Friday afternoon, I was driving out in search of lunch. I got a wild hair up my ass, and a bout of strength, and I called Sherlock. I got voicemail. I left a message that said, “Hey. I’m pretty unsure what we discussed last night, but I know it wasn’t good. Anyway, I have your loan paperwork, and you have stuff of mine, so I assume we should just get all this taken care of.”
He didn’t text back until 6, and said that was fine and he would be home all night. I went out with the gay boys and ripped it up like it was old times. One of the crew was receiving an award for something and he asked us to come in place of family. I’m sure he is really regretting asking us, as we sat there pinching each other’s nipples in the audience. My best gay friend was really yanking my nipple, so I grabbed his nuts and everyone bust out laughing. We literally could not stop, and our poor friend told us to go in the hall. I’m sure he regrets asking us to come support him. He really should have known better. At one point we were trying to recall someone’s name and I said, “Oh yeah, that chick was the cocaine vacuum,” and for some reason everyone bust out laughing again. Another hour of this nonsense and I was fully liquored up and in a mood to go deal with the stuff exchange. When the gay boys put me in a cab and headed off to a gay bar, everyone was wishing me luck. As the cab drove off, I heard one of them say, “Let’s take bets on whether she fucks him tonight.” They often tell me I have the resolve of a gay man, so, I guess that’s a compliment? Who knows.
I get to my place, get his papers, and go over to his house. We go inside and end up having this really emotional / non-emotional conversation. I say that it was both because every time I started to get upset about something I just snapped myself right back out of it. He came and sat beside me on the floor when I was in the chair at his desk. Then I was just like, “Fuck you. Fuck you for showing up at Citron last night. Who do you think you are? I’ve been through this already. Remember TheCop? He did this shit to me. He fucking climbed on the roof of my parents house so he could make sure I was home in bed. He chased me through the woods behind a restaurant. Do you have any idea what it’s like to have to fucking go through it again? And why? Not because I’m cheating, not for any other reason than that you are exerting your control.”
He said he didn’t realize how bad it was with TheCop. I popped his computer on and said, “Yes you did.” And, how laaaaaame am I? I open up my blog, find the post that I KNOW he read about TheCop, and made him read it again. (Lame lame. Vomit. Making this blog do the talking. I know you are thinking I suck. But, wait. I suck more. Just wait.) He finished and pushed the computer away. I said, “All those people got it. How could you not get it? I’ll tell you how. Because you are so fucking self absorbed that you couldn’t see through what you were doing.” He said that he panicked when he wasn’t hearing from me, and he had to find me and see me. He honestly thought I knew he was there because he and Virgile Kent exchanged the head nod. I said, “You know I didn’t know. If I saw you I would have punched you.”
At one point, where we were barely talking, he was standing against the wall next to me, and I felt like he was moving in toward my face. My whole expression changed, and I moved back a couple feet. I had the old sensation coming in for the landing – I got overheated, and started to panic. Just back up, just back up. That’s all I kept telling myself. I looked up at him and said, “No.”
So the talking finally slows down. We said everything I suppose. I curled up in the chair Sammy and Thora usually sit in. He put a blanket over me and asked if I want to take off my shoes. I said no. He lay on the couch opposite me and I sat up and said, “I want to go home.” He said, “Ok. I’ll take you.” And I said, “Okay. But I want to have sex.” He said, “Now?” I said, “Yeah. Now.”
Christ. You should have seen his face. I seriously thought he was going to kill me. We just had this really intense conversation for probably an hour and a half where I was a cold bitch and now I’m demanding sex. I was wearing a wrap dress and heels, I stood up, took my shawl off, dropped the panties and stepped out of them and he looked as if he was about to protest. I said, “Don’t say no. Let’s go.” He stood up and veered me off to the bedroom.
The rest of this post is going to get pretty dirty, so if you’re going to be a judgie McJudgie pooh then just dive off to something more wholesome now by clicking this link.
