It had been an interesting two weeks.
My life is lighter having switched roles in my professional association to one much calmer, and less time consuming.
A few months ago I made the decision to try at least one new thing each month. This month was a presidential rally for Bernie. I have never seen such a diverse group of people united for one purpose, and was awesome by the level of respect among the crowd.
A week ago I was determined to do on a date while visiting a nearby city. Didn’t happen, meandered about the town looking at architecture, visiting a ghost town of a formerly hopping mall, git bored and came home. Before I had even taken off my jacket I got a call from Krys (yes. That Krys that I had decided to let go of) He had just arrived at his mom’s from the airport. Ass, I just left that town and had I known could have saved him cab fare. Was I hungry? Shall we have dinner? OK.
We set plans to have dinner at my place. Had nice conversation. He helped with some chores. We talked. He ended up spending the night. I made the conscious choice to accept the familiarity and comfort of his company, and to snuggle and make love. Totally out of character for me, I also chose to do so without asking for “papers and protection” – reasoning that he is clean, does get tested, I have only myself to place at risk at moment, and am due for my own next physical any time.
In the morning I was walking on air as I showered, set out coffee fixings and a toothbrush for him, and left a note to take his time and lock up as he left.
Following day, I was feeling no regrets, though did ask him if he would mind being in contact so we wouldn’t get that little niggling voice in the back of the head of feeling used. And he did, beyond my expectations.
I had no misunderstanding that it meant anything more than it was. And I did not feel used. I do not feel like I used him. We both made conscious choices to enjoy each other’s minds, company, and bodies. It was such a totally different experience from the last time I was with anyone (my hookup with Writer after we were over).. When I was physically ill with shame and regret. Perhaps it was a good experience because we hadn’t chased it, planned the encounter, or used one another with a less than honorable intention.
I’m healing from my experience of Writer. That’s a good thing.