Date #48 – The End ✅

So, my journey with the spaniard is over. Not long after my last post I began to question whether I really wanted to be with J in the long term, if that’s where things were headed. At the same time, I didn’t feel like he knew what he wanted either and, again, whether he really liked me as much as I wanted him to and whether I liked him as much as I should. There was something niggling me, maybe a few things actually. I was having serious reservations about him potentially moving in with me, particularly as we hadn’t really discussed anything serious and I’d really need to know on what basis he would be doing so. I wrote a message to send him, but I didn’t want to say what I had to say to him by text, out of the blue.

I was going abroad for a week and he said he wanted to see me before I left, but our working hours were incompatible, so I suggested we leave it until I got back. At that point, by text, he asked if moving in was still a possibility. I took the opportunity to ask what he actually wanted and made it clear that he should tell me the truth – if he just wanted to be friends (and that’s where I felt it was going) he could tell me and I wouldn’t be upset. He confirmed “plain friends” was what he wanted, and I agreed. I didn’t need to say anything more because the decision was easily made and I felt relieved. In the beginning I’d had a great time with him. Week by week those intense feelings gradually lessened and while I still loved to spend time with him, I wasn’t as enthusiastic as I had been at the start. I think the fact that I could sense he just wasn’t as into me as I needed him to be was a big factor in that. Also, the sex wasn’t as enjoyable. After all that time, he’d still not given me oral sex, yet expected it in return, he barely kissed me, there was a lack of tenderness, and actually I was sensing some misogynistic tendencies during the act.

Anyway, I was very happy to remain friends with him because I felt we had developed quite a bond, but I needed to reflect further on whether I would feel comfortable if he moved in, given how intimate our relationship had been. It would be a bit weird, so I told him I wanted to think about it a bit more so I could adjust our relationship in my head and then I would confirm. I only imagined it would take a few days to do that. J was fine with that. He said he would try to call me the next morning, as he was working late that night and was texting me secretly while at work. I said he didn’t need to call, but he said he wanted to; I’m not sure why.

About an hour later, someone sent me a message on WhatsApp and when I opened up the application I was faced with a ghost profile from J. I was DEVASTATED. I could not believe what I was seeing. Considering how well our discussion had gone and the fact that we had been friends and lovers for three months, I did not understand why he had suddenly abandoned me. I burst into tears and my devastation spurred me on to tell him exactly what I thought of his behaviour. In an instant, I felt totally betrayed and used. If I couldn’t trust him, who could I trust? I was so happy to remain friends with him and didn’t want to lose touch, or at least end things that way. The thought that he wanted to cut me off so coldly, after we’d seemingly both been fine with the mutual decision to stop being intimate, I just could not cope with at that moment.

Well, it turns out that I jumped to conclusions. After I’d projectile vomited my emotions in his direction, he responded to say that he’d ghosted his profile while he was at work so that he could continue to text people without getting caught. I didn’t understand his logic and I’m unconvinced by his explanation. Ghosting a profile draws attention to it, rather than deflecting attention away. I wonder if he was testing me, to see how I would react. In three months he’d never done anything like that. It was seriously bad timing.

Anyway, our union ended in the most dramatic fashion, unfortunately. I cried my eyes out that night. I was so hurt, and even though there was, apparently, a misunderstanding on my part, it made me further realise that I just didn’t trust him and, therefore, being friends was not a likely outcome. The next day (and his WhatsApp profile was back to normal by that point) I apologised for overreacting and duly wished him well, and he returned the favour. He said he would contact me again with a more thorough explanation, but he didn’t, so that’s that.

Looking back, I definitely had a good time with J. We had some really lovely and funny moments, and such good discussions. It was such a lovely way to spend the summer. The sex was mostly good and he really had a perfect penis (yes, I know that’s shallow, but we just happened to fit together very well). If the sex had been a bit more varied and less selfish from his point of view, I would have said it was fantastic every time. But in other ways it wasn’t a perfect union. I felt uncertain and uneasy much of the time too. I also felt like he was taking advantage of me a lot and his arrogance (self-admittedly) was becoming ever more apparent.

The plaster has been ripped off, which exposed an open wound for a few days. That’s all it took to heal the wound though and now I just feel relieved, calm and happy to be exploring other avenues, which incidentally don’t revolve around men and/or dating.

That said, I still have one foot in the door. I’m not the same girl I was a year ago. My enthusiasm for dating and sex has lessened considerably. I’ve always thought of my previous dates as meaningful. I didn’t want mindless sex with people. I connected with each of them on a human level and we had a lot of fun exploring each other in mind, body and soul. But now I want something else, something more stable and serious, if anything. I just don’t want to call it a relationship or for it to have that level of commitment because, to me, it’s rather meaningless. Basically, I want to connect and spend time with someone who really cares about me, deeply.

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