The last time I talked about D, I ended by saying that the relationship was amazing, but the ending wasn’t. As I’ve processed my heartache and come to a really good, logical place, one that prevents me from being angry at all and has me wondering if friendship will ever be a thing for us, I find myself thinking about the very best of the amazing parts of our relationship. The things that when I think of, I’m still flooded with that amazing emotion that enveloped me in that moment. Truthfully, there are so many good memories, it’s hard to narrow them down. There were so many nights on the couch where we just held each other and watched a movie, running our hands over each other’s or running our hands through each other’s hair (or lack thereof). There were so many lunches and suppers and drink dates where we sat and talked and held hands and just connected. There were so many super fucking sexy times in bed. I was trying to narrow it down to three. Three memories that if I only had three to hold on to, what they would be. It’s hard to do so. By a narrow margin, these three won out.
- The Robbie Burns night when A goaded me into coming and D was so happy I was there. The reaction on his face when he saw me. The way he said “My mind is blown!” and the actions he did as he said it. Many times. His wife giving me the bed for the night. Standing in their kitchen, D hugging both of us and telling us how much he loved us both and was so very happy. Drunk chatting until all hours of the morning including D talking about picturing us together and how it would look 20 years from now.
- The night we first said “I love you” to each other. The amazing IKEA date, supper at his favourite bar, walk, coffee, and that amazing, long, perfect kiss goodnight. The way my heart pounded so I thought it would jump out of my chest. The way I felt when he first said “Goodnight my love”, and the way it felt to whisper “I love you” in his ear. That amazing feeling of having him say it back.
- The night I gave him a long massage. I got chocolate flavoured/scented (it’s kind of awful, but he just thanked me for not picking cherry) massage oil and massaged him from head to ankle (I have a foot thing). What followed was hours of foreplay. It was sensual and soft and when that was done it was hard and sexy and amazing. I felt like I was showing my love through each touch of every body part. It was so….complete.
I miss D. Things happen in my life and I still catch myself thinking “I should text him to tell him”, and then I realize he’s no longer that person to me. He removed himself from that list in a horrible way. Writing out the above three scenarios hurt. It brought up the pain that I thought I’d waded through. The secret of course, is that I haven’t been thinking in detail about any of those things, but acknowledging and moving on. Writing them out meant thinking hard about the love we shared. What was amazing. What we’ve lost.
And I’m done. I’m putting D to rest. He’s gone from my life. So he’s gone from this blog too. I’m still a little sad about that, but the sadness too will end.