Posts Tagged choked up

The Routine

Monday morning, after a long Pride Weekend, CK and I woke in my bed. As per usual, I woke to the feeling of his lips pressing against mine. It was raining outside, and all I wanted to do was cuddle with him for the rest of the day. That wasn’t an option. Bills had to be paid, so money had to be made. We got out of bed and went through our morning routine.

I liked our morning routine. We’d hop in the shower together while listening to music and talking about what we had on our plates for the day. It started out as something fun and sexual, but it really turned into a bonding moment for us every day. I looked forward to our shower chats. On days we were both struggling, we’d simply lather up next to each other not saying a word, simply exchanging periodic gentle kisses. I’ve also never had such a clean back as I did since we started this.

After we showered, we got dressed and ate breakfast while watching Chelsea Lately. This had also become a part of the morning routine. Either I’d make some breakfast with the wonderful help of my sous chef, or we’d each pour ourselves a bowl of Reese’s Puffs, Kellogg’s, or some other cereal.

That morning, I wouldn’t be able to ride the PATH with CK. I had an allergy shot, so I had to say goodbye to him in front of the doctor’s office in the rain. I began missing him almost immediately.

Later that day, we chatted while at work. Since he’s my boyfriend, he knows all about the blog and is an avid readers. This particular day, he enjoyed the blog but had some critiques to deliver as well.

It was turning out to be the new norm for us. This was a typical day. When I finished work, I went to his place to spend the night. We were going to make dinner together, but he was constantly distracted by the television. I liked when making dinner was a team effort. I resented it a lot less. I pointed this out to him, but deep down I’d come to accept this about him. Cooking wasn’t his strong suit — It was mine. Whenever I made food for him, he greatly appreciated it, so in turn, I appreciated making it for him. I just didn’t want it to become my duty.

After our discussion, he came back to helping me while we both chatted with his new roommate who was sitting on the couch. I liked the new guy. He was very sane and likable, which is more than I could say for some of his other “roommates.” There was always a slew of people there, and they were quite the cast of characters. This guy was very normal and easy to have an intelligent conversation with.

Once dinner was prepared, we ate while watching TV and went to bed. I have always shot to be in bed around 11:30. As I get older, I find I need closer to eight hours of sleep. CK, on the other hand, had a harder time falling asleep at that hour. He needed a book or to watch Rachel Maddow or Game of Thrones on his iPad to fall asleep.

Our routine continued. Tuesdays after work, we went to yoga in the park. After yoga, we’d try to catch a free movie using my friends’ movie passes. Some nights we’d stay in and cook, and other nights, we’d have food delivered or burn up a Groupon or Living Social.

Some mornings we’d fool around before work, and sometimes, we’d have our romp between the sheets before bedtime. However, no matter what time it occurred, it was always great. Sure, we weren’t having sex as often as we did the first month we were together, but that certainly doesn’t mean it was lacking or of any lesser quality by any stretch of the imagination.

One night when he wasn’t feeling 100% and mentioned going to the doctor, I offered to go with him. As we discussed it, I began to tear up a bit. I started thinking about domestic partnership, and I got a little choked up and began to tear up. I never loved anyone before, but I truly loved this man. The thought of something serious happening to him and not being able to be with him because of legalities rocked me quite a bit. He consoled me in the way he does when I get overly emotional, and everything was fine again.

We slept together almost every night, whether in my bed or his, and woke up feeling secure and happy knowing the other was inches away. I found it hard to sleep when he wasn’t sleeping next to me. Some mornings, it was a real treat for me because I got to wake him up with a kiss.

It’s funny to write this and realize how much we sound like an old married couple. We found a routine and got very comfortable together. If it weren’t for things like circuit parties the weekend before, I’d say we may have become a very boring couple, however, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Of course it was fun when we hung out with my friend and his friends, but nothing made me happier than just hanging out with my man. I loved him dearly, and he was everything I needed.

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Closure

Saturday finally arrived. Smiles so graciously found time in his busy schedule to meet with me to discuss “us.” I wasn’t in a combative mood, but I was resolved in the notion that I wouldn’t be a doormat for him anymore. I had a lot of things I wanted to say to him, but I didn’t rehearse them in my head. I wanted my emotions to speak for me.

I knew how I felt, and I knew how he let me down. I was so disappointed in him for simply trying to back away from our three-month relationship instead of just speaking to me like a man. I was embarrassed for him.

