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i feel better
Oct. 9th, 2024 07:39 pmI felt better the next day. Good, even. In control, and most of the hurt I hadn't expected, that I couldn't swallow the day before, was gone.
I'm not sure if it's still lurking there, or if I've truly managed to work through it in my sleep, but at the very least, I feel settled.
It reminds me again that whenever my emotions are hard to deal with, I need to sleep on them first. I would've regretted it if I'd reacted on the spur of the moment and done...what? Hard to say what I would've done. Maybe the outcome would've been the same. Hard to remember since it's been a couple days now but I just remember feeling crazy, feeling trapped in the sticky thin wrapping of my skin, the residue of dried sweat from the heat of the day, that hottest day of the year so far, gripping me tight as a vise. Wanting to get away from myself, wanting to run and being unable to, and feeling so, so alone. Just thinking that I was hurting—hurting so much less than many others, this mild physical pain of mine, but yet, and yet, I thought about it like it was the end of the world... for a few solitary moments I didn't think I could endure one more moment of being less than whole. I cried about it, in the safety of knowing that no one could hear me, and as I did I thought over and over again.
Who would care if they did?
I felt so alone. I don't know if that's why, even as I turned over the possibility of ending things between me and him, I didn't think about it seriously. I would briefly think I should, envision myself waiting until after my birthday, after the things we'd planned, to tell him hey, maybe it's better not to continue this. And then I would think, if I was going to cut things off anyway, or worse if he was going to, why not do it now? Because what's the point of keeping something that won't last? Better to cut it off myself than have it pulled out from under me, right? But I couldn't bring myself to even consider saying the words for real. Not then. I think I didn't really want to. I thought: I might miss him. I thought: it's scary being alone.
Because it wasn't as if I knew what I wanted. From him, or in general. I never really know what I want. So it wasn't fair to ask him for anything, or to expect any different. I understood that much.
I just knew what I didn't want. And that was to be alone.
But that day it felt stupid, pathetic, to hold onto something just because of the possibility of loneliness. And I guess it hurt my pride too: if it was so easy for him to say, 'end things if you want', I wouldn't be the one to miss him. Or at least, I'd never, ever show it. Which is stupid, yes I know. But I want to have something to cling onto, even if it is the scraps of my dignity.
And also, I couldn't help thinking: if I'm going to end up alone anyway, let's just end things now. Better to get it over with, right? If you end things, you're the one in control.
Not that I did any of that. Which seemed cowardly at the time, but I'm glad I didn't now.
I feel calm, somehow. A good night's sleep seemed to realign me emotionally, even though it hasn't managed to physically all these 10+ months. You win some, you lose some, I guess. It's not that I feel none of what I felt before, but the dramatic I-can't-handle-this-anymore, it's-all-too-much feeling I get sometimes, amplified by all those other feelings and the no sleep and the heat, that's gone.
I feel pretty good actually, better than before I had the 'what are we' conversation. I don't know if this is some kind of subconscious weird coping mechanism, but all of a sudden I can see the upsides to being fwb. I knew them before, in my head, but I didn't feel them. But now...
I saw him yesterday and the day before, and I feel, strangely, like I can be myself around him now. I feel more like me. And that feeling is unexpected, but really nice. Not that I was putting on a front before, but maybe there was a part of me always holding back a bit, afraid to offend and, I don't know, push away the possibility of him having feelings for me? I'm not sure. Because I'm not sure I wanted him to have feelings for me. But maybe I didn't want to cut off possibilities. But now that I know feelings are not a possibility, it makes me feel more at ease.
Being candid came more naturally, and speaking my mind felt easier too. It also feels easier to talk about my ex and other people, and not be concerned about if any of it bothers him. And to say that I don't feel like meeting up, or be protective about my own interests and time. I was able to tell him that I didn't want to have sex for a while to help with my injury, and I don't know why, but that felt really hard before. And now it's easy.
I guess what I'm saying is I feel a bit more like myself again. Both around him and not around him. And that feels...good? I think?
I think I also realized that being fwb doesn't mean this is a relationship that has to end. Yes, of course the 'benefits' will have to end if either of us want to consider serious relationships in the future, but that's not really all that important to me. And yes, I'm under no illusions that with any serious relationship there is a good chance we won't be able to keep a friendship. Maybe I won't even want to, then. But, at least for now, I'd like to try to stay friends if we can. Maybe there's more to us than the sex—it sure did feel like that before, not feelings, but the wanting to spend time together-but maybe there isn't. I'm ready either way.
