One day last week I had an urge to see my cousin. I went into town today and coincidentally, bumped into her, I didn’t know why I needed to see her until today. She recommended a book trilogy to me which I downloaded. I read the first book over Friday night through to this morning and started on book 2 this afternoon. The story is one of passionate love, sex but ultimately of two people that adore each other and just can’t get enough of each other. It’s badly written and not my usual kind of thing but I couldn’t stop reading. The more I read, the sadder I became and the emptier I felt.
Over the last two days, I have once again pinned all my hopes of love on Tom, a man that has never shown me love in the way I need to receive it. I have always come 2nd, 3rd, 4th or 5th to him but never 1st. Never. I want to be someone’s first. Not all the time but much of the time. I don’t want to come after the children, I want to come equal to them. I don’t want to come after alcohol, food, work, family, holidays, nights out, friends. I want a man to feel about me that he has to see me, that he can’t wait to get me into bed, that he just wants to spend his life with me. If I were to try and pursue anything with Tom, I would be getting a part-time affair. I would come way down the list after Annie, the other kids, work, food, alcohol, family, friends. I would get to see him only during the day when he has no work on and taking me to bed and ravishing and loving my body would not be a priority for him the way I want it to be.
I don’t think for one second that sex is the be-all and end-all of a relationship, I think there are many many things that are more important or equally as important as sex but it still rates pretty highly in my list of priorities. Sex, physical intimacy, touching, kissing, hugging; they’re all vital components of what’s needed in a relationship. I need physical intimacy the way I need oxygen. It is my lifeline, it is my only source of touching base, of feeling truly alive and truly connected to another human being.
Touch is what I lacked my entire childhood. Nobody touched me, hugged me, kissed me or embraced me physically in any way, not from an age I can remember anyway. My first memorable experience of touch was when I became interested in boys and allowed them to touch me. I couldn’t get enough, it became my drug of choice. It was never really about the sex, it was always just about being wanted and loved.
My relationship with Tom almost killed me inside because at every turn he refused my advances for touch. He wouldn’t have sex with me and he wouldn’t hug me or even kiss me towards the end. If he had just made the effort to put me first once in a while, to give me the air I needed to breathe, we could have stood a chance but when I got to the point of feeling as though the life had been sucked out of me, when I’d been starved of oxygen, I left and yet here I am again, yet again, contemplating something with Tom which I know and accept will cause me more pain than pleasure and that will leave me battered and gasping for air by the time he’s finished neglecting my very basic needs.
Why do I do this to myself?
Today, as I read the book and felt myself get lower and lower, I realised how empty my life really is, how starved of oxygen I am and that I am looking in all the wrong places for a supply because, at this point in my life, I don’t know where else to find it. I realise too that the asthma that has plagued me almost my entire life, since about the age of 4, is most probably down to the lack of physical affection. I have been starved from such a young age of the one thing that I need to feel alive and yet as an adult, I now choose to keep a supply at bay. I don’t need to rekindle something so painful with Tom, a man who ultimately does nothing but ensures his own needs are met when all I need to do is find a man who is willing to meet my needs with love.
By being with Tom I’d be denying myself that chance. If I can just hold my head above water a little longer and somehow find the motivation to get myself out of this rut I’ve fallen into, I may just be able to start attracting into my life a love worthy of having, a love worthy of sharing all that I am with. Tom doesn’t deserve my love and I don’t deserve what he has to give to me. Tom is not right for me and equally, I am not right for him. Feeling empty, as I do now, sucks but feeling empty while with someone and constantly fighting for your very life’s blood is even worse. I can’t go down that route again.