So he takes off his clothes, then takes off my dress. Easy. One tie untied and you’re done. Shoes stayed on, like in all the best porn. He tried to kiss me and I said, “Don’t you dare. I’m not your girlfriend anymore.” He flips me over on to my stomach and slides in from behind. At first he’s really rough, which I’m totally fine with. I mean TOTALLY fine with. Then he flips me over on to my back, and once we were face to face, it went all wrong. I could see he was just not happy.
All this conversation goes on while we’re fucking by the way.
Me: Do you not want to do this?
Him: Not like this.
Me: It’s done. Stop. Rip the emotion out of it and just fuck.
Him: I can’t with you.
Me: Oh. I think you can. Take your aggression and put it out like a grudge fuck.
Him (not happy about this:) Fine. I’m going to get water. When I come back I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, because you want it.
He gets his water, and comes back in. He continues in the normal manner I’ve become accustomed to with him. Enough position changes so as to not get bored, but not so many that you feel like you’re being sport-fucked, complete with the announcer calling the plays (“Now he’s behind her, and he’s got her up on her knees, okay, he’s flipped her to the side and has one leg up on his shoulder, some may call this the scissors position. Those heels look like they are really digging into his shoulder, don’t they Ron?”)
He’s getting ready to come, and I made him pull out. I know. Not nice after we went and got all tested and such. I directed him to do it on me (less annoying cleanup delay – one swipe as opposed to waiting several hours for it all to drip back out and land in your $20 underwear because these are the ones you DIDN’T get at the Victoria’s Secret sale.)
Two seconds later he’s up and ready again. I said, “You want to again?” He said he did. I said, “Let’s go. Get it out of you.” He was on top, and this is where I could sense we were descending into the land of confusion. All of a sudden I become aware the whole experience has changed. Too slow. Too sweet. Too…unlike him. I said, “What the fuck are you doing? Come on! I’m not your girlfriend anymore!!! Fuck me like I’m not your girlfriend anymore.” So he resumes previous furious pace that I love so much, then he just gets totally upset, curses me out, and gets off me and out of the bed. As he’s leaning down to the floor to grab his jeans I ask him, “Is that it?” He nodded. He puts his jeans on and walks over to the closet to get a shirt, and puts that on too. I’m totally stunned at this point. He has NEVER walked away from me. In my head I’m like, “Shit, bitch. Get the fuck up and get dressed. NOW!”
I hop up within seconds and put on my clothes. We get the stuff together and he drives me home. Everytime he tried to talk I cut him off. I just didn’t feel like dealing.
Him: I’m feeling so many things right now but I know you don’t want to hear it.
Me: Tell me. What are you feeling?
Him: I feel used.
Me: Yeah? Me too.
Him: There are so many things I want to say to you, but I feel like you don’t want to hear them because you don’t believe me.
Me: You’re right. I don’t believe you.
He was so upset. I mean, really. He was not himself. Not crying, but god damned. He looked so worn down.
Finally, I said: The best case scenario, and what I can offer you, is a continuation of what we just did, only without the relationship.
Him: How would this would work. What are the ground rules?
Me: Simple. I don’t want to hear from you on a mundane, conversation-making level. That means, no calls, no texts, no emails.
Him: What if I decide I can’t uphold this agreement?
I let out a loud fake laugh. I said: PLEASE! You just did this with a handful of girls. I’m the fuckbuddy now!!
Him: Don’t be so sure. I love you. I may not be able to only have you in my life in that capacity.
I opened the car door, got the stuff out of the back and said, “I have faith that you can maintain a totally non-sexual relationship with relatively little feelings. And if you can’t, then you can’t. We’ll move on and find other people and hopefully get what we want from that.” (Emotionally cold is the Velvet family way. I’ve been bred like this. Ever see a family who doesn’t cry at funerals? Yeah. That was probably us.) I slammed the door and went into my building. The bottle of wine I had at the awards ceremony made me a cold bitch. I was fine with that. Content, I texted the Upstairs Neighbor to spread word to the left coast that I did NOT make it out of the apartment un-fucked. I went to sleep content that things were finally as they were supposed to be.
