109. Six weeks later

I’ve been in turmoil this week.  Torn between trying to talk to The Toolman or moving on by fucking The Boy Next Door.  And my mind is constantly vacillating between the good and the bad of The Toolman.

I would warmly remember his eyes and the way he smiled at me, then remember how he would keep me waiting for hours. I pictured him enveloping me in his arms making me feel loved and secure, then remember how he avoided spending time with me and how I sat home on Saturday nights wishing he was with me being normal, watching a movie and cuddling together.

For some reason, every time I went to the bathroom at work I thought of him.  Perhaps it was because he had a fantasy of coming to me office and fucking me in a bathroom stall in the middle of the day.  Perhaps it was just a quiet moment in my day.  I didn’t know what prompted these thoughts of him, but I knew I was growing tired of them.

I am so sick of being sad about it.  I want to slap myself whenever I have these thoughts, I want to move on.

Two weeks ago I sent The Toolman an email.  I had suspected and hoped he was reading the blog since we broke up so knew how sad I was and how I wanted us to work it out.  But then he told me during our Tinder chat that he couldn’t and wouldn’t ever read the blog again.

So I copied parts of the blog, added some words about how I wanted him to reach out to me and emailed it to him.  I’ve heard nothing from him.  I poured my heart out in the email in the hope it would soften his stance and we might have a conversation and perhaps repair our relationship.  Every day I checked my email hoping there would be some kind of response.  Even a “fuck off” message would have at least ended my fantasies of a reunion, but I didn’t get that either.

I guess I know how stubborn he is and how his inability to process and deal with his emotions will prevent him from putting aside his pride to respond to me.

My sexual desire has barely existed since I saw The Toolman last, but as I move through my monthly cycle, my body has let me know it needs attention.  Yesterday morning I lay in bed for a while and stroked myself gently before deciding to go for it, although I feared tears would come again.

My body was responding to my fingers and as I closed my eyes, The Toolman’s face was all my mind would see.  He was urging me to control myself and forbidding me to come.  I fought the urge to explode as he sternly told me to wait, and when I could hold it no longer I gave in to it and gasped aloud, tears pouring from my eyes, my body shaking equally from the orgasm and the sobs.

Why is this happening? I feel like I am going crazy.  Will I ever be able to have sex again without crying?

There are two things stopping me from fucking The Boy Next Door.

  1. I know if I do, it really is the end of me and The Toolman.
  2. I will sob like a crazy person at some point.

Last night I had a couple of beers and feeling sorry for myself, decided to do one of two things.  I was either going to text The Toolman and ask him if he had read the email, or I was going to hit up The Boy Next Door for a hook up.

I decided on the former and said;

“I need to know if you’ve read my email. If you have and have nothing to say, then I guess there is no hope.”

No reply came.  I started to feel as though this was really the end.  If he couldn’t reply to my heartfelt email at all, then he was truly closed off and I had to forget him and move forward.

This morning I cleaned and tidied my apartment. As I did my chores I started thinking about The Boy Next Door and how a hook up would unfold and asked myself if I was ready for that yet.  I didn’t feel ready but I had to decide to move on sometime.  Maybe I just had to rip off the band aid.

I sat down to write this blog entry and my phone chimed.

“I have tossed and turned thinking should I reply or not.  I have decided to reply out of respect.

I never wanted a relationship but what we both consider a relationship are two different things. I would move in and you don’t want that.  Ultimately we would break up because of our different needs. And I can’t bear to hurt you again.

I never wanted to hurt you and I know you never meant to hurt me but we both have devastated the other and I know we both never meant to do that to each other.

I love you too and always will but it won’t work between us. As hard as it is, it’s best to go our own ways and find partners that understand our needs and have the same needs.

I honestly wish you well and hope you find a great guy who will treat you the way you want and deserve to be treated.

Love always and take care
Toolman. xoxo”

I doubled over and fell sobbing on the floor.  I thought I might throw up.  My body heaved with cries of anguish and pain, as my stomach knotted up and my throat closed.  I gasped for air between howls of agony and heart break.

I thought about all the things I didn’t tell him and how I wished I had. I wondered again if I was crazy and what it would be like to live with him.  I was sure if we just talked we could sort this out.  I just wanted to see his face and make him understand that we could be great together.  I wanted to be angry at him, but I just couldn’t. I was too busy trying to gather together the pieces of my broken heart.

Can’t we just be one of those “on again, off again” couples?  Can’t this just be a rocky start?  A period we look back on and laugh about?  We are both afraid and because of that fear we are losing something special.  I fucking hate fear.

I messaged him back.

“Thank you for replying. I am having such a terrible time with this. It is worse than when my marriage broke down. I just know we have an incredibly special connection and all we need to do is talk to each other. Face to face and properly.

Maybe it would work better if we lived together. Before all this shit happened I was looking at places closer to the city, thinking it would help us spend more time together and maybe we would live together. I want us to forgive each other and chalk this up as a bump in the road. We both panicked…but we can fix it. But if you are done, there is nothing I can do about that. I fucking miss you.”

And now I sit here, feeling sick and crying again. Waiting on The Toolman.

Some things are long forgotten
Some things were never said
We were on one endless road
But I had a wandering heart

I said we were opposite lovers
(Said it from the beginning)
You kept trying to prove me wrong
(Said you’d always see it through)
And I know that I ran you down
So you ran away with your heart

But just know that I want you back
Just know that I want you back
Just know that I want you
I’ll take the fall and the fault in us
I’ll give you all the love I never gave before I left you
Just know that I want you back



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s