This is a bit of a story – what happened last night and what is in my heart today.
One of my dear besties, Jan, is out visiting. I picked her up from the airport this morning. We grabbed breakfast on the way back to my place, gabbed until with both couldn’t keep out eyes open – both of us having had 2 hours of sleep the night before. She was flying, I was out with boy side.
It was a wonderful, sexy time out with boy-side and a old lover/friend of his last night – dancing, flirting and just fun. Feeling loved up by boy-side and starting what feels like a friendship. I had been nervous to meet her – she and Boy-side have been lovers and good friends for many years. But she was kind and the meeting was 100% different than meeting his wife. Thank god.
A boy asked me to dance. I accepted. Why wouldn’t I dance with a cute boy? I smiled and kissed Boy-side and his lovely friend as I was whisked off to the dance floor. He was a handsome, young doctor and it was fun and sexy for a time, the buzz of the drinks and the pounding music making me feel reckless and alive. Even his cheesy pick up lines made me smile. Then I wanted to go. And he wouldn’t let me. He backed me up against a wall – tried to get me to type in my phone number into his phone – called me a liar. Grabbed me. Held me in place with his hips and pelvis – grinding himself into me as he grabbed my breasts and put his hand under my skirt. I yelled no. I pushed at him. The music is loud and the crowd is thick with no one paying attention to the girl against the wall who had been laughing and smiling a minute ago. No one is coming to my rescue.
I am not afraid of much. But I am afraid now. My heart is pounding in my throat and I feel hysterical. I hit him hard. And run/push my way through the dancing and drinking. I can’t find Boy-side. I am almost falling down with fear. My legs shaky as hell on too high heels. Then I find them, the sob sitting in my chest/throat/mouth like a physical thing.
Boy-side doesn’t see the wild look in my eyes, the fear. Last he saw, I was dancing with a cute boy. Having fun.
His friend does. She says to Boy-side that I’m not okay and we need to go – and we do. I feel like a stupid loser who ruins the party with drama. I’m not that girl. But here I am.
We drive home. I cry a lot quietly. Trying to be as small as I can make myself.
It needs noting that we took out his wife’s suv for the night – since it was three of us – his car is a two seater. “Why is that important?”, you may be asking. Well, his wife said to him, “Don’t have sex with those girls in my car.” Normally, that sort of thing rolls off me. It echos in my head as we drive his friend home. And I feel like a dirty, disgusting thing. I am not right in my own skin. And I hate his wife in those moments, as I stare at the street lights going by – I hate that she is adding to my pain. I hate that she is an ungrateful cunt. I hate that she looked at me like she stepped in something smelly and awful. I hate that I am jealous of her life with Boy-side.
Then Boy-side and I are finally alone, a few hours left to our night together, and I couldn’t feel any unsexier. He holds me close. Tells me kind, nice things. I know he wants to make me feel better. I know he feels bad that I got hurt and he didn’t see it happen, that he didn’t rescue me. That makes me feel worse. I feel alone.
We sleep for a couple of hours. I can’t get close enough to him. I feel unworthy of it at the same time.
Today is his and his wife’s wedding anniversary. I’m not kidding. Timing is everything. He bought her a pandora charm – a jeweled heart. It may not be the one she likes, so as with all of her presents, he gets a gift receipt. I never need a gift receipt from anyone. The idea of returning a present I find gross. Another gross things about her – just like the rest of her.
They are at a friend’s wedding today. Ironically, a wedding that is a sham. The bitter irony of it all gives me a fucking headache.
Boy-side texts me that his wife and Her-Guy are on the outs. Timing.
I do a lot of work with boy-side for his work. His wife, who has a marketing degree can’t be fucking bothered to help out. One of the things I did was set up a facebook page for his venture a few days ago. She liked it a hour ago. Coincidence? Nope. Go ahead and tell me I am wrong. Timing.
I’m angry at the universe today.
I imagine her snuggling up to Boy-side. Switching gears from upset and boyfriend-mode to fixing broken marriage, reasserting wife role. And it’s not a bad thing – except for me.
I’m feeling like a gross, dirty thing today. Even with my good friend here, it is not enough to chase the ghosts of last night’s fear away. I lost something last night. I’ve been date raped. I’ve been sexually assaulted as a kid. So many women have. I know I am not alone, and there is a part of me that is all “Quit your bitchin’”, even as I feel so deeply lonely.
I can’t seem to shake that unbearable loneliness of wanting to be loved. My heart aches. I want Boy-side/Misty to hold me. To love me.
So I grieve.