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18 Years Part 4

Part 4 of 4

By Nila DearPublished 5 years ago 13 min read

Finally, we were on even ground and grown-up!

A month later I was back in my hometown. Single, confused and in a mess of a place. I had left my heart behind with someone I loved very much, and moved home to get my life together. I was in severe emotional pain of all kinds and wanted a distraction. Him. See this is where the lines blur and my confusion happens with him. I had left someone in the city I loved and wanted to be with, but couldn't as I had to return home to the country. He had encouraged me to be free and single, to do as I want, even to hook up with *Jonathon. All I needed was an excuse to see *Johnathon and I was there, and what I did was wrong. I met him one arvo, and he told me to jump in his car, as he drove out into the bush I felt anxious, knowing what I was doing was wrong, but I felt I was already there so I might as well do it. He looked so unwell, the worst I have ever seen him look. His face was drawn and his beautiful sheen was dull. I felt so worried for him as he explained his ex was making his and his daughter's life hard. I felt pain for him as he told me. There was no way he was lying, excluding major details maybe, but nobody could look that unwell and be lying. We had a quick pash, then he bent me over his passenger seat from outside the car and did me quickly from behind. All he wanted was to get off. He didn't give a shit about my pleasure or my needs, just his own, blaming his current situation on having to leave so fast. As he drove me back to my car he asked all the questions he could, trying to make me feel needed and important. My gut churned. I felt like I had cheated and possibly you could count it as that. I hurt myself, and he hurt me by treating me like some random piece of arse. I did that to myself and I deserved the sickening feeling that comes with being used. What was I trying to prove? That I was single and could do what I wanted? It wasn't worth it that's for sure.

(For the other part of this particular event, read my story titled Coco on my Vocal page, it will fill in the gaps)

Almost a year went by, filled with dreams and quick rendezvous and more of me trying to delete him from my life with no success. Every time I dreamt of him, he would contact me. More night-time quickies under bridges and in car parks, with him rushing off afterwards and me feeling like a piece of arse when begging him to hang around a little longer never worked. Why was I never enough? After a few rolls in the hay, I cut him off. It was peaceful for a while I guess. But he never left my mind. He called me out of the blue one day (after I dreamt about him) and asked me if we could meet up for a coffee. Coffee? That was something new. He had sincerely expressed he would like us to sit like adults and have a catch-up. But by that time I was so jaded and mistrusting (not just of him but of guys in general) that I said, "Yeah maybe," even though my heart wanted it more than ever. I couldn't bring myself to agree and let myself back into that trap with him.

Months after my total silence I called him one day after a dream about him. I had been sick for days and was on my hallway floor outside the bathroom trying not to throw up. I knew that if I randomly called him in the middle of the day he would always answer, so I did, knowing everyone else that could help me were at work or away. I asked him to bring me lemonade. His parental instincts took over and he said, "Yep I'll be there in about an hour." Part of me prepared for him not showing up and texting me some excuse, instead I got a phone call from him asking which one I wanted, almost like he was stressing over it. It was cute. He messaged me when he was close and I went up to our usual meeting place, the top of my driveway and waited for him. A big council truck pulled up, and as I watched him jump down I stopped breathing.

"Hey, bub," he said with a huge happy smile. Fuck he made my heart race. I hugged him tightly. He smelled like working man, you know that smell ladies? It's amazing! We were so happy to see each other and a new sense of maturity and calm was in the air. As per usual, the tingling chemistry was ever-present, and as we talked and I drank my lemonade (relief) we grew closer to the other. He sat on my couch and I sat next to him with my legs over his. We were just vibing, close even after all that time like two magnets. I knew what I was doing was wrong but I just couldn't stop myself as I finally caved and we kissed. Hard, deep, passionate kisses. As he left to go back to work I felt great! No sinking feelings, no sadness as if I had my fill and my needs were met. Not long after that, I ended things with my boyfriend. He had gone for a two week working trip, which lasted over two months. He was working remotely and had no way to contact me. I knew over that time that he would have more permanent work away and that I couldn't handle a long-distance relationship like that. Sadly we parted ways.

