Counseling Session #2
Well, second day in counseling and I think… to be perfectly cliche… I had a break through.
I am not sexually attracted to him and therefore our relationship is doomed.
As independent as I am in every other area of my life, I still need a man’s affection to feel attractive and loveable. So although I can’t remember the last time he’s given me an orgasm and I don’t respect his intellect and feel that he is not driven or passionate about anything in life, I have continued to stay with him because I have a fear of being alone and never finding another man who will love me as completely as he does.
And it is totally true. No wonder I have continuously looked outside our relationship for physical fulfillment. No wonder as soon as I feel insecure I find myself dialing those old dependable phone numbers that connect me to voices of men who I have no real interest in, but who all dote on me and make me feel pretty.
So, what was the doctor’s prescription for this illness? 6 months free from any kind of romantic/flirtatious attachments to men. No communication with him at all. 6 months free of all men. No testosterone in my life until November 5th. No sex until November 5th. No kissing until November 5th. No late night phone calls. No dates. Nothing for over 180 days. Half a year. Alone. Over 180 nights without anyone’s arms around me as I sleep. Wow.
Panic. Fear. Anxiety. Depression. Loneliness. I could already feel, smell, see, hear every emotion I would be flooded with over the next 6 months. But would they last the entire time?
I can’t count all the times I’ve gone on and on with my friends about how independent I am. How little I need a man to feel complete. Isn’t it time I walk the talk?
So I call him and tell him.
6 months? We haven’t gone over a week without speaking in 6 years. How in the hell are we supposed to make it 6 months without any contact?
3 months?
3 months is still a very long time for us. Why can’t we just go a month?
A month. Ok. 1 month and we’ll see how things go from there.
And then we said I love you, I love you so much, I’ll always love you, don’t forget how much I love you. Good bye for one month.
And I cried. Because I knew. I knew what will happen on June 5th. On June 5th he’ll call me. And he’ll have missed me, and he’ll think we’ve done our time and we can start all over and be together again and everything will be perfect. He’ll have counted down until June 5th.
And I’ll have been ok for that month. Happier maybe. Proud that I could make it 31 days without relying on any kind of male attention to feel sexy or confident or compete. I’ll want that feeling to continue. I’ll be at peace with the end of us. I’ll be even more certain that his perfect person is the stereotypical kindergarden teacher - loving, kindhearted, gracious, simple….and my perfect person is someone challenging, ambitious, driven, intellectual, competitive, passionate, intense, assertive. And I’ll feel perfectly comfortable and content sitting back and waiting for that person to come into my life, enjoying my time with my friends and dedicating myself to the eight billion activities and organizations I will have committed myself to outside of work.
And his heart will break. And I’ll cry again because no matter what I’ll always love him so deeply and I’ll never want to hurt him. But I’ll be strong enough to recognize those will never be good enough reasons to stay.
But until that moment comes, it’s time to really dedicate myself to being happy with just myself for at least 31 days.
So goodbye skin and sweat and groans and moans and whispers and teeth grazing salty necks and sheets being winded and clinched and clinched and clinched…. and then siiighs and giggles and smiles and gentle kisses and holding…. and holding… and intertwining hands… and waking up to lips gently resting on shoulders and “are you awakes”….