But there’s nothing like a cold, fall, sobering Saturday morning to wake me up with a pit in my stomach. I felt awful. I really did. I know that this arrangement isn’t fair, and don’t think the irony is lost on me in that I really got from this what I originally wanted – someone to have sex with but no relationship complication.
Now I’m going to warn you. This is where it gets pretty twisted. I wasn’t going to write all this, but then I figured, what the fuck. Who cares.
Saturday morning, 10:30 a.m.: I rolled over and called him. He picked up. This conversation was really an hour, but I’m just condensing, obviously.
Me: Are you okay?
Him: Yeah. I’m more worried about you. I was wondering if you are okay.
Me: Me? Why?
Him: Well, do you remember what you were saying last night when we were having sex?
Me: Yeah. I remember. It’s the only way this can work.
Him: I know. I’m just pretty sad about it. I wanted to give you what you wanted last night because I know I fucked up royally.
Me: Repeatedly you fucked up. Repeatedly. But I’ll lay off now. You’re not my boyfriend anymore, I don’t need to put you through the ringer about this.
Him: But I don’t understand, how can you just want the sex?
(Here it comes folks. Probably one of the deepest most fucked up thoughts in my head.)
Me: Well, a couple years ago, I figured out how to detach sex from love and commitment. Not that they don’t belong together, they do in the right context, but I can fuck someone, and get up and get dressed and walk out while they are in the bathroom washing up. Somehow this has become something I’m actually proud of. With you and I, we’ve had so much trauma that everything is fucked up. Everything. From one end to the other, this relationship is a mess. But the only thing that isn’t totally fucked between us is the sex.
Him: I just don’t see how this is going to work.
Me: Well. That’s your call. Personally the way I recommend is that you view this like you are making a call and getting a hooker. Seriously. Pretend you are paying, and that will help you realize that I’m not going to stay around after, we’re not going to cuddle, or anything like that. Obviously there’s no money exchange.
Him: Ok. So if that’s how this is going to work, then get up and get over here and fuck me again.
Me: Let me walk the dogs.
An hour later I pulled up to his house. I walked in, we didn’t say a word and he literally ripped all my clothes off and threw me on the bed. I know this post is really long, so I’m really only going to cover the important stuff. I know. You want the details. I’ll do the best I can.
After we finished what is now referred to as “Round 1,” I pulled on my undies as he was heading off to the kitchen. He said, “Take those off. I’m not done with you.” We did it for a total of probably 3 hours. We were in his bed for 2 hours, starting, stopping, starting again. His mood was improved, probably by the confirmation that I did actually show up again. He was on. I mean, ON. We went through the same routine of the prior night, only with more intensity. There was pretty light conversation throughout, and at times we were hysterically laughing. He said, “This is the best breakup ever” and I fucking lost it. I was laughing so hard. Then at another point we had the following very twisted exchange:
Him: Now might be a good time to get you to try anal.
Me: It’s gonna cost you. That’s not part of the original package deal.
Him: How much?
Me: Five hundred dollars.
Him: That’s not so bad. It’s worth it. I was thinking jewelry though. Gold for anal?
I stopped for a second and he said, “Oh no. I see that look in your eye. Why do I think that is going to end up written down somewhere?
Me: Hee hee. That is EXACTLY what I was thinking. But, um, this arrangement of ours is getting really nuts.
Now. I’m MORE than happy to just forge past this, because the I really just wanted to share the “Gold for anal” thing. But again, I know that the first comment will be, “Wait, so did you?” Sigh. Yes.
