I won’t be talking about it anymore.

It’s finally over. Thankfully. And I feel good about it. Strong. I’ve said my piece, he’s heard me, took it like a man. When I learned that he really is trying to date 4 am girl I told him I was out, that I wouldn’t fuck him if he was fucking her or anyone else, or even if he took another woman out for fucking coffee. I can’t handle it. I can do the NSA fucking, but only if I’m the only one.

We spent some time talking yesterday afternoon. Tears leaked down my face as I explained to him that the biggest lesson for me out of this is that I am drawn to those who reject me and that my life’s work this time around is to try to learn how to let someone love me and accept me and actually want them back. He said his biggest lesson was that he realizes that his actions don’t always match his real feelings and he now sees how confusing it can be for someone. We’re going to be ok.

I told him he’s now allowed to take out my trash again and keep vacuuming for me. He said it was a deal only if I’d take him shopping again sometime. We shook on it. He wants desperately to keep my friendship and I his. We’ve agreed on a couple of hang out sessions a week and an occasional outing as friends. I have resolutely refused to accept her and I have been nothing but clear on my feelings.

He wondered why I was so mad at her. “We were imploding anyway. You were going to dump me on the 20th.”

“She made it 10x more painful for me. She sat in my house and said she was going for you, said hurtful things. You ran right into her arms. I’ve had no time to fucking process! It was a shit show. Or a piss show rather.”

“Hey, that was below the belt.”

“You’re damn right it was! It was all over the crotch, too!”

He’s fatalistic about this relationship he’s embarking on and I told him to be more optimistic. He agrees that she has a drinking problem, but he admires her for other things and thinks he’ll benefit from this with her. I don’t get this guy. I also asked him, one last time for clarification, why it was he didn’t want to be with me. “You’re not the right person for me. Is that a good enough reason?”

“Sure it is. Is it because of all that deal breaker stuff you said in the beginning?”

“Yeah. Age, kid, marriage.”

“Marriage? You mean because I’ve been married?”

“Yeah.”

And then, just like that, all my angst, all my pain, all my wounded confusion dissipated like a cloud of smoke. I did a happy dance, smiled more, beamed, really. His life is so about “The Plan” that he really can’t see the forest through the trees and finally realizing this frees my heart. He’ll never get it. He’ll never get me. I have to move on.

We hugged again and it felt good. I teased him that now she could shave his back for his laser hair treatments. He made a painful smile and rolled his eyes.

He came back over around 8 and vacuumed for me and apologized for his hardon the second he came through the door. I was braless as usual and I smiled. “Pavlov?” was all I said.

“Yeah, something like that,” he murmured back as he adjusted himself.

I bounced on the couch with glee as he cleaned my floor and he complimented my tits. I wondered if he was going to tell 4 am girl that he’d slept with me last weekend. “No, because we hadn’t had the exclusive discussion, yet.” Ah, gotta love hair-splitting.

We watched a movie on my couch then and I whimpered about my back pain. He went and got my vibrator and curled behind me and massaged my back with it. I clutched the couch and twitched as he rubbed it deep into my muscles. He said it was hot. I iced it for a while longer and then he massaged it again. I could feel the tip of his cock on my buttock, but didn’t move.

His hands replaced the vibe and could feel it in my jaw and my ankle. The pain was exquisite, his ministrations kind.

After the movie, I smoked a cigarette and he kept me company. He had to go get 4 am girl at 2 am from a bachelorette party. They have plans on going to an amusement park today and it’s easier than driving all over town, he said. I wondered if that was such a good idea to be hungover on a rollercoaster. I told him to be careful of the drunks on the road, “And in the car!” He’s not loving my sarcasm, but I seem unable to help myself.

I walked him back to my door and we hugged again. I’m going to miss this motherfucker inside of me like nobody’s business, but I don’t want him anywhere near me so long as he’s sticking in her.

I woke up at 2 and thought, “He’s on his way to get her.” At 4:30 I thought, “She’s next door.” Now I’m on my balcony waiting for the inevitable run-in as she feeds her Parliament addiction. But maybe I’ll luck out and she’s too goddamned hungover to be up at 10 am on a Sunday.

So, this is it. This is my final post about my relationship with The Neighbor. This entire blog has been a chronicle of our affair and it’s painful and bittersweet to say goodbye to him. If we ever have sex again, I’ll post about it, but the inner workings, my thoughts and feelings about him and us, they are now private.

My plan is to go off of cock for 2 months and recalibrate. We’ll see if I can do it. I want it all. I want a kind, loving, funny, smart, man who’s a master in bed and has a loaded weapon between his legs. I will be patient. I will be diligent. I will be true to myself and open about everything.

I think I may have to change my About page now.