New Beginnings

Emotional roller-coaster of love and lust

Category Archives: Love


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Love

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass – Desiderata

Young love

I feel inspired to write about love. I wonder if digging into how my perception of love changed over the years will give me a better insight into my current circumstances and confusion, so this is my love story.

My first love, the boy next door. We were both 12 but went to different schools so we met on the wall. Yes, I used to sit on the wall and contemplate my 12 years of existence. We had only just moved to this town, miles and miles away from where I grew up and I was really missing my friends. One afternoon he said hello and joined me on the wall. So started hours of conversations but no venturing into the others yard as parents wouldn’t allow that without asking permission first. Little did I know how much this boy liked me. After a couple of months we met on the wall as we always did and I was presented with a card (which I still have). He just gave me the card and left. Inside was the sweetest card that read “You make my world go round” and sweetly signed “Love, Leon”. Also included was a locket which I also still have.  I was shocked but very smitten. A week went by before we both ventured onto the wall again. He was so sweet. We almost shared our first kiss one afternoon, but we both chickened out. It was a good thing as we soon moved to another town. We cried so much the day we had to say goodbye. He hugged me for what seemed forever and I can still feel his arms around me and how my heart hurt. I found him a couple of years ago on Facebook, but after a couple of months, he unfriended me. He had his own little family now and I guess, I was just someone he didn’t want to be reminded of.

So new town, new school. For the next five years I was infatuated with one boy. From the moment I saw him, I loved him. He had a twin brother but I didn’t struggle like everyone else to tell them apart. He was a cool kid. I was a nerd. This did not stop me from pining over him.For four years I only loved one boy that didn’t know I existed. I clearly started off as a one man show. In my final school year my best friend, who is an amazing writer, said that he would help me out as he could no longer stand the fact that this boy didn’t even know how I felt. So he convinced me to write him a letter, confessing my love. The added twist would be that he would write this letter for me as he was so good at writing. What I didn’t realize at the time was that my best friend was gay and he loved the same boy I did, so everything he wrote in that letter flowed from his heart as much as mine. The letter was composed and presented to said boy before Geography…the only class we had together. I didn’t give him the letter, my friend did. Watching from the other side of the class room how he went completely red in the face reading that letter was absolute torture. The reaction that followed was even worse…he turned to my friend and asked him, who is this girl? I truly didn’t know I existed. Needless to say, my last school year was not that great lol He now knew very well who I was and how I felt down to the smallest detail, so avoiding me was his mission for the last 6 months of school.

So, I turned 16, never been kissed before then 17, never been kissed before…I started thinking I’m NEVER going to kiss a boy!! Then I went to University…I was introduced to drinking and smoking and boys! In my second year, just before my 18th birthday I went to a party. There a boy caught my eye and I caught his. We started chatting, we danced, we had a couple of drinks and then we went over to his place. We were listening to opera music (I know! but we both really liked that), just sitting and talking and the next minute he leaned in, and it happened! My first kiss. I was so happy! What did I do? I told him lol! After about 5 to 10 minutes of kissing I broke free and said, “That was my first kiss and it was amazing!” His reaction…You’re lying. He didn’t believe me, in fact he wanted to know why I would lie about it and that it wasn’t necessary. So for the rest of the evening I tried to convince him that this was true. Eventually he accepted it, but I think he still didn’t believe me. We kissed some more and I went home.

After that kiss, many kisses followed with different boys. Boys I met at parties, boys I met in clubs, boys in my class. It was all downhill from there. And alcohol was always involved. Until the unfortunate night that I went to a party, got drunk, couldn’t see straight but still decided to walk home alone, and was raped. I honestly don’t remember a lot of detail, or maybe I just suppress it, but I don’t want to recount that night.

Real love

When I met my first husband (C) I had become somewhat of a Gothic girl. I only listened to alternative music. I spent most Friday nights in a mosh pit headbanging and I only wore black if I could help it. I was very cynical and only saw the dark side of life. Tori Amos was my role model and her first album ‘Little Earthquakes’ became my personal anthem. She was also raped and one of her songs, ‘Me and a gun’ describes the ordeal she went through. If she could survive and sing about it, so could I. We both played piano, we both sang, so hey, we are the same person. C was also into alternative music. He loved Metallica, Guns and Roses and U2. I met him at a party my friend dragged me to. We started talking and I thought he wasn’t too bad. We ended up kissing that night and exchanged numbers. I didn’t think he would call back, very few of the boys I kissed ever did, but just the next day he called me. So a relationship of five years started. I was very much in love with him, but I think what changed it for me was the distance. When I graduated, he still had one more year left and I went home to start work but he remained at University, a five hour drive away from my home town.I cried many nights because I missed him so much. We spoke on the phone a lot, but only saw each other once every two or three months.  One night I went out with work colleagues and something happened. I had sex with a man I worked with. We had been flirting at work but I never thought anything of it. I felt so extremely guilty afterwards and I told myself, you’re just lonely and really missing C. But a couple of weeks later it happened again and I had sex with my colleague again. Afterwards I would always cry and ask myself why? Why am I doing this? When C graduated he moved to my home town and started his first job there so that we could be together. I thought, right, I’ll be happy now as he is with me again. However, I went away on a business trip and had sex with my colleague again. Even better sex this time as I told him the last time that it can never happen again. Very passionate sex, leaving a very confusing girl in it’s wake. When C asked me to marry him I accepted. I felt obliged. It was what everyone was expecting. I thought things would change once I married him. It will be the magic day I had always hoped for and then we would live happily ever after. Surely marriage will commit me to him and I will not be able to repeat my past transgressions. How wrong I was. After a panic stricken honeymoon and six months of trying to convince myself I’m happy and lots of crying, anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication, I met D at work. He had just started there and I immediately felt an attraction to him. I tried to ignore it, but I always found an excuse to talk to him at work or to ask him about his personal life. He had a girlfriend and well, I was MARRIED. Nonetheless, we were soon having an affair. I realized that I was starting to fall in love with D and that I didn’t want him to be with anyone else but me. So I confessed everything to C and filed for divorce. All of that in one sentence but much more complicated in reality.