We decided to meet at Doma Coffee Shop. Ironically, it’s pretty much where our relationship started (after a failed date at Employees Only). I had a few places to go in the city that day, so I took the motorcycle in. It was a nice enough day I could get away with it with a few layers.

After I parked my bike and walked toward the shop, I noticed Smiles was just arriving. We shared an awkward hello. I think he may have been going in for a kiss, but I gently turned and just gave him a hug. I had no interest in giving him any more of my affections. I’d already given him enough.

We went inside, and he ordered his coffee and began to pay. I wasn’t expecting him to buy my coffee, but it was interesting he didn’t even offer. He found a table for us to sit at while I ordered my coffee.

I joined him at the table, and we awkwardly chatted about work for a bit. Surprise, surprise — Our conversation revolved around his job once again. I was trying not to enter this meeting bitter or with a superior attitude. After all, it was a week earlier I was kissing another man in front of him. I wasn’t above him in any respect.

He talked about his business partner who was in the news at the time. Because I stay well-informed, I knew a lot of the story about the man’s current situation that Smiles did not. So when he was complaining about the man not getting back to him, I informed him of the news of the day and his new partner’s involvement in it. He was shocked to learn some of the details I knew. We were about to break up, and I was still keeping Smiles up-to-date on the goings on in the world at the time.

When that conversation got stale, Smiles kicked off the “us” conversation. He led with his thinking on the “situation.” He told me he recognized he wasn’t putting as much of himself into the relationship as he could have and how that wasn’t fair to me. He pointed out his priority of focusing on his career currently, and his schedule didn’t allow for a relationship. He acknowledged the possibility of his being partly responsible for my actions on New Year’s Eve. Over more conversation, I realized he thought I might have been acting out or doing it on a subconscious level.

I reiterated for him how little of the end of the night I remembered. I was on the verge of tears as I explained this to him. I told him I never would have done it had I been sober. I told him I didn’t initiate the kissing, but I also didn’t stop it immediately. I told him that I would like to think I stopped it relatively quickly, but I have no idea because I don’t remember a single moment of it. I think Smiles wanted to know the motivation for the make-out session. He half asked a question and then stopped when he again realized I didn’t recall any of the end of that night. I apologized emphatically and acknowledged how horrible what I did was. I choked up as I told him it was one of the worst things I’d ever done in my life. I could see that it did in fact bother him. The morning after, he told me he was okay with it, but now, I knew he wasn’t.

Sadly, it made me feel a little better knowing it upset him. It showed that maybe he, on some level, actually did care about me, even if just a little bit. At least I knew he felt something toward me.

I transitioned into more conversation of how we would move forward. I told him I was pretty much on the same page as him as far as ending our relationship. I told him I wasn’t getting enough of what I was looking for from him, and it was a direct result of his priorities.

I told him how hurt I was that he would just drop me after three months. I really stressed that point. I told him I felt so disrespected that he would just stop texting and calling like a switch, as if I wouldn’t notice or I would be okay with it. It really did hurt, because in my mind it nullified our relationship. It showed he didn’t respect it enough to give it the attention it needed, even if it was coming to a close. He told me it was because he needed time to think about what he really wanted and how he wanted to proceed. I told him he didn’t need to cut me off while he thought about it, and he acknowledged his fault.

In the end, we were fine. The whole conversation lasted roughly a half hour. He was on task and had things to do, so when the conversation was winding down, he stood and said, “Shall we go?”

We walked outside and began to part ways. I turned back and said goodbye. I also told him to call me to grab dinner sometime. Just because we weren’t dating didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends. He responded, “Sure thing sir.” I thought that was an odd response, but I’ll take it.

It was an amicable breakup. I’m not sure if I got the closure I needed. I still felt like he used me and doubted if he ever really cared for me. I never got an answer if my suspicions were true. I wondered if he’d been with other men while dating me. I wondered if he met someone else. All questions I would never get answers to. I think that is the hardest part about a breakup — The blow to the ego. We take fault and feel there is a flaw in ourselves, even if that’s not the case at all.

I would recover from this breakup relatively quickly, but I certainly would walk away with a few new scars and a few pieces of luggage to my baggage pile. I would try not to let it affect me too greatly, but then again, you can only control your emotions so much.

Hopefully, as one door was closing, another would soon be opening…

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