I like good people and want to be around good people. When the past comes knocking on my door, I have never been one to leave it there standing on the porch. I have a lot of shit in my past, but I also feel that I learn from my experiences. I have learned not to live in the past and over the past three years, I have learned to place it in a safe place in my brain. Until now.
My breakup with my Dom (first and only) has been a huge part of this blog. Our relationship prior to the breakup has been too. I write my feelings and I am not ashamed or embarrassed by them. I grow from experiences and rarely call them mistakes (although some were), but I prefer to call them lessons learned.
The breakup was complicated as most breakups are. We worked together, closely and were best friends. We were lovers and he was my first real introduction to my kinky side, therefore, the first relationship where the sex was as good as the friendship. He was my teacher. He was the most compassionate man I had ever been with when it came to my body image issues, my insecurities, and my doubt that I was anything near sexy. I had and have so much to thank him for. This is why, when he broke up with me in a heated text for something I had done (he had every right to be angry) I was crushed. I didn’t just lose a best friend, lover, and amazing co-worker and mentor, I lost my first Dom.
With the pandemic and working from home, I saw him less. It has been three years. We see each other because we work together but even that was limited. There were no conversations that even resembled the ones we had before. They were work relate, short and left me feeling lost. Over the three-year separation, I moved on. I told myself I was better off. His drama-filled world was no longer my issue. A part of me missed being in the knowledge of him, but a part of me also knew I was better off. He was never going to be what I wanted him to be. Even, what I needed him to be. I was resigned to accept that.
My recent illness required surgery and time off work. I needed to relay this to him. I could have just said I needed the time, but I wanted him to know it was serious because it was. I wanted him to know that this was something I may not survive. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know why. We had been all business up to this point and it was friendly, but it was professional. I don’t know when our conversations started becoming more personal. We were texting and then he called and I just told him everything. His questions were direct and caring as if we hadn’t skipped a day of knowing each other’s lives. There were times in the past I knew he was lying to my face but I let it go because I didn’t want to rock the boat we were in together. I always knew when he was truly concerned. It is his eyes. I read them well, I always have. The conversations were open and honest. The surgery was a hysterectomy and I told him everything. Including how I was feeling about it. My baby birthing days have been over for a long time but there was a finality to this that rocked me a bit. He understood. He gave me words when I couldn’t find them. He was just as he was before, only better in some way. Perhaps it was because we weren’t as complicated as we were before. This was two friends catching up and he was supporting me. There was no mention of anything else. Until, when I was explaining some of my symptoms I said, “and this may be a little TMI”, he interrupted and said, “Is there really anything TMI between us?” No. There never was.
He was supportive through the surgery and during my recovery. Slightly surprised I was back at work on day three of recovery. He helped me with my schedule, offered his help if I needed anything, and most of all, let me know he was thinking about me.
Now, if you have read any of my posts about him and the breakup, you’re rolling your eyes right now and screaming at me to wake up. You would be right. I had reservations because I couldn’t go back there. Toy was gone. He symbolically killed her with a text and silence. I wasn’t talking to him as Toy. I was talking to him as myself. A stronger, more confident person than he knew back then. A person who knew how he ended things was horrible and wrong and knew she would never let her guard down like that again.
After surgery recovery had finished and I was able to drive, we met for lunch. It was a beautiful day and we found a restaurant where we could eat outside. We met in the parking lot and his hug was familiar and something I had missed more than I wanted to admit. We talked about all the incidental things. We had texted our apologies and explanations prior to this meeting. This day was about being together. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. Didn’t want the waitress to interrupt us. I wanted a steady stream of him. We left and of course continued texting and talking through workdays and a little into the evening. It was nice to have my friend back.
I had told my conscience (otherwise known as my daughter) what was happening as she was there for the breakup and all that ensued afterward. While I didn’t lay on the couch eating and drinking my sorrow, I was different after he left me. I was ruined in some ways, stronger in others, but my feelings about relationships and trust were forever changed. I told her that he and I had talked about the past and apologized, but that we both recognized the connection was still there. We were struggling to ignore it. I told her we were trying to be good people. Her first response was, “you are both good people and there is no denying the chemistry you two have. Just be careful. I mean both of you. He loves you too and it is obvious so just don’t fuck anything up this time.” Yeah, she is pretty blunt and really cool. Thing is, she loved him too and missed him as well. He dropped out of her life too. She had a lot of that in her life and she didn’t expect that from him. Life is hard and while I understood his reasons, if not his process, I still hated not having him in my life. So being his friend and keeping the rest at bay was the plan. We were going to be good people.
I say that because he still has a girlfriend. She and I were close and I’m happy they are still together. I am also seeing someone and while it isn’t exclusive, I want to be honest with him and will be if there is anything to tell. It wasn’t long before I knew at some point there would be something to tell.
Before I knew it, the texting become amazing, sexy, hot. I was sending pictures of my morning outfits (working from home braless). We talked a little about past things we had done and our experiences together. We talked about how frustrating it was that we couldn’t be together, but we were being good people. We were doing the right thing. We could appreciate what we had been in the past, and still want that again and still, be good and honest. But we weren’t being honest. Not with ourselves and not with our significant others. The longing we had felt in the past was still there, perhaps stronger now. While I didn’t think that was possible, it feels more intense now. More raw.
I have no idea where this is going. If we are never more than friends I am happy for that much. I miss my kinks. After he left I tried a couple of times to find someone compatible with me in those areas. That is a whole other post. There are many people out there who think they are Doms. I guess if you are looking for just the play and not the connection it is easier. I am not judging those that do. They are good people too. My kinks had a connection and a trust that I cant give to someone else. I have accepted that that part of me was gone. The idea that it may be possible again is electric and thrilling and scary. It is also probably not going to happen if we stick to our plan of being good and not going behind people’s backs to fulfill our needs. He said it makes him feel selfish. It is such a powerful need that it is hard to fight, but it feels selfish considering our current relationships. He is right. It is selfish. I am in a position that I can have more than one person but he is not. If he is, I am pretty sure his current girl wouldn’t want their third to be me. Honestly, I can’t blame her for that.
For the most part, I am in control of this situation. We are being good people. I am keeping my head about me and trying to be calm, and just enjoy the friendship. I missed him. Is it hard in the evening and on weekends when I don’t hear from him or reach out to him? Yes, it is. I went three years not hearing from him at all. I can handle a weekend. Do I see myself in his life the way I wanted to back then? No, I don’t. I may still want that but I know it isn’t possible. I can keep my head about me for that much at least. Do I want him in my bed again and is that consuming all my thoughts right now? You better fucking believe it!