I knew what I wanted and I knew what I needed. *Johnathon. I told him I was single and I had the house to myself that night, and he immediately made plans to come to my house. I was excited! This was the first time we would ever be alone, in the daytime, indoors. I knew what was going to go down ;)

It... went... DOWN! He kissed me so hard and carried me to my room and we just made intense, passionate, exciting love. We went crazy on each other it felt so freeing. Afterwards, there was a sense of relief between us, like as if what was pent up for decades finally had a chance to blossom. Then we laughed because he told his teenage kids we had left to get pizza, so he had to go. And I felt fine with it. I was always happy when my needs and expectations from him were met. And I see now how much I really did expect from him.

Not long after that, I met someone, someone amazing, someone so special. I fell in love so deeply and honestly with the most beautiful man I could ever have imagined. We quickly moved in together, which wasn't a mistake as it was one of the best things I ever did. I stopped thinking about *Johnathon as a lover and saw him as a friend. Rarely we would call each other and catch up, always after one would dream about the other. One day I was doing it tough, just a really low day where I couldn't get it together. Thinking through my mental list of people I could turn to at that moment, his name came up first, as I knew he would answer a random midday call. I was crying, and in his soothing voice, he calmed me and gave me advice on how to push through my issue. Then he thanked me for calling him, "I was having a tough time myself and your call has really made my day bub, thank you for calling me."

I found comfort not only in his help but that I had made other persons day despite struggles.

More dreams! Seriously! Although they had started to evolve now, I would dream about him being around me. Nothing sexual, no wanting or chasing him around, but him just generally around me. One day my Mum called me, said she had seen *Johnathon down the street and had a nice catchup with him. But I already knew she had seen him because I had dreamed about him two nights previously, then he had called me the next day. It never ceased to crazy me out to be really honest, the senses and connection between us was strong, and a hard one to ignore. I spent so many hours of my life explaining these dreams to my friends, with them being equally as confused and unsure as to what it all meant. I had even turned to astrology to find answers, but with none.

If you've read this story this far, I thank you again. It is a long one, but so much to retell. For me to write this out is cathartic, and it's helping me see my part in everything that happened and where I can improve myself. I'm getting to the end of it now, and there could be another part to the series one day, but for now, my chapter with him has ended.

One of the saddest events in my love life so far was recent. That beautiful man I met and fell in love with, we couldn't make things work. It wasn't for lack of love, friendship or trust, but external factors that created too much pressure for us to manage. I was completely heartbroken, truly. I felt so alone, betrayed by love, and I missed my best friend so much. So what do you do when you want sympathy and distraction? You call *Johnathon of course. At first, he was happy to see me, giving me a huge hug (always his shy self which I always found cute) but I wouldn't let him pull away. I wanted so much to feel. I held onto him tight until I felt his body relax into me and hold me tight. It felt like I was helping some sadness he had hidden deep inside too. We chatted and caught up, I told him my upset with my breakup, and as usual, he had soothing advice for me and calmed my guilt. He told me how he was cleaning up his life. That he had stopped his binge drinking and was reading up on self-help to better his quality of life for himself and his daughter. I was so proud of him, especially for getting sober. When he was drunk was more of the times he would contact me, all macho and full of liquid confidence. It used to make me wonder if he was intimidated by me, or felt he wasn't good enough for me, and reflecting now I realise that I always reminded him of how much he would dick me around and upset me. I never really apologised for my part in it all.

I was enjoying our catch up, we were clam and open and free with each other and it felt good until he did his usual shit and tried to get something sexual from me. And, as usual, I caved and did it just to stop him from hassling me, so that he would go back to talking to me.

"Please bub please, just suck my dick, I want you so bad every time I'm around you, it's your eyes."

Blah blah blah.

I'm ashamed that at my age, and so soon after a break-up, that I let this guy wear me down without barely a fight. So I gave him a handjob to shut him up, refusing to suck it and instead, whispering nothings in his ear to make him cum faster. It worked. I felt yuck, again. Then he did his next usual thing, suddenly having to go because he was "tired now" from cumming, and always leaving with looking at me directly and asking if I was ok a couple of times, to which I always nodded with a lump in my throat and a forced smile. He watched me go down the driveway to my house and waited until I had shut the gate to make sure I was home safe. And that was the last time I saw him.

That was a couple of months ago, and in the meantime, I had moved back to the city (yet again, refer to my story Coco for more details) and was having dreams about him again. One night I had a dream his daughter was in danger and messaged him the next day about it.

"You don't know what it means as a parent to have someone care about your child like that it's made my day," he responded.

