I guess it’s over then. I hadn’t heard from him for a couple of days. The last thing he said to me was:
“I hate fighting too.
Two strong characters
If it was easy, it would be boring.
We are both on the same page, trust me.
You’re my future”
I didn’t respond and that was two days ago. This morning I woke up with the right hump again, and decided to ask him if he wanted me to post his charger back or if he had already gotten a new one. He asked when I wanted my stuff back as it would appear that I’ve ‘made my decision’. He was trying to start a fight, I think, with the jagged little edges found within the sentences, but I simply responded with a classy yet firm:
“You don’t listen to anything else other than whatever. What’s the point in me saying anything other than whatever? I’ve repeated myself over and over again for the last year or so. Anyway, I’m not cruising for a fight. you go enjoy your daughter’s birthday and have a great weekend.”
“Likewise” was his simple and to-the-point response.
It’s over then. It’s really over. Is it? No, it can’t be. Not over something this small. Not over a fucking theme park. Really? Have I gone a little too far? Am I being a bit melodramatic?
I know I’m not. I know that this is months and months of built-up tension – arguments we needed to have but didn’t, things I needed to say but couldn’t, feelings I needed to share with him but wouldn’t. Ah the shoulda, woulda, coulda’s. They’re always fucking around, aren’t they?
I did what I normally do when I’m hurting. I self harm. This time I didn’t pull out a razor blade and slide it across my legs. Nope, I’m better than that these days. I decided to go and get my septum pierced instead. Apparently that’s a much more socially acceptable form of self harm, hence why I always find myself getting a little something new.
I did something else I always find myself doing when things are getting a little rough…
I’m seeing My Mr. Grey tomorrow. He started messaging me last week. He has this habit of popping up when things are going bad. It’s like he has this built-in radar that he uses to zone in on me when I’m in shitty places. Like the shitty place I’m in with Jock right now. He’s down my way for an event with his friend so why doesn’t he come and see me on Saturday night?
Oh shit. For a start, I’m on my period right now. I couldn’t do anything even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to. Do I? No, I can’t. I have much more respect for Jock than to just run and jump into bed with someone new. I have more dignity than that. I have more will-power. I have more self respect.
Except we all know I won’t. Not in the hands of My Mr. Grey. Once he gets his hands on me, that’s it. I’m fucked. Literally. In more ways than one. Shit. What the fuck am I going to do? I can’t say no to My Mr. Grey now. He’s already made arrangements. What if he wants to stay at mine? I suggested us going for dinner. He suggested finding somewhere to stay. It will be really rude and frankly, quite bizarre for me not to invite him to stay at mine. We’ve been friends for over ten years for fucks sake.
If he stays at mine, period or no period, shit will go down. It really will. In my bed with his warmth and his smell, the way his hands feel on my arm as he makes in to make his move, which we all know he will. In that moment, with that man in my bed, I don’t know if I would find whatever will-power and self-respect needed to push him away. He has this intoxicating power over me. He always has done. I’m pretty sure he always will do.
If I fuck My Mr. Grey, it really will be over for Jock and I. Although I mean it when I say I won’t put up with this shit anymore and I would rather be single, I don’t know if I would want to put a full stop at the end of it and underline it. We are over.
I wouldn’t not be able to tell Jock about it either. He’d know that he was here, and I’d have to tell him if he was staying at mine. Or did stay at mine. And we all know that Jock wouldn’t like that in the slightest. He doesn’t know an awful lot about My Mr. Grey but what he does know has already made him hate the poor guy.
So I’m stuck. Stuck between two guys, and My Mr. Grey somehow, some way is always that other fucking guy! How does he do this! How does he know?! Why the fuck do I always fall for it?!
So there. Now what do I do?
I’m not even sure I like this new septum piercing.