I have started, stopped, deleted, and re-written this entry about five times since Saturday. Initially I was going to write about my impossibly challenging week last week. How I was so over everything that I actually left work early on Friday. How almost every aspect of my life was in conflict. How my former husband is destroying all of the confidence I’ve gained and hard work I’ve done to rebuild after he left. The more time I put between myself and last week though the easier it is to realize how unimportant it was in the grand scheme of things.
When it comes to my former husband, I need to be done with him. No friendship, no contact, no chances for him to weasel his way back into my life. Every time we need to handle something he throws a hissy fit, his lawyers get mean, and I regress. I become a stressed out emotional mess. I loose my ability to be smart and reasonable and rational. I get anxious and worked up. I cry and wish he’d come home. When I put a little distance between him, myself, and our ongoing divorce though I start to remember who I am, or who I’ve become. I’m reminded that I’m doing so much better without him. I’m reminded that he is not capable of being the man I need or deserve. I am reminded that there are better men out there. I get a little clarity. That’s exactly what happened this time, thankfully.
Luke came over on the weekend and if I’m being honest, he was exactly what I needed. His cuddle game is strong. I’m not sure if it’s just that he’s a big buy and I’m so small, or if it’s chemistry but he feels safe. He’s 6’2, broad shoulders, big hands, arms, feet. I suppose anyone would feel safe cuddled into that. Before Luke, before my former husband left, sex was how I got my frustrations out and would unwind. It was the one aspect of my life where I could just let go and not need to be in control. Sure, sex with Luke is great and I certainly have a need, want, and desire for it… but it’s different. We don’t have sex every time we’re together, which I think says a lot considering we don’t live together. Nights where we curl up together in bed watching television seem to be becoming fairly common.
Before I got married smoking weed, or eating sandwiches as I like to call it, was something I did recreationally a few times a week. Socially of course. It wasn’t something my former husband really approved of. I loved him more than I did sandwiches so I stopped. As it turns out, Luke enjoys the occasional sandwich on the weekend. We’d been discussing sharing a sandwich and then fooling around for a few months now but hadn’t gotten around to it. Until this weekend.
If I could say anything about this experience it’s that is was a good life choice. For the longest time I just cuddled into Luke and played with his chest hair. Eventually he turned my TV off and started to kiss me. Everything just felt heightened. Every time he touched me I felt like I needed to catch my breath. He has more experience than I do so he often takes the lead. It’s normally pretty good but this was next level. I’m not sure if he just brought his A game or if it was the sandwich but I’d never felt like this before. By the time we were done I was mush. It was like I had melted into my mattress. I couldn’t move or speak or function. I may have left nail marks on the arm he had wrapped around me. That good.
That was my clarity. In that moment I had a very important first. A first that everyone should experience. A first that people experience on a regular basis. It was something that I had started to believe didn’t actually exist. How could I be a little over a month shy of 29 and have never experienced this before? How could I possibly have willingly committed my entire life to a man who was clearly never going to be able to give me that experience? It was the motive I needed to close the book on my former husband. If he were to come back I would never have that again.
When sharing my new experience with a close friend she just laughed at me. After all the pain he had caused, all the stress and grief he provided, she told me that this orgasm, my first, should make the divorce and the last two years of hell worth it. She was right. You’d think that being 28 and divorced that I’d be all out of firsts. Luke seems to be opening up a whole bunch of doors for me though. Six months ago I didn’t think this was going any where. Luke was a friend with benefits, a rebound to get my mind off of my former husband, a distraction from the chaos that was my life. The more time we spend together the more things evolve. It’s slow going, and I’ve never been one to be patient but I think we might be on the right track to something. At the very least, he’s a good reminder of what I’ve been missing out on!