All right. I, like many other women out there who probably won’t admit this, have had a couple “unsuccessful attempts” at anal. It just fucking hurts. I mean, seriously. But I lived with my boyfriend for all those years and he wanted to try it and I agreed, mostly because, well, sadly, he just wasn’t huge, so I figured that it was as good a time to try as any. We did it a couple times over the years, but it never exactly grew on me. Gay men of the commenters (there might be just one,) I have two conclusions after today’s event. First, holy fucking shit that motherfucking hurts. Second, holy fucking shit once you get past the pain it is AMAZING!
Then I left. I said, “This rules. Now I can go out tonight and not have you bothering me to come home. I’ll call you again when I want sex.” That’s all I suppose. This post is already way too long, so I’ll do a scorecard.
Emotional Breakup? Yes.
Sex Breakup? No.
Sex from 11 p.m. Friday night to 3 p.m. Saturday afternoon: 5 times regular; 2 times anal.
Bloodshot eye casualty; result of wayward cumshot: One. My left eye. Still hurts.
Orgasms: Me: 5; Him: 4.
Broken Hearts: .5, his.
Potential for recovery of this relationship: Jury still out. I told him to date but just not sleep with anyone and I would do the same. He said he didn’t want to date. He just wants to be with me. Okay. We’ll see.
Oh Velv, I dont even know where to begin on this one. It sounds like youve been having some Great Dysfunctional Sex, but the problem with GDS is, that in the long run, its not normally that great at all.
I’m not going to preach here, but honestly, I think that the world of fragdom is fraught with difficulties and dangers, particularly on an emotional level, and often its more trouble than its worth. If you can handle being the IceQueen, great, but I tend to find that even if you can push the emotions and feelings aside these sorts of situations have a tendency to create a lot of high drama… and thats no fun at all.
Tread carefully… thats all I’m saying.
Oh, and dont forget the lube! 😉
And here we are again, back at square 1.
I can only hold my head in my hands right now.
You should have been born a guy. This is a complete role reversal. I’m not sure how you can do it and it doesn’t give me a warm and fuzzy feeling about the future, but if this is what floats your boat for now, I guess it’s a good thing. I don’t think it can possibly be happy ever after. You both can get equally good sex elsewhre, but it’s not often that this kind of sex comes with the offer of love. Are you sure this is what you want? God I hope this doesn’t sound like something a mother would say…
Wow. I don’t even know what to say….I might need to go visit that Lesley Gore link again….
🙂
While I do appreciate all the shout-outs and detail, I’m pretty sure I didn’t want it in this way. Allow me to play devil’s advocate: you just told a guy to treat you like a hooker. WTF? I truly hope you think of yourself better than that. Good sex or not, Velvet, you are better than that.
I am not sitting high up on a moral ground saying “don’t have sex.” I am just saying that having a relationship (call it arrangement if it makes you feel better) with someone that can only work if he pretends you are a hooker…may not necessarily be healthy.
Wow! I didn’t see this coming.
I see what you are doing. Your taking control and trying to hurt him but in the end your the one who is going to be hurt.
Do you want him, control, sex? Sounds like you want them all but that’s not possible. You have to decide and that will dictate which direction you go.
The sex does sound hot though.
Well….at least you had more orgasms than he did.
Listen, I hear what you guys are saying. But I just can’t take the relationship part of this right now. It’s too difficult. There is something so much easier about backing off of the relationship part mentally. There was a point yesterday where I grabbed his phone to check the time, and there was an email from a girl (“Tiffani”) on there, and I just shook my head and said to myself, “This is not my problem anymore.” There is a great relief in that for me.
I’m not saying this is the ideal scenario. But it’s the best I can manage right now. And frankly, for everything we’ve been through, I’m all about making this work for me, as opposed to giving him what he wants.
It sounds like you are on one crazy roller coaster right now. I’m glad your physical needs are getting met, and from what you say it sounds like you’re pretty good at making it devoid of emotion. My only advice would be to continue to make clear to him (don’t know if it is if you’re having sex) that you are NOT going to come back to him again, b/c you deserve someone better than that. You also deserve amazing sex, so it’s a fine line you’re walking!
okay… just be careful, i find it hard to believe that he will be able to put the emotional distance in there that is needed for this to work. it could get messy all over again…
Oh my god.
