I Still Think About Him Basically Every Time I Get A Quiet Moment: In A Fitting Room, At A Red Light,

I still think about him basically every time I get a quiet moment: in a fitting room, at a red light, in my office, in the shower.

Recovery is a bitch.

Too much information.

There is talk of sex under the cut. It is not graphic, and it is in reference to my recovery. But I mention orgasms and shaming.

My woman wants me to climax. I love her for it, and I can usually oblige. However some days my body is a bit more stubborn than others.

"What do you need?" She asks me. "What can I do?"

And this is another spot where I feel the depth of the damage he caused me. Many times, I don’t know what I need or want. It has never really been about me.

Most times, though,  I just don't have the ability to communicate it. I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

My brain swirls with too many bad experiences where I wasn't allowed to want anything.  He rarely asked, even conversationally, what I actually liked.  When I was asked and responded, I was corrected as if I didn’t know my own body, or he said “oh” in a disappointed tone, as though he was expecting/hoping I’d say something else.

Occasionally my response disgusted him; he told me he it was so awful he couldn’t continue unless we proceeded the way he liked it.  So I learned to ask for what he wanted, to ask for the things I knew would get him off quickly, and off me.  Sex was best served swift and efficiently.  

I am not there. But I hope she keeps asking. Maybe one day I'll be able to tell her.

I had a successful date. A very successful date.

“What would make someone want to stay in a relationship like that?”

It’s been two years tonight, as of this very moment. Two years since the first time I hated him for a minute. 

It took the worst thing that ever happened to me to get me to even consider leaving.  And it still took me a year.  

No Answer

Silly old emo song sent me into a flashback.

Once I was certain he’d walked away and was done with his rampage I’d take a moment to breathe before trying to stand up and evaluate the damage . 

More frequently as time went on I would think the same thing:  How did it come to this?

Visiting our grocery store today took my breath away. And I couldn't get it back.