I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself. Surely at some point in the near future I must stop these random episodes of reminiscing about times gone by? Let’s be more precise about this – The Big Love.
He’s in my head a lot recently and I can’t really work out why. I am doing that thing right now where I switch up all the music on my iPhone and that means going through the decades of my life, in music form, searching through an endless iTunes list.
Like a G6 by Far East Movement and Dev. Wow that is a song and a half. That song will always and forever remind me of the night of the Christmas Party with The Big Love. The night we did so much blow, I had to leave work early the next day because I couldn’t physically stand the next day. I remember wearing this bombshell red dress and he had this white suit on that would never have worked on anyone else but on him, it just worked. We looked totally overdressed for the occasion, of course, but we had a damn good time anyway. I had to pretend I was nervous about meeting the other WAGs because I couldn’t keep myself together. I was as high as a kite and soon, he would be too. That was the first night we had actually properly done coke together and it will be a night that I will remember for the rest of my life. That was the night I did it with him – it was the night that sent us on that downward spiral to splits-ville. It was as though I had given him permission by doing coke with him and that sent him right back to where he had been before – on the brink of losing everything because of that damn drug.
We had some crazy times, The Big Love and I. I think that’s maybe why getting over him has been so difficult. I know I’m probably boring you with the whole Big Love crap but if you don’t like it, well I’m sure you will get over it. He was such a massive milestone in my life. He took me to the other side of the world. He showed me things that I had never seen before and I’m sure I will never see again. I will never forget the time he took me to the waterfalls hidden in the mountains and I saw my first Mama and baby black bear. I had been so excited about seeing that magical site that I actually cried real tears of delight. That was one of our last attempts at making our relationship work. We should have gone away for the weekend then but he had changed his mind at the last minute because I had been such a bitch, but he eventually gave in and took me to those falls instead. We have photos of us that day and neither of us look happy. We aren’t together in the photos and we look so rigid and uncomfortable. They aren’t great photos of us at all.
Another song that has just come on and that reminds me of him is by Kesha. I remember one night he was on my side of the world and I took him to a bar that I used to work in that just so happened to have a strip club on the bottom floor on that particular night. I whored myself up, all black eye liner and big hair, knowing that I could get into the downstairs part of the club (women aren’t allowed) because I knew the owner. It worked a treat and I got us in.
The night is kind of a blur. I remember getting very drunk and being very turned on. I paid for him to have a private dance with one particular girl and she offered us a good deal to dance for us both. We followed her into the private room and had a fucking amazing time. I don’t even know where to begin so I’m sorry if this is a mess. I remember her straddling him while having her fingers in my pussy. Then she was sat on my lap, kissing my neck, grabbing his crotch. There was a lot of making out. There was a lot of touching that I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to do in a strip bar. I was so wet it was unbelievable. The dance finished and we paid for another. No way was I giving this up now. More of the same followed and she lead his hand to my pussy, guiding his fingers as he quickly bought me to an intense climax. It was the HOTTEST night of my life.
That was one of the things I loved most about The Big Love right at the start of our relationship – he was open for anything. I soon realized that this wasn’t the “real” him; he’s a pretty vanilla sorta guy. He did those things at the beginning to impress me. He even admitted it to me. I’m not ashamed to say it worked and it was oh so good.
After the second dance in that strip bar, he went to get us drinks. He came back from the bar while I went back to our seats and he whispered something in my ear –
“Find out how much it will take to get that girl back to ours”
That one sentence sent shivers of delight down my spine and I went to find the dancer in the toilets that I knew were hidden out the back. There wasn’t a lot of talking. I told her what I wanted and she made it plain and simple that she wanted me and not him. I tried to put up a fight. I really did. It didn’t last long – she was on her knees in the cubicle, lapping at me like nothing else I had ever felt. I repayed the favor, then kissed her on the cheek, thrusting my phone number into her hand as I left the bathroom. She never called me. I didn’t think she would. I didn’t mind though. The experience was positively mind blowing.
The Big Love and I had a fight after that of course. He knew I had been up to all sorts in that bathroom with that girl but I denied it right until now. That was my dirty little secret and one I’m not even ashamed about admitting it to you guys. I would give anything to have another night like that again but I fear, at my age, it’s not so readily available.
I get so turned on by naughty sex; seedy sex. Sex that’s not allowed and is so taboo. That’s why I loved Big Love so much. He opened me up to whole host of things. He wasn’t the first to show me these things, but he taught me a lot about myself. He was my plaything. The coked up nights that we had together may have been bad for us, in more ways than one, but they sure were a hell of a lot of fun. The things that we used to do on those nights were amazing. He fucked me with a Budweiser bottle. He lapped cocaine from my pussy. He jerked himself off into my face while I had porn on behind me and a couple of fingers thrusting into his ass, getting myself off at the same time. There was the night we experimented with knife play – him cutting me as I came on his hands. I still have that scar. That’s the place I seem to hit whenever I do it. It’s almost as though I don’t want that particular scar to go away. I had tried to explain to him that cutting myself wasn’t just a depressive thing – it was a frustration thing too. The release I feel when I cut myself with a blade and watch myself bleed is almost sexual in nature for me. I don’t know how to explain it and I didn’t know how to explain it to him. The only thing I could was show him and the only time I would ever be brave enough to do such a thing was when I was high off my face on coke.
That was a bad night for us. That opened up a whole can or worms that should probably just have been left alone. He made me think that it was acceptable by actually cutting me himself and it turned into a habit that I then found very difficult to break. He admitted once that he got very turned on whenever he felt those rough edges of skin that I had left on my legs. That made it okay for me to do and then made it tough for me to stop. He was so very bad for me in more ways than I could ever have imagined.
See that was the thing about our love. It wasn’t normal love. It was vicious love – the way that love should be. Its love that destroys you and pulls you apart, while at the same time creating a bond that is impossible to break. It’s love that doesn’t make sense and you can’t justify it or the things that it makes you do. It turns you into a crazy beast that isn’t thinking clearly. I do honestly think that somehow, your one true soul mate isn’t the one that you are meant to be with. It’s the Adam to the Eve – they were bad for each other too, weren’t they? Just look at the film Hancock too – the two main characters were superheroes that were built for each other but couldn’t be together as they just destroyed each other. That’s what I think real love is. Maybe Big Love was the yin to my yan? The night to my day? The black to my white? Perhaps that’s why I can’t shake him off. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t really seem to give a shit about his current girlfriend. He made not one mention of her for their one year anniversary. Not one teeny tiny little mention. That’s not the Big Love that I know. Not by a long shot. Even at the end of us he would have done that for me.
For now I need to turn this damn music off and get to bed. As always folks, thanks for being there for me xoxo