So I joined…again…because 3rd times the charm or was it my 5th. Maybe more like my 6th. Not out of desperation or loneliness. At least that’s what I told myself.
And he asked why I had joined because he feared my need for attention would force me back into the arms of guys who only wanted to put me in compromising positions as I contorted to their needs. Talking and fucking aren’t mutually exclusive and he didn’t want me to confuse the two. That while he can love to whisper sweet nothings between my legs, it’s possible to do without seeing a future with me.
I tried to explain that I wasn’t going to allow myself to be set back knowing I had made strides forward. But he hasn’t been single in awhile and loneliness is different to those who no longer have to suffer. That if he recalls, forcing yourself to accept what you can’t have only leaves the taste of iron in your mouth. Attempts to swallow your pride only brings up bile because you can no longer force down the bullshit that this all is for the better. And it’s not like I don’t understand his concerns because I’m nervous I’ll fall back into old habits.
I’m showering, eating, and getting enough rest. On my hardest days I wake up and do the things I don’t want to do because sometimes self care isn’t fun. It isn’t always bubble baths and girls nights. It isn’t buying a new jacket only because I think it’s cute and I’m a little sad. But I forgot that attempting to slide into his DMs is a form of self harm. Asking him to love me when he can only find lust in his eyes is a form a self harm.
I can no longer accept that if he comes over he’s putting in effort and that Chinese food from the spot is a date. I’d rather curl up in a ball and comfort myself through endless nights than fill the room with moans and funk.