A letter to the boy who was in my bed,
Hey there. How are you doing? I hope you are slaying those fursuits. Sew, sew, sew, and sew some more.
So. You hard-core friend-zoned me. Like not even like