Sunday

I don’t know how to even begin this one.

Just know that this is going to be a long, emotionally transparent post.

I had my date on Sunday.

The plan was for him to pick me up at my place, go out to eat or something, and then maybe hang out at my place afterwards.

When he suggested that to me, my alarm went off and I told him that in my experience, that is a set up for a hook up.

He assured me that was not his intention.

Part of me wanted to believe him and the other part of me was alarmingly okay and prepared to go with it if it did take a turn that way.

This guy was…different.

Let’s call him Mr. A.

Like I had mentioned, he’s attractive enough, 29 years old, really into working out, boxing and his work, which is running sales and advertisements for businesses. Right now he’s at a tax relief law firm.

I picked up his social awkwardness right away.

He had difficulty keeping eye contact and sustaining even basic conversation. He wanted to sit and talk at my place for a little bit before going out but he hardly talked so I tried to ease the awkward silence by coming up with conversation, which would fall flat once it came to him.

The only topics he did talk about were the ones that pertained to him, boxing, work, and working out. He also obsessively checked his cell phone throughout his time with me.

At first I thought it was because he was nervous.

I’m a very forgiving and maybe too understanding person so I tried to be nice about it while also trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

I think I figured it out. I think he has Asperger’s Syndrome, which is on the Autistic spectrum which affects how someone relates to others, which would make sense why he fixates on certain things, has difficulty showing interests in other’s interests, and has difficulty with touch and eye contact.

This is how emotionally fucked up I am.

I didn’t care because the fact that he was robotic made it easier to experiment with him without feeling anything whatsoever.

To give myself a little credit, I did make small attempts to keep it as a simple date.

I sat on a different sofa than him.

I suggested we leave, but he said we would go in a little bit.

I kept the one sided conversation light and superficial.

But when he suggested I come sit next to him on the sofa, I obliged, knowing that it was because he wanted to kiss me.

You see, in the week that we texted, I usually initiated the conversations and during these conversations, he had mentioned that he wanted to kiss me because my lips looked “tasty”.

He put his arm around me and we talked a little before he went in for the kiss.

He wasn’t a bad kisser, in fact, he was quite passionate, but being that I had no connection to him at all, it was only minimally pleasurable.

He told me I was a good kisser. (yay for me?)

We made out for awhile and then he suggested we go lay down.

He said it would be just for a little bit and then we would go.

I already knew where it was heading but I went with it.

We laid on my bed and I could tell he was struggling to control himself.

Honestly, I think he was turned on the minute he saw me, I’m pretty good at reading people and men get turned on by anything.

His hands started to wander and at first I redirected him and reminded him that this wasn’t supposed to be a hook up.

He said he knew and that he was trying.

That didn’t last very long.

At that point, I already knew what was going to happen and I was going to let it.

So we had sex.

Right before he put he condom on, I told him I had never had sex with a guy.

He didn’t even blink, which is why I probably chose him to try it with.

Because he wouldn’t make it into a big deal, like there was some significance in him being the first guy, because there wasn’t.

It wasn’t special. I didn’t want it to be. I just wanted to try it and get it over with.

That’s called being emotionally fucked up and doing anything to get over the hurt.

He was gentle, checking in with me constantly to make sure I was okay.

It was the most attention he paid to me all evening.

I didn’t get any pleasure out of it.

If anything I was thinking that whenever I do finally have sex with someone I care about, at least it won’t hurt or be as awkward.

I did whatever he suggested, different positions, whatever, I might as well have been a blow up doll.

It was quiet and boring for me, not at all how I’ve enjoyed sex before.

Mostly I saw it as practice.

The most expressive things he said were in calling me “baby” and saying that my pussy felt good.

He got his, I just wanted it to be done.

Afterwards, there was no cuddling or talking.

In all honesty, I would have been okay if he had just left.

But he wanted to still go out to eat.

We left and he hardly talked or looked at me the entire dinner.

I felt even more alone being with him than when I’m really alone.

I asked him several times what was going on and he attributed it to his being very hungry and focusing on getting his food.

The dinner felt like it was forever.

Afterwards when he brought me home, he came back up with me and seemed to want to hang out some more, but really, I think it’s because he needed to charge his phone a bit.

He wanted to watch something on Netflix but I told him I was really tired.

So he sat and watched as I played with Valentine.

Eventually his phone charged enough and he got up to leave.

He kissed me several times, very passionately, and left.

I haven’t heard from him, but I suspect as the weekend comes closer, he might contact me.

I say this because he’s been looking at my dating profile several times a day, ever since we started talking.

I suspect I’m one of the things he’s become fixated on.

Anyway, I have no desire to see him again and I will be honest with him should he contact me.

Needless to say, I’ve been an emotional wreck.

I think I’ve been struggling and drowning for awhile now and this feels like I hit rock bottom.

Three different friends have told me that they worry for me, and truth be told, I worry for me too.

I’ve been altogether too reckless, meeting strange men and being too intimate too quickly, all while feeling absolutely nothing.

In theory, I think my finally having sex with a man was my way of experiencing it so that I know what it’s like and am no longer driven to engage in future risky behaviors as driven by my curiosity.

But also, I’ve been trying to fill a void. With all the wrong things and wrong people.

I had a long, heart wrenching talk with Olivia yesterday, in which I had an emotional breakdown.

I admitted and confronted lots of fears and thoughts that I had been stuffing down.

Olivia reminded me that God is not about shame and judgment. That it’s people who use that. And those people suck.

After crying and talking and praying with her, I decided that I’m ready to nurture my spirit again.

The idea of that feels good to me now.

I’m going to go to church with Olivia and see how that works out.

Because everything I’ve tried to do on my own to fix things has just made them worse.

And I know I need help.

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About samlobos

I am an avid fan of creating narratives in my head about random experiences and quotes for future books I will probably not write. I harbor a 15 year old girl in my psyche and like to solve world issues when I'm half asleep. View all posts by samlobos

19 responses to “Sunday

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