I’m Still Not Over My Ex. Me Neither…

I always love the stuff on Thought Catalog but this post caught my eye for a reason as I flicked through my WordPress Reader. You know why. Don’t make me say it. Okay, fine…

I’m still not over my ex.

The writer of the post, who chose to be anonymous, said they didn’t think they loved their ex, but they didn’t they were “over” them either. It was comforting to know that someone had felt exactly the way that I had. Big Love was my one. I haven’t loved anyone since him in that way; and I don’t think I ever truly loved anyone before him in that way either. I was really feeling this blog post on Thought Catalog.

The similarities continued – I’m now embarking on a relationship that has the potential to be everything I need. From the ways things have gone so far for us, I can just tell that this isn’t going to be a fleeting encounter. The only problem is that I can’t open up. I can’t do it. I don’t want to let him in. I didn’t let The Lapdog in. I didn’t let OB in. I definitely didn’t let the Guy I Couldn’t Get Rid Of in. I’m trying to let my barriers down for Jock but something is making it really difficult. He’s breaking my rules for sure, but I’m struggling to give him my heart.

Am I truly over Big Love enough to give Jock everything he will need from me. At the moment it feels like Jock is only getting a somewhat half-hearted effort from me. Still more than what the ones before him have received, but a half-measure nevertheless.

When I’m with him, I feel like I am beautiful. I feel he makes me beautiful. We make the cutest couple in the quirkiest of ways and everyone tells us this. I love the effect that “us”, as a couple, has on both of us. It makes us both feel good. We can see it in each other too –it’s not a one sided thing. I can see that I’m having just as good an effect on him as he is on me.

I feel so good about him, and around him. Laying on his squishy tummy on his bed, hands lightly playing with the hair on his chest, every now and again planting soft kisses – this has become my save haven. The last time I saw him, my insomnia played up like a bitch and twice I fell asleep…. with my hands on his penis. I’m not talking actually mid-handjob; just a little light foreplay stroking, but nevertheless, I fell asleep with my hand grasping his penis and he left me like that. I’m not sure many men would have been brave enough to do the same. I’m also pretty sure that many men would have been offended if I had fallen asleep mid-penis-stroke too. He didn’t even bat an eyelid. He dozed off just after me and when we woke up, we were in exactly the same position. It’s like we are completely in sync with each other.

He’s horny when I’m horny. It doesn’t matter where we are, the time of day, nothin’… When we get horny, we get horny and we are two damn horny motherfuckers. It’s like he’s flicked my libido switch. I want him all the time. The last time  saw him, for example; He picked me up on the Thursday and I had suffered with a little light spotting that morning (sorry for the TMI). We went out for dinner, drinks, etc. and he was aware that I was “Out of Order”.

The next day, however, after two showers and a tampon-free day, I was satisfied that it was just a bit of light spotting and nothing too serious and poor Jock didn’t stand a chance. I walked up the stairs and he was sat on the toilet seat, cleaning his feet as we had been to a sandy beach. He stood up and I kissed him, leading him backwards across the hall, into the bedroom, pushed him down on the bed… As he said, we went from fully clothed to stark bollock naked in less than a minute, and it was the hottest 4/5 minutes of my life. It wasn’t long but it didn’t need to be. We had the Thursday night’s slightly tipsy friskiness, combined with the fact I had barely let him touch me as I wasn’t sure what the spotting was going to turn out to be, and then the Friday morning horn that never really went away. That Friday afternoon, Jock got it from me with both barrels.

Like your ex was watching

I rode the shit out of him, climaxing twice. It was hot, loud, empty-house, heat wave, sweaty, fuck-the-shit-out-of-me summer sex and it was AMAZING. After I’d climaxed for the second time, he rolled me over and pounded into me with a force I hadn’t yet experienced with him. It was oh so good. I’m blushing as I type – that’s how good it was. I let rip – I came the third time hard, loud, and violently. It shocked both of us. I don’t think either of us thought I had that in me. I certainly didn’t think I did. It was lights-on, completely naked, daytime sex – the type of sex that I would normally run a thousand miles from. This is what I mean – he’s doing something to me! Something good!


Even after all of that with my amazing new Jock, Big Love still appears in my life. He’s the Facebook page I keep stalking. He’s the sex I compare everybody too. He’s the Perfect Penis I wish every guy had. He’s the soft kisses that not many men can replicate. Jock isn’t far off. I actually love the way Jock kisses me. He’s the funny guy that I think Jock is very similar too. He’s still the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Every photo I see of him breaks my heart, and I want to tell him every day.

favourite ex-boyfriend

I only spent two years with my Big Love and those two years will have an impact on me until the very day I die. He was the “core-shaker” that Charlotte talks about in Sex and the City. I still think he could very well be my Mr. Big. I also know, however, that we have absolutely no chance of getting back together, and I’m not stupid enough to ever tell him how I feel. He’s another life, another chapter, another story in my cool and funky life. He’s a very beautiful and yet very ugly part of my life.

I just wish his sparkle would die down a damn sight faster.

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