GREATEST. POST. EVER.
Velvet, welcome to the wonderful world of being a guy. Sex and love is terrific, but sex without love is still worthwhile. I wish more of your gender would achieve the wonderful state of enlightenment you’ve clearly mastered 🙂
And I’m totally with you re: the relationship part. It’s Murphy’s Law on sex – everything that could possibly go wrong in the relationship has, so you may as well keep fucking.
You are my hero.
Wow. Okay, had a feeling that the sex thing would happen, but had no idea how it would happen. Brava on the surprise!
Have you two set some basic guidelines regarding this arrangement? I.e., no fucking anybody else, or not talking about fucking anyone else? I’m impressed that you can separate the physical from the emotional (I have a harder time with that unless its a sporadic thing), but can he? Has he slept with anyone else? Will he? Will you? Will you continue to “date”? Will he? How do you keep the communication lines open so that you don’t have to worry about your sexual health? How will this affect him emotionally? Don’t want him turning into a stalker on you.
A good part of me admires your sexual liberation. The other part of me worries just a little bit about your heart and overall safety.
“Sex from 11 p.m. Friday night to 3 p.m. Saturday afternoon: 5 times regular; 2 times anal.” The poor dogs! I can’t enjoy anything for that long without feeling guilty that I need to walk the damn things.
Lucky!
I’m not saying this is the ideal scenario. But its the best I can manage right now.
Curious: Why do you need to have a scenario with him at all? In my experience, people with whom you have previously been in a relationship do not make the best frags. No, you dont have to train them how to rock your world, as they normally (hopefully) already know how, but the great sex often comes at a price. I agree with Upstairs Neighbour, this has all the hallmarks of something that could get messy.
I’m still voting with the cut your losses and run course of action. Hell, Ive already printed up my Team Velvet T-shirts, you dont want those to go to waste do you? 🙂
I heart AussieEm.
wow….well, at least you had a weekend of great sex. And by the way- the emotionally disconnected thing- you are my hero. I see an ex and just go completely soft.
And thanks for the details 🙂
Hmmm…I’m very much on the fence on this one. Obvy, I love that you’re getting what you need (and more, it seems) physically! But there’s some dissonance here that troubles me. For example, you told him to treat you like a hooker, but neither of you are allowed to sleep with anyone else. And you don’t like him exerting his control (not that I’m agreeing with the way he did it, mind you), but the minute he says “get up and get over here and fuck me again,” you scurry right on over. Meh? It’s hard for someone to break a behavior pattern that keeps being rewarded. I think Aussie Em said it very well when she asked why ANY scenario with him is necessary at all.
Anyway, you’re a big girl, and you know that you will have to deal with both the benefits and the consequences of your decisions. So, no Judgie McJudgie-poo here–just thinking good thoughts for you, as always, and looking forward to hearing/reading how everything works out! 🙂
Whatever path you choose to take is fine with me. I have faith that you know what you can handle, and what you can’t. And, if you feel that you’ve gotten the closure you needed by having sex with him, then I’m happy for you. That said, I don’t fully trust Sherlock to not have sex with anyone else, and neither should you. He’s violated your trust before, on a few different occasions. His agreement to not have sex with anyone else means very little, given your history. I’m not saying that he will, but you never know. Please remember to use a condom. I would hate to see him hurt you more than he already has.
Holy crap! Is all I can say.
This, AGAIN, goes back to the differences between men and women. Despite his emotions, he took the deal that V offerred him. 99.9% of women would not take the deal if the guy said “I know you just said you love me, but I don’t want to get back with you, but I’d like to call you up, like a hooker, and have sex with you whenever I feel like it, does that work for you?”
