This blog often contains uncomfortable subject matter and occasional sexual content. If you don't want to read about it, empower yourself to close the page. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- . I continue to feel like something's missing with JK. I think about breaking it off, but I'd miss him. I genuinely enjoy spending time with him and feel at ease with him, to the extent that I'm capable of being at ease, anyway. But it just doesn't feel the same as when I loved BK. I don't have the same peace. It doesn't feel the same to rest my head on his chest, to reach out and touch his bare skin when he sleeps, to be held by him. And even though he's the first man who has ever made me come completely on his own, the sex doesn't feel right either. It's too aggressive, too frantic. At first, that was fun. He has such stamina, and he gets these looks on his face like he just wants me so badly. But I find myself missing the way it was with BK, slower and more loving. It was more intimate. It's insane. Sometimes I daydream about sending BK a message telling him I want him back, that if he'll have me, I'll break up with JK on the spot. And I know full well how awful that would be for JK. Even knowing that, if BK approached me tomorrow and told me he missed me and wasn't happy without me, I think I'd consider taking him back. Even keeping all the memories of his emotional abuse firmly in mind, I miss him all the time. Amidst all the insults like "emotional child" and "princess" and criticisms that I was possessive, clingy, needy, I still remember things like "You're my sanctuary," and "No matter what's happening out there in the world, I feel safe in here with you." I remember all the noises he would make when I'd touch him, the way his face would soften when I brushed my fingertips over his temple, how at peace his eyes looked when he was feeling warm towards me. Now JK makes that face at me, and I feel guilty, because I'm not making it back. And that's it, really. I just don't feel that same peace, and I'm not sure if I can anymore. Even if BK asked me to take him back, I doubt I'd be able to feel it with him again. Everything's changed. Well, except me. And that's really the problem. He changed, I didn't. Story of my life. "Everyone grows but me," to quote Between the Buried and Me. Because look at me. Look at me right now. I'm doing the same thing I was doing ten years ago, feeling sorry for myself in my fucking diary. JK said he found his old journals the other night and was pissed off at his former self for being such a little shit. My recent writing is the same as my writing ten years ago. Woe is me, someone doesn't like me, it's not my fault I'm damaged, boohoo. I'm still going to keep it up with JK to see if things improve. I could just be depressed and thinking the worst. I overthink everything, and talk myself out of (or into) relationships. I don't trust my judgment right now. I really need to be in therapy, but I can't afford it right now. I'm suicidal again, off and on. And I don't feel like I can tell anyone. I'm not going to do anything rash. I'm just going to keep trying to stay afloat, even if it means spending most of my energy fighting to reach the surface again if I happen to sink for a while. 12:30 a.m. - 2014-06-22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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