It’s 1:28 am right that this moment; The moment I began this blog post. I cannot sleep. My face hurts, my body tingles, and my mind won’t shut up. I have so many worries going on inside, I just can’t slow it down enough to relax. I have killed my phone at least 5 times today, and my laptop twice. Here I sit in bed, after hours of looking at random photos on the internet, and my mind still wanders.
I usually entertain myself until my body is so exhausted, I simply can no longer stay awake. But today I was so exhausted, I figured I wouldn’t have to do anything to wind down and make it stop. I posted earlier about the pain I was feeling, and I still feel all of that pain. Though the baking soda has settled a bit of the stomach pains, my head and general self still ache as much as it did earlier. I am too afraid to take a pain pill, as I am certain that I will not be able to get up and go to work in the morning like I very MUCH need to do.
Tonight I was supposed to spend time with Jess. Jess.. I have yet to mention him, but he has been a very minor part of my life over the last few weeks. A 34 year old successful Producer/Restaurant Co-Owner with an odd personality, and a very touchy feely vibe. I can’t help but think: What the HELL does he want with me? But I already know. He finds me interesting, and at least mildly entertaining, and so he spends a bit of time with me here and there. He has money out the wazoo, and seems like he generally gets what he wants, but I think my general indifference for it all peaks a bit more of his interest. In fact, all I have ever asked of him so far was to bring me some extra cranberry juice because my kidneys hurt, and I needed something to mix with my vodka. I really don’t care what money he has. What he drives. What he can or can’t buy for me. I have no interest. I really have little interest in him as well, though he is quite attractive. He is funny, smart, successful, and is very good at relaxing muscles. He tends to go on about his famous encounters with sports idols, and other such things, but I really couldn’t care less about David Beckham, or how many of his signed jerseys he has. All that really keeps me interested in Jess is the soft way he has about him, and how I feel so safe in his arms. Now, is this a real, stable, or emotional safety? God.. no. But for some reason his body, his mouth, feels so familiar and safe.
I am pretty sure that nothing will come of this, as I don’t have feelings for Jess. I mean, come on. I blew the guy off because I had a headache and I don’t feel well. I NEVER once asked Jeff not to come over because of the above, and never would have. If anything, it would have been MORE of a reason to have him over, right? I would have begged “dead horse” to come over and hold me until all hours of the night! You would think I would do the same with Jess, considering the safety I feel in his arms. The more I think about that feeling, the more I think it may be his health. Jess is very fit and healthy. He eats well, and exercises daily. He has a nice firm body, but such soft skin. What I would honestly expect a man like him to feel like. When we cuddle up to watch a movie, he insists on having skin on skin cuddling, which as someone with a chronic illness, I am more than happy to accommodate. That goes back to the cuddle therapy I am randomly referring to, and how much it can help me. So, laying wrapped up on my couch, skin on skin (fully clothed, pervs), shirts lifted so his belly touches my back, or vice versa, I feel safe and warm. The first time that Jess kissed me, it had such a long build up, that it was such an odd release. We had been skin on skin cuddling for over two hours, changing positions for comfort (mostly my achy body, which he was very understanding about), and finally came face to face. He had no interest in what was on the television, but I did, so he faced me. Wrapping his arm around, and making me do the same, he looked deep into my eyes. Even at that moment I knew there wasn’t anything real between us, and likely never will be, but it was oddly very comfortable and sensual. Even in that moment my mind went back to Jeff, and how I used to lay so close to him. Skin on skin. Yeah.. never again. He leaned his face into mine, softly brushed my hair from my cheek, and kissed me so softly I could barely feel it. It was as though he was just carrying on the skin on skin therapy.
Soft, sweet cuddles and touches for hours on end that lead into soft sweet kisses was something I had never experienced before. The amount of comfort and ease to it was only strange to me later, as in the moment it was so smooth and natural. It never got intense. It never turned into a lustful, crazed make out session. It was soft, and sweet, and almost loving, but devoid of emotional ties. It was an odd body connection, and honestly, I was very much looking forward to doing it again. Then I got sick.. and this pain.. this borderline agony, took over. I know where Jess wanted our meeting to go, and I can’t say that I would deny him. It almost took that turn last time, and for a moment it seemed so natural. Luckily we both slowed down, as I said it was never a lustful, sex crazed moment, but I can see where it could likely go. I just wasn’t feeling up for it tonight, especially since my head is spinning around “the dead horse” that I keep kicking. (I know it is cruel to refer to him as a dead horse, but I just can’t bring myself to type his name anymore, and I am aware of how obsessive I am, and that the situation with him really IS me kicking a dead horse) I just can’t bring myself to spend time with another man when my head won’t stop inserting him into everything that I do. I have spent the entire weekend alone with my kids, despite the many offers I have had for company. Not sexual company (ok, maybe a few offers for that, once again politely declined), but general company. I denied them all an invite, for various reasons, but mostly because when I am feeling like this; When I am in pain, and sorrowful. When I just want to curl up in the lap of someone I trust.. the only face I want to see.. the only hands I want on me.. belong to that “dead horse”.