A guy would end up stabbed in the heart with a 5″ heel, and the girl would be aquitted by an all-woman jury.
I dunno if V was a man in a past life, but if she was…she was a pimp, baby!
Jaw on floor.
Circ – I went home Friday night! I was with the pups Fri night and Sat a.m.
Dan – Your comment was the best one ever. I’m not sure what everyone else’s problem is.
Again, girls, I’m not built like you. I don’t need the warm and fuzzies with sex. This is where the ladies go all wrong…
Whisky – Yeah, we covered all that. It’s buried here and there in the post, but no sleeping with anyone else until we work this out.
Siryn – You have a much more negative view on men than I do. Despite my bitching, I do give people chances. We all fuck up.
Em – Why do I need to have a scenario with him at all? Because I want to. That’s why.
The women have a too lovey / dovey idealistic view of sex. It doesn’t always occur inside the confines of a relationship. I think we’re seeing the stark difference between men and women here in the comments. It fascinates me. But the judgmental stuff pisses me off. Not your all’s call to make – it’s the life I choose to live.
I am able to separate sex and love…and have on more than a few occasions, so no judgement from me. I am guessing that some of the ladies are expressing concern that you could be hurt, and it’s coming off to you as judgement. But I seriously doubt that any one of these respondents think less of you because you are having sweaty, unattached sex with Sherlock. I know I’m not. If you can do it, fair fucks to you.
Not here to judge, my only concern is if He can keep the agreement. He seems to even turn his fuck-buddies into his best friends.
I just want to giggle about the anal, I swear, brings me back to my first success with that. Too bad the guy (WHO TOTALLY KNEW HOW TO DO IT RIGHT) was a total nutjob. Never been the same since. He may need to spend more time on prep from what I can tell. Then it shouldn’t hurt at all.
Velvet, only you could have me comment about anal.
Freckled K – It’s a way of buying time I suppose without losing the part of what we have that isn’t a mess. I won’t be hurt. I’m less emotionally invested than he is.
Tacoma – We’ll see if he can. Time will tell. And oh, it ended up being AWESOME after that first minute. Um, can’t you train the husband? And yea, I wonder what the rest of the commenters would be saying if this wasn’t password protected. The thought of that makes me cringe.
The anal thing is cracking me up. I just keep thinking of the “Put it in my butt!” scene from The Cooler.
No intrest on his part. Weird, but I love the dude, so I forgive him.
My complaint is not about separating sex and love. The question is, why THIS guy when he’s a known liar with no discretion? Everything has come back to bite you in the ass with this dude. Not once, but twice already. You are a glutton for punishment!
You are the one who in one moment is fearing this guy and backing away, and then turning around and dropping your panties. Huh?? You went to great lengths to explain the significance of TheCop. But then you turn around and have sex with him? Man, imagine if you did that with TheCop!
No wonder he can and WILL do what he wants, because you send mixed signals that basically say that you’ll go along with whatever. You are the one basically saying “it’s a quail” when it looks, walks, and quacks like a duck. Guess what, in his head, where he has feelings for you and is in an exclusive sexual relationship… you’re his girlfriend. It doesn’t matter that you say “I’m not your girlfriend!” It is just a matter of time before he pushes his agenda, and as history has shown, you will cave in.
Kids, how many of you want to take bets that we’ll be back in less than 2 weeks to hearing them talking about marriage and kids again? It won’t take long, because he won’t settle for less and he is the self-absorbed asshole that continues to disrespect what Velvet supposedly wants.
Maybe he’s the one who’s right about what it is you think you want.
I know that people screw up. I am certainly not perfect. But this, I cannot understand. You are giving an inch when you should know that he’s going to take a mile.
