She is gone. I lost her somewhere in the fog of war and the dissolution of a marriage. Hers, not mine.
The engagement continues. I have disconnected my heart from my penis. One of the things we got right. Sex. First an enticement. Then a liability. Then, in the heat of a negotiation, “Is this relationship just about sex?”
Oh. Damn. That one hit deep.
“Let’s both answer that question.”
“Okay.”
“You wanna take a shot?”
“Sure. Um. The sex is really good. It’s where we most shine. And if that’s all there is, that’s okay. We just need to be honest about it.”
“I’m confused. Can you say that again?”
“Well, we don’t spend all that much time together outside the bedroom, in the outside world, doing things.”
“It was your request.”
“Well, I don’t know if you want to be with me. If you even like me. Except for the sex. I know you like that.”
“And you like that, as well?”
“Oh, yeah. The sex is great. And it’s okay if that’s the main basis of our relationship, we just need to be open about it.”
“It’s not okay with me.”
“What?”
“If sex is the point of this relationship for you, I’m done. I don’t want any part of that. It’s an invalidation of everything we’ve been doing the last three weeks.”
“Don’t yell.”
“Yell? Fuck! I can’t get the tone of my voice right. I can’t get the body language right. My words, my facial expression. I have no idea how to be.”
“You don’t need to yell.”
“I raised my voice. I’m frustrated.”
“Why do you do this? Can you let it go? Move on?”
“What? What am I doing?”
“Making a big deal out of nothing. Trying to start a fight. Lecturing me about relationships.”
“Fuck. No.” (pause) Whispers, “Please, no.”
“Very unappealing when you’re like this!”
“What am I like, right now?”
“Angry. Yelling. Closed off. Shut down.”
“I’m not shut down, I’m telling you exactly how I’m feeling.”
“You keep blaming me, but it’s you that can’t let stuff go.”
“We can’t let go of sex, dear. Or not have a conversation to reach some resolution. Right?”
“Deal killer,” you say.
“Yes, if you can’t hear me. If I can’t figure out how to speak to you without getting the empty eyes of hurt and anxiety. I don’t know how to bring you back.”
“You’re the one who can’t let go. The one who’s triggered.”
“Um… Do you think that is a true statement?”
Silence. Consideration. And…
“No.”
“Thank you.”
*ignore the creepy ai image if you can, might replace later
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