And I guess time will tell.
I'm not sure if it's still lurking there, or if I've truly managed to work through it in my sleep, but at the very least, I feel settled.
It reminds me again that whenever my emotions are hard to deal with, I need to sleep on them first. I would've regretted it if I'd reacted on the spur of the moment and done...what? Hard to say what I would've done. Maybe the outcome would've been the same. Hard to remember since it's been a couple days now but I just remember feeling crazy, feeling trapped in the sticky thin wrapping of my skin, the residue of dried sweat from the heat of the day, that hottest day of the year so far, gripping me tight as a vise. Wanting to get away from myself, wanting to run and being unable to, and feeling so, so alone. Just thinking that I was hurting—hurting so much less than many others, this mild physical pain of mine, but yet, and yet, I thought about it like it was the end of the world... for a few solitary moments I didn't think I could endure one more moment of being less than whole. I cried about it, in the safety of knowing that no one could hear me, and as I did I thought over and over again.
Who would care if they did?
I felt so alone. I don't know if that's why, even as I turned over the possibility of ending things between me and him, I didn't think about it seriously. I would briefly think I should, envision myself waiting until after my birthday, after the things we'd planned, to tell him hey, maybe it's better not to continue this. And then I would think, if I was going to cut things off anyway, or worse if he was going to, why not do it now? Because what's the point of keeping something that won't last? Better to cut it off myself than have it pulled out from under me, right? But I couldn't bring myself to even consider saying the words for real. Not then. I think I didn't really want to. I thought: I might miss him. I thought: it's scary being alone.
Because it wasn't as if I knew what I wanted. From him, or in general. I never really know what I want. So it wasn't fair to ask him for anything, or to expect any different. I understood that much.
I just knew what I didn't want. And that was to be alone.
But that day it felt stupid, pathetic, to hold onto something just because of the possibility of loneliness. And I guess it hurt my pride too: if it was so easy for him to say, 'end things if you want', I wouldn't be the one to miss him. Or at least, I'd never, ever show it. Which is stupid, yes I know. But I want to have something to cling onto, even if it is the scraps of my dignity.
And also, I couldn't help thinking: if I'm going to end up alone anyway, let's just end things now. Better to get it over with, right? If you end things, you're the one in control.
Not that I did any of that. Which seemed cowardly at the time, but I'm glad I didn't now.
I feel calm, somehow. A good night's sleep seemed to realign me emotionally, even though it hasn't managed to physically all these 10+ months. You win some, you lose some, I guess. It's not that I feel none of what I felt before, but the dramatic I-can't-handle-this-anymore, it's-all-too-much feeling I get sometimes, amplified by all those other feelings and the no sleep and the heat, that's gone.
I feel pretty good actually, better than before I had the 'what are we' conversation. I don't know if this is some kind of subconscious weird coping mechanism, but all of a sudden I can see the upsides to being fwb. I knew them before, in my head, but I didn't feel them. But now...
I saw him yesterday and the day before, and I feel, strangely, like I can be myself around him now. I feel more like me. And that feeling is unexpected, but really nice. Not that I was putting on a front before, but maybe there was a part of me always holding back a bit, afraid to offend and, I don't know, push away the possibility of him having feelings for me? I'm not sure. Because I'm not sure I wanted him to have feelings for me. But maybe I didn't want to cut off possibilities. But now that I know feelings are not a possibility, it makes me feel more at ease.
Being candid came more naturally, and speaking my mind felt easier too. It also feels easier to talk about my ex and other people, and not be concerned about if any of it bothers him. And to say that I don't feel like meeting up, or be protective about my own interests and time. I was able to tell him that I didn't want to have sex for a while to help with my injury, and I don't know why, but that felt really hard before. And now it's easy.
I guess what I'm saying is I feel a bit more like myself again. Both around him and not around him. And that feels...good? I think?
I think I also realized that being fwb doesn't mean this is a relationship that has to end. Yes, of course the 'benefits' will have to end if either of us want to consider serious relationships in the future, but that's not really all that important to me. And yes, I'm under no illusions that with any serious relationship there is a good chance we won't be able to keep a friendship. Maybe I won't even want to, then. But, at least for now, I'd like to try to stay friends if we can. Maybe there's more to us than the sex—it sure did feel like that before, not feelings, but the wanting to spend time together-but maybe there isn't. I'm ready either way.
And I guess time will tell.
