Letting Go

It's a strange moment when I realize that my body isn't mine anymore.

We've been hanging out as friends. I could feel the desire to have more constantly fraying at my nerves. He knew this either consciously or subconsciously and toyed with that knowledge consistently.

Tonight I finally accepted that I am not in control.

I even masturbated before going over for the evening. I let it be what it was and enjoyed watching a movie, eating pizza and laughing at laughable things. He would touch me or just look at me in 'that way'. I can't help what happens to me. I'm so susceptible to the tiniest changes with him.

I've fought it for so long. When he starts 'things' I submit immediately. When he stops I switch back to friend mode. I suddenly realized the freedom in letting him lead where the evening flowed.

I have been in control of myself for so long, I didn't realize that it was okay to let go. It's truly what I've been constantly trying to achieve. I feel so comfortable in his presence and I trust him completely. He reads me better than even my best friends because he knows an even more intimate side of me.

The grasping that I've felt since the 'break up' has finally passed. I find myself enjoying this new dynamic for many different reasons. Granted, it's not the same as the previous one, but I still feel content and that my needs are being met.

Here's to hoping I trust myself well enough to know if things need evolving again.

In these moments, I'm happy. That's what matters honestly.

Stress

I sit in my incredibly tiny cottage in an alien area of town. It's strange being on my own yet again. I have deep seated fears that I'm going to become lonely and weird again. I am beginning to succumb already. I feel as though I'm in exile.

My landlord informed me that the neighbors are unfriendly and possessive of their areas. I can't help but sigh inside. I feel the constant pressure to accommodate any person I'm around no matter where I live and the steady stress of it wears.

To top it off my old roommate and childhood friend shed no tears at my leaving. He was quite neutral about the whole endeavor. I've known for a while that there is a decided separation slowly developing between us. It was saddening to have it confirmed.

Today he informs me that my dog is no longer welcome at the old place.

My dog.

Gwen.

She is the greatest source of tension for me. The move was to accommodate her medical conditions. I know that in her old age with the behavior issues that come with that, that she is grudgingly accepted by friends. No one says it outright, but body language and subtle comments make their feelings for her known.

Every time she barks I worry, every time she has an accident I feel mortified. Thoughts of constantly scheduling walks, how much time she can be left alone, how to bring her with me places etc rifle through my head.

Yet with all the responsibility of her, she has always been my constant companion. She makes this cottage feel like a home, her abject devotion tugs at me heart. I know I don't have much longer with her and I feel badly for these resentful thoughts.

The endless pool of positive thoughts I generally have has now become a puddle. I know I need to refill it somehow. I don't want to expect people to keep me from myself. Perhaps this change will be a searching within, a way to find independence. Maybe I'll go crazy.