Oh whatever, I’m done commenting until this fiasco is over. I’d like to be proven wrong, for your sake, but this shit is bananas.
hey, no judgement here whatsoever. Believe me, if my ex called me, I’d jump right back in the sack with him. And I love having f&*kbuddies. I’m just in awe that you can turn off the feelings that you had for him and treat him like a fuckbuddy. Like I said, you’re my hero.
oh, and I’m with you on the anal thing- it’s great once you get past that first couple of minutes. I dated a guy who was great at it- he actually knew how to do it slowly, instead of other guys who just try to ram the thing in there.
Ok here is my thing…I can separate love from sex and actually before the ex had a fuck buddy and it was amazing. We were really good friends and I NEVER wanted more.
But then again, neither did he (at least not actively)…I think thats the concern with Sherlock–he will make it dramatic at all times, not you.
BUT I think if you can handle it–then why not? Its just a lot…bc he loves you–you know?
You couldn’t fucking wait 3 months and 19 days. YOU SELFISH BITCH!!!! You know how much you cost me? Next time you see me YOU ARE touching the tip!!!
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha holla back
Donning the flame retardant suit, cause I’m about to say something you all may consider retarded…
Ultimately, women don’t trust women. You’ll never hear a guy say to another guy “Dude, you sure you want to stick it in her? You may get hurt…” Herpes, sure. Beat up? Maybe. But emotionally hurt? Never. Men always trust that other men know what the hell they’re doing when it comes to the gentle art of banging.
Women rarely seem to have the same confidence. It’s like you’re all convinced of your own fragility. “Oooh, Velvet, you’ll get hurt!” Because it’s just not possible that *you’re* fucking HIM, clearly he’s fucking you in a moment of weakness when you weren’t in control of your own faculties and let the big bad Sherlock take advantage of poor liddle-widdle you. “Waaaahhh! Velvet’s in danger!”
I say you call him again, and this time tell him that turnabout is fair play, and strap-on, Velvet. Let’s see how Sherlock likes being at the business-end of an ass-fucking, the way he’s been giving you such shit all summer.
Bend over, Sherlock, Velvet’s driving…
Wowee….no judgement from me at all. Do what you feel you need to do girl. Just be careful and take care of yourself. Not all us women need the warm fuzzies but they are nice once in awhile. My hubby knows which way I want it and when, no problem there!
I commend you on backing away from the relationship with Sherlock and trying to protect yourself. However, I echo what others have said: be careful with the “only sex thing” even if it is because you can’t deal with the emotional part of the relationship. Good and distancing as it may be, just sex will never just cut it. And though you have been hurt and have developed a strong self-protective system, that self-protecting system in the end is not enough to be happy. I don’t know you personally, but I know your writing, and you sound like a very intelligent, very sassy, amazing woman (with -I’m sure- many attributes). That means that you deserve much more than a man who treats you this way and with whom you have amazing sex with no commitments. In the end, I think one wants to be loved and appreciated by someone else. By this I don’t mean that we need a man. What I mean is we need to be seen, be felt, be loved and respected for who we are. A man who truly saw who you are, would get his head out of his ass and treat you like you need to be treated and not pull shit like Sherlock has pulled. That’s why I worry about the “just sex” thing. Because you may be just having sex, but he still gets to have you in his life. In my book, if he’s been stupid enough to do what he’s done to you, he doesn’t even get to just fuck you while you are emotionally detached. That is still too much. You are still there for him and with him. Say what he may, he doesn’t sound good for you. Let’s not forget that the problem begins with his name: “Sherlock”? From my reading and the way you describe he figured out who you were, it gets kinda weird. Be careful you are not just a trophy for him. You deserve much, much, MUCH better.
Ok, now I feel like shit because only after posting the last comment do I read that Velvet doesn’t want us judging her. Sorry Velv, if that’s what you felt. Speaking for myself, never was that the intention, all I wrote was just in a kind of “loving mama duck” protecting the one I care about. I know that in life, we do what we need and can do to deal with the things we have going on, so I support you. But I stand by the end of my last post, “be careful”. Never too bad to do so.
Yeah, I was just trying to be funny because who am I to judge a situation I don’t know? right?