True love

Now D is telling me, he now knows what C felt like. I started thinking tonight, have I
ever truly loved someone since I was raped? Surely when you really truly love someone, you commit, you don’t cheat, you work things out. I don’t think I’m capable of true love. What I am good at and very capable of is pushing people away and cheating on people I think I love. I loved the catfish…or so I thought. This is how misconstrued my idea of love is. Can a man really love me if he knew about my past? Which begs the next question, how  could he?  My chances of finding true love is small, minuscule even. Maybe that is why I’ve been able to have sex with men and not feel anything for them, with the exception of one.

 

 


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Happiness

What is real happiness?

This question has been plaguing me for the last couple of months. Almost all of my friends have asked me this question “What do you want?” The truth is, I don’t know. How about, I want to be happy and feel content. Will I be happy if I finally end my marriage? Or find love with another man? Or have enough sex? Or maybe my hormones are playing a mind trick on me? I read that woman in their late thirties and early forties experience the same sex drive as young 16 to 18 year old men in their sexual prime. I call it ‘The remaining egg’ syndrome.  Yes apparently my body’s need to procreate and get one of these last eggs fertilized is the reason for my sex drive. Which begs the question, will I go back to ‘normal’ in a couple of months or maybe years? I look at young couples around me and I find myself thinking, is she going to change when she gets to my age? I don’t remember this happening with my Mum…well if it did she hid it really well!

What do I want? I think we all want to love and be loved in return. Surely, everyone wants to be loved. But love really hurts too. I broke my husbands’ heart. Even though I don’t feel guilty about my actions, I feel bad for hurting him. I might not be sexually attracted to him, but he has been in my life for the past 14 years. I care for him and hurting him does hurt me. Can I really be happy knowing that I ruined another person? I know, he will not always hurt as much as he is hurting right now, but do I really have the right to make another person that committed to me feel like this?  Can I find happiness based on his unhappiness?

Does happiness always equal love though…I don’t think so, but I do think that happiness is a much more intense feeling when it is accompanied by love.

 


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How did I get here?

If you’re going through hell, keep going – Winston Churchill

Oct 2015 this is when everything changed. I was happily married with no intentions of ever doing anything to jeopardize my marriage, but even the most solid relationships have acidic issues that can slowly erode the pillars that a relationship is built on.  Our biggest pitfall; sex. Yes, the drive that pulled us towards each other and that kept us going for many years, had slowly diminished to the point that once a year became the norm; then once every two years; then the long  drought of three years.

The Switch

The only way I can describe what happened next is ‘The Switch’. In reality it was a tipping point, but irrespective of that, a switch inside me was turned. I was rejected once too many times. My feelings for my husband was turned off, but a need to find and fulfill my needs were turned on. Little did I know that all my actions would have consequences, mostly emotional. I can honestly say that I was an emotionally stable person. I had many hobbies and kept busy all the time. I never had time to sit down for five minutes. I was confident and sure of myself.

Sex

I decided to find like minded individuals that would be interested in pure NSA sex. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, just physical gratification, or so I thought. I didn’t even think that I was emotionally deprived as well. How could I? You seldom realize what you’re lacking until it presents itself. I was hardly registered on one of these sites when a man sent me a message saying that we seem to be after the same thing. I viewed his profile and I found him attractive. So began my first affair with ‘Rich’. Mr Rich was just that, well off, very comfortable and ‘happily married’ but craving for passion. We started off emailing at first. I became very well versed in sexting, learning as I was going along. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Typing intimate messages to someone you have never met in real life. We booked a hotel room three weeks in advance and so the anticipation of it all started to build up. It was like a drug and I was high; all the time. It consumed my thoughts, my days, my nights. I started loosing weight. I couldn’t sleep anymore. I would get up at 4 am to chat with him. I would go for long walks so we could chat. I was so caught up in the moment. It was exhilarating and exciting and yes, sexually fulfilling. My husband didn’t know. He was on his phone, playing games or watching a movie or series. I would go upstairs early to be alone and he would think nothing of it. I felt so sexy and wanted. I thrived on it. I was losing weight so started to buy new clothes – sexy clothes and lingerie. I didn’t have any, but I wanted to be even more sexy. I took lots of photos for Mr Rich and he returned the favor. I became lost in the fantasy…