We were back and forth in those few weeks, with me dreaming that he was around me, but nothing to do with love or sex, and he would dream about me too. Being literally fed up with it all I called him, "My Mum and Dad are going to Bali for 10 days, do you want to come and visit me?"

He told me he would love to come and visit, and that he would ask his boss for a long weekend the next day and keep me informed. I didn't trust his answer and I kept asking if he was genuine. He assured me over and over and over that he was going to come and see me, promising. But my gut still didn't believe him. Then he said he had to go shower.

"Video call me," I said.

Why did I say that? Oh yeah, for attention from him. So he did. Hassling me to show him my boobs and pussy, until finally I caved and took my shirt off, holding my phone so he could only see my boobs as I played with my nipples half-heartedly wishing he would just cum already. It worked, then he to go with the usual obligatory, "I'll call you back" (he NEVER ever called me back). I felt yuck.

My best friend was pissed off, as he had hated *Johnathon for years for treating me like shit, yet always been encouraging towards my efforts and always having my back regardless. But this time he was annoyed, knowing that I was being used and setting myself up for hurt again.

"But the dreams," I kept saying, trying to convince myself that it was to get answers and not self-sabotage. But I knew better deep down. So I messaged my friend, Coco, saying I couldn't hang out with him because I had arranged to see *Johnathon. And he was upset with me, which rarely happens as he is calm and collected and non-judgemental.

"He's just using you for sex. Why are you doing this to yourself? Fuck that guy, you do what makes you happy, but you're just going to get hurt again. They're just dreams, don't make them something they're not."

He insisted he wasn't upset, but I could feel it in his words that he was. That the time we had already spent together meant more than a fling, and that for the second time in my life I was putting *Johnathon before him just because 'I could.' It felt wrong, I could see what I was doing, I could see how I was pushing aside the nice guy who cared for the guy who would just use me up and disappear again, and I knew I had to learn from my mistakes and grow up. I didn't want this hold any more, the hold he had on me. The hold which I had let him have over and over and over again. The hold I had allowed myself to be under because I felt it was all I deserved. I texted him straight away, "I can't see you next week. I'm not ready. I'm sorry."

"Thanks for letting me know," was his response. I didn't understand the tone of the message, but I felt relief. I never wrote back.

The last time I spoke to him was a week ago. He video called me, drunk, pulling kissy faces and being all sultry into the camera. I said I had to go as I was hanging with my family, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. Someone who selectively responded to me texts, ALWAYS hassled me until I responded to his. He kept trying to call me but I kept rejecting the calls. I saw what everyone else saw, an asshole using me for his own benefit. Loneliness mostly, but also because I had made myself that available that I had used up all my respected credits. I felt disgusted in myself and done. Just DONE.

As I lie here now, tears dripping down onto my dog's fur, I feel pain. I feel sorry for myself for all the times he hurt me, for all the times I let myself be hurt by him. For the time I gave him phone sex to shut him up because I didn't have the self-esteem to stand up for myself and what I wanted. For the times I let him define my worth and who I was. For the times I saw an incredible person in him that he would hide and cover and sabotage. For the time and effort and TEARS I put into wanting and yearning for him. For all the attention I wanted from him that took the love and self-care away from myself. For the pain and love. I feel it all. I feel sad that such a powerful connection is lost to two people who just couldn't get it together. Who had been given this gift, only to tear it up little by little until it was just scars and fears left behind.

The Vampire or the Werewolf. The jock or the nerd. The peasant or the prince. Truth is we all have an element of fiction in our reality. The question is... Is it healthy? I don't know what I want you to take from this. There is a lot in this story, and a lot to be taken. For me, it's cathartic writing it out of my system. I will always have scars from him, I will always have that little piece of him on my heart for the rest of my life. I will always have some weird love for him. But what I won't do any more is give him my tears. I will not let this person define my self-worth, confidence and self-respect. I am a stronger and better person than he ever let me believe. And from this, I hope you take at least that.

Thank you for reading, I appreciate it. If you have enjoyed my writing, please leave a tip, and follow me on Instagram for more stories @nila_dear_vocal

(Photo by Alex Loup on Unsplash)


About the Creator

Nila Dear

True stories of love, relationships, heartbreak, & happiness.

Shared in hopes you find entertainment, laughter, tears, mistakes, growth, recognition, reflection, education, hope, realisations, comfort, & something positive.

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