Gaslighting

Eleven years ago, I met the man who would keep me up at night for many years to come. He was gorgeous, affectionate, and sensual. I had never before nor after met someone so attuned to my physical needs and desires. Long nights of incredible love-making, though, would be followed by weeks of uncertainty, doubt, and turmoil. 

I recently had the epiphany that our entire "relationship" was an elaborate ruse. The truth only came out after several months, when a bystander to our situation forced the issue. To this day, I wonder if I had never been anonymously contacted would he have ever disclosed his lived reality. Yet knowing the truth, I made the obligatory excuses to stay with him.  Every plea for more time together was met with excuses. And when things soured between us, I was the one made to feel that it was my fault, that I had done something wrong.

Yet for years, I still longed for his touch, his attention, his approval. For despite all the noise, I couldn't get his caress, his kiss, his embrace out of my mind. Damn an expert gaslighting narcissist. 

A Case of You

I married later in life. I love my little Lizard, but I had a life before him that included a lot of wonderful people. Maybe you're lucky you met your person in high school or college; I did not. I miss some of those people who helped shape me into the person meant for my husband, many of whom I'll never have another opportunity to say thank you for that. 

I could drink A Case of You by Tori Amos (originally made popular by Joni Mitchell). 

NO!

My husband and I recently attended one of our first social dance events post-pandemic. This particular event holds a lot of sentimental value, as it's where we first met. 

I sometimes get asked to dance, and I typically decline. At this point in my life, I'm very content to watch the talented dancers shine, especially my husband. For those of you familiar with the social dance scene, this is often considered a faux pas, of which I'm well aware, but guess what...I have every right to say no.

99% of men take it in stride and move on. However, at this particular event, one gentleman chose the rejection as an opportunity to sit down and strike up a conversation with me and a pregnant woman to my right. Why don't I want to dance? Don't I want to have fun? Why do I look bored? All whilst gesturing profusely and at one point even brushing my breast and touching my arm.

I've always entered into these forced interactions with men compliant at first, but as they descend into uncomfortability, my pleasantries and patience wane quickly. After a minute or two, in front of unknown bystander to my right, I finally told him it was time for him to leave. In hindsight, I should have answered his very first retort with, None of his damn business.

I'm 40+ and I'm still trying to be nice to men, a realization that greatly disappoints me. Decades of a Southern upbringing where politeness and cordiality + college are supposed to result in an Mrs. degree...because what else could there possibly be in life?

Men, I can't imagine how hard it must be to indicate interest to a woman, but if she says no once, to any question, leave her alone. And it shouldn't take faking a wedding band to keep the predators at bay.

Potato Chips

The first time. For some it's uneventful, anti-climactic (pun intended), and unmemorable. I'm glad that wasn't my experience. I waited. 

But once I got a taste, it was like a potato chip. One just isn't enough. I became insatiable. And as the years have passed, that desire has waned, but every once in awhile, on a Thursday, it comes back, hot and forceful. 

Soap

He smelled like soap. Clean and sweet. Untouched and unspoiled. Innocent. I swear I could still smell him, his scent, the entire 14-hour journey home across the Atlantic. And every once in awhile, I catch a whiff of it, lingering in the air, and the nostalgia overwhelms me. 

After

 "There are moments in our lives that seem to define us. Moments we keep going back to." Like the moment on the dock in the moonlight seeing my soul reflected back at me.

"She took my hand and led me out of the darkness and showed me that, whatever our souls are made of, hers and mine are the same." And in that moment, we were one and the same. 

"My life before him was so simple and decided. And now, after him, there's just, after." And that's what it's been for over nine years now. Just after.