Collapse and Confessions

Early November Mr Rich started withdrawing. He was still having sex with his wife and guilt started to eat away at him. I wasn’t feeling any guilt, in fact, I was annoyed by his guilt. How could he just ‘switch off’ like that? Ultimately I had to cancel the hotel booking and everything came crashing down for the first time. I felt devastated, rejected and unwanted again. At this point my husband started noticing the changes. I went out a lot more. It is also on one of these nights that I had my first one night stand with a man 20 years my junior and the first sex in three years. I didn’t plan it, I was a bit drunk and things progressed so quickly. Years of pent up sexual frustration came exploding out of me. I enjoyed it so much and all I could think was, I wanted more.  Following the collapse of my affair with Mr Rich, I started confiding in friends, searching for answers. I also told my husband. I couldn’t lie to him and I wanted out. I tasted freedom and all I could think was, I wanted out. It was a huge shock to him and he became very depressed. I told him he changed too much to accommodate me over the years. He lost his identity just like I lost mine. I reminded him of all the times I asked him why he never touched me, why he never spoke to me anymore. We decided to be separated, but continued to live under the same roof.

Phone Sex

And so my pursuit for sexual gratification drove me to various ‘dating’ sites. Easy hook ups disguised as dating sites. I started talking to a younger man that introduced me to phone sex. I had never even thought of talking dirty to a man on the phone, but it didn’t take long before I was loving it. I loved his voice, like silk stroking my body with his words. I had never been so turned on. We started maybe talking once a week, but one week in November we had a marathon and spoke every night. I would lock myself in my bedroom or sit in my car, or when my husband went out, I would be downstairs in the living room. I couldn’t get enough and I developed feelings for him. He didn’t want to meet me, even though he was only an hour away. This upset me and because it didn’t make me feel wanted or good enough to have real sex with, I tried to sever ties with him. It wasn’t too difficult on that occasion as I  met my catfish in Nov.

Catfish

This episode is the most painful and difficult to write about. I met two men on another site. My catfish and Mr Rocks (he is a singer in a band). Mr Rocks is a sweet man and I still have contact with him. We had sex once, but I couldn’t sleep with him again. Not because it was bad, in fact it was very good, but I felt it could ruin the greatness of the first time. I was in any case too busy with the catfish. He looked amazing (fake pictures), very attractive, nice age, and he wrote me love letters like no man has ever done before, or ever will I suspect. ‘Love’ like that can only exist in fantasy, but I was so naive. I hanged on every word he wrote me. And when he finally returned home, we spoke on the phone for hours. Not phone sex, just life and interests and passions. He told me he loved me beginning of December and even though logic told me this is not possible, I believed every word. I was so happy. He said he wanted to marry me, have children with me, take me on luxurious holidays, show me amazing places he had visited. Just your every day sociopath emotionally messing with his victim. I was blissfully unaware, until the day of our first meeting arrived. I went to the place we agreed to meet and waited. I’m proud of one thing in that I didn’t wait very long before I realized it’s not going to happen. I tried calling him, phone off. I tried again and again as my initial thoughts were, something happened to him. But nothing, no text, no call, nothing. I was absolutely devastated.  Reality came crashing down, and very hard. It wasn’t long before I felt anger. I took to my PC and wrote him a long email. What really hurt me most of all is that I told this man something that only a few people knew about me. When I was 19 and still a virgin, I was raped. Yes, my virginity was taken in the worst possible way.  This is another story for another day, but the fact remained I told him. His response was that he would never let another man hurt me again. So yes, I was angry! The email I sent was full of anger and disbelief at the way he stood me up without a word. That night I received an email from him with a long elaborate very detailed depiction of his visit to the emergency room. He also said that at long last he saw my true colors as I clearly have anger issues. I felt mortified. No logical thoughts that maybe he was lying, but no, I felt bad. I called him and the third time he picked up. I was so apologetic and felt so bad about the email I wrote him. He eventually forgave me and we spoke for hours. This was our thing, we could speak for hours and by hours I mean minimum two and up to four hours. So the affair continued, but now he couldn’t travel any time soon. I did have a period of doubt after this and I started researching things he had told me. For starters I couldn’t find his name or address online. Something seemed off, but by now I was so caught up in his lies and I so wanted him to be real, I started believing. Soon we arranged for our second meeting. He gave me his full address and that’s all we spoke about. What he was going to cook, what we were going to do etc. When I had his address, I decided to find out who lived there. It was Wednesday the 16th of December when I realized that it had all been a lie. It wasn’t his house. He didn’t live there. I confronted him via email, again very upset. I thought I was going to have a mental breakdown and my world once again came crashing down. This time I was emotionally raped. I cried every day till the end of December. I was grieving for the loss of a relationship with a fake man. A liar. A sociopath. I couldn’t trust my instincts again, I couldn’t trust any man again.