I struggle with a very little word: NO.
Its power, its simplicity, its implied worth of the owner all conspire to tangle me up, but last night I managed a very polite, No Thank You to The Neighbor.
This week has been an odd one for the two of us. After the weekend he disappeared Monday, but kept popping up throughout the week. He stopped by Tuesday night, popped out on the balcony twice Wednesday, and stopped by again Thursday. Each time I had my hand on the doorknob I chanted to myself, “Sorry, now isn’t a good time,” and each time I found my hand twisting the metal and swinging the door open wide.
On the balcony, I just felt violated. He knows I’m out there a lot; just leave me alone already.
I was tested — and failed — at every turn this week. He was home alone all week.
And as I struggled to keep my hands off my body yesterday I found connections to my other struggles and a way to regain some power. TN had been bursting into my space, so I was going to burst into his.
I buried myself in our nearly year-long text thread and dug up glorious cock pic after cock pic, found my favorite one of his giant erection glistening with pre-cum and sent it to him. We bantered and laughed. I told him why I was abstaining.
It’ll be good for me. I’m gonna do a week at a time. Never done this before. Want to test myself Also, I made a pact with a fiend of mine in the UK. He needs support to not wank 10x a day so he can finally cum in his wife :). I offered support.
His response was, “Awww I feel for him.”
I said, “I know you do. Made me think of you.”
Later, I asked him if he wanted to come over to play Scrabble some time after 9:30. He said he’d likely pass because he was tired, crabby, and needed to recharge. I told him if he changed his mind to just let me know.
I felt guilty for instigating contact on the one hand, blithely apathetic on the other. Fuck it. Fuck me. Fuck him.
The rest of the afternoon was spent with a girlfriend in my pool drinking cheap white wine. At 5, we got our kids from school and made plans to meet up for dinner at a local family joint. Peyton and I got there early and I stood close to the jungle gym while I waited for our table. Misters over the diners made the air thick and wet and children’s laughter and screaming mixed with the folk-singers on the makeshift stage. The cacophony of vibrant sounds and colors poured through me.
I breathed deeply and felt anchored. Happy. Nothing else mattered in that moment except me and Peyton.
My friend and her kid soon arrived under twinkling stars and beaming smiles. We laughed and talked and ate heartily for two hours before I began to sag with fatigue. I begged off around 9 and Peyton and I made bedtime negotiations in the car on the way home. As I wearily climbed the three flights of stairs with a little hand clenched in mine I noticed my bag of trash was gone. I asked Peyton if it’d been there when we’d left. “Yes,” was the reply.
And then this happened:
One of the things I’d noticed by revisiting our old text thread was that in the beginning of our tryst I was very unavailable. I was either too tired or busy, and somewhere along the line that changed. I’d given all my power of NO away. I didn’t want to pass up a single chance to see him and so exhausted, cranky, whatever, I would let him spend time with me whenever he wanted to. In the end, he was calling all the shots.
Last night, I finally did something I could be proud of. I said, NO. I listened to my body and my heart for a change, my body and heart, not Hy’s. Hyacinth would have bent over backwards to accommodate this man. She ignores the fact I’m run down and heart-weary, but I don’t. I’m going to look out for the both of us. And my reward was a long night’s rest, a minor power shift, and a little peace of mind.
The only drawback to this whole thing was falling asleep at 10 pm meant I woke up at 6 am horny as hell. Not a bad trade off, really.