one night, no strings attached, nice to know you, will forget you in the morning kind of playtime… that is really beyond my age limit. And above too, my emotional capabilities.

I’m more of a: hi, can I hold your hand after the first date, please call and text me regularly until I feel like I’m important to you, and then we can go on a second date, kind of gal, all the while I’d like some dirty little things.

But still, the daily snuggling is idyllic,
Hearing some sweet sweet words whispered in your ear, serene.
Breathing as one, with clear minds as there is a lack of future to think about, so calming.
And for the most part he understands my reservations and my limits.
We don’t need too many words, or reasons for being there, or explanations why we’re not, when we’re not.
And for a change he is one of the ‘good guys’ I never seem to come across. When every 4 years that I do, like now, they leave due to circumstances, and instead it’s always the asswipes I’m stuck with in those prolonged unrelationship relationships.

I’ll tell you what,
It’s good, so good,
That new, intimate discovery of our bodies and my confidence, and that mind numbing sensation when he does it right .
Personally, it’s not just the physical, it’s also a necessary diversion which stops me from being my old melodramatic emotional self,
I’m either happy or indifferent as regards to him and our secret.
Contradicting all boy-girl communication, there’s no games as it’s too short-lived; I mean, don’t get me wrong its crucial to promote the chase, but in these instances not so needed, as it’s almost always ready with just an entrance.
There’s also no lying as that is pathetic but would be even more so in the context, and the opportunity for elaborate stories, saving the other side from pain, aka talking bullshit, doesn’t occur.
And better yet, there is no reason to feel any emotion that needs to be second guessed. That is a result of unknown assumptions and uncertain lameass, ‘don’t want you now but don’t want to lose you for later’, hints.

Now the bad,
I mean its everything your parents warned you about,
It’s still instability, the lack of sustenance and the finality so near means there is no true or deep feelings. Nothing long enough established to fight for, even if no outbreak of war to test strengths.
And so it’s a blow to your self-confidence when the end nears and no extra effort is made.
When you’ve been surrounded for a week with the likes of, “where have you been all my life”, “I think I’m in love”, “you know what to do with me”, “I enjoy you more everyday”, blah blah blah,
And then to not follow through with the passion that only yesterday was so genuine and unforced.
It’s not painful, but unfortunate… disappointing. Words thus border exaggeration, if nothing more ingenious.

In fact, he never left his life to be with me. Never attempted a big gesture to keep me or take me back.
A young girl disillusioned in a room, that typical story.

Despite the worse painting of him,
he still made me feel special,
Helped me qualify the insubstantial unimportant mess I was previously drowning in.
And was so utterly insistent that my enjoyment was his pleasure, thus to me, in the back of my mind he looks beautiful regardless of any ugly.

And so he left.
Before I even finished writing this, he left.
With nothing to remember him or me by, no contact to be had between either of us.
He said bye,
a pleasure
and left.

Miss Mess

xoxo

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About iheartmess

A Middle Eastern Londoner 20-something living the 'western' life in between London and home.
This entry was posted in Secrets and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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