Saturday, December 19, 2015

Picking Up the Pieces

Okay, well... I got that bit of anger out of my system.
I knew, deep down inside, we weren't going to be able to make things right again. I was just stubbornly refusing to admit it.

I love Hugh, and wish him nothing but happiness and love. We had an amazing ride... our time together was a beautiful gift.

I don't hate his wife. She's certainly not my favorite person, but I don't hate her. And how can I blame her? I'm not party to the intimate workings of their marriage. That is something Hugh protected, and kept from me, for the entirety of our relationship. We spoke very little about it out of an abundance of respect for her, and for their real lives together.

From the little I know, she's a good woman. She has to be... he loves her.

And so I wish them both well. I hope they work through this and find their bliss with each other.
As for me... well, I'm doing okay. I can't quite say I'm great yet, but I will be. It hurts to lose him... to lose the friendship we've built.

But I'm cautiously moving forward.

I've made a new friend. A new lover.

Yes, it was fast. But for all intents and purposes, I've been alone since September. That's when the missus found out about me, and Hugh and I have had very limited contact since then, and certainly no sex. He became a monk immediately. Any attempts at flirting and seduction were met with distraction and redirecting on his part. Though we tried to maintain something, it wasn't the passionate love affair we'd been having for the previous year and a half.
I know I want a relationship again. I love being part of a couple. I love giving my love to someone else and having it returned.

It's far, far too early to be using the big L word with this new person. We are both coming out of long term relationships and are treading very lightly. We're taking our time to get to know each other, to be friends and to be the person we can talk to about our mutual heart breaks.

But holy hell, he's a sexy motherfucker. Our first time together was last night. He knocked my socks off and it felt so good to drown in someone again. To feel sexy and desired again. To be touched and held and loved but good. The kissing, the feel of new hands touching me. The taste in my mouth of his cock, the intimate feel of abandon and release as he slid inside me, marking me, taking me.

Oh, how I've missed that.
It's not going to be easy. We both still very much love the people we're trying to leave behind. I'm not looking to replace Hugh. What we had was unique and beautiful and us. I won't taint the memories we made by trying to slide someone else into his place. And my new lover deserves to be taken on his own merits. He isn't Hugh... he's him.

We may crash and burn... I just don't know yet where it's going and I'm not going to try to force it into being anything. I intend to let it grow and flourish at its own pace.

I'm still shedding tears over my loss... our loss, because I know Hugh is feeling it as acutely as I am, even though we no longer speak or have any contact. There are certain songs that send the tears streaming down my cheeks... words and phrases he spoke. Reminders of what once was surrounding me.
But I've no choice but to pick up the pieces and move forward. My smile might be a bit shaky, but it's there. I had everything I wanted... and now I don't. There's nothing but to let myself grieve that loss, and rebuild in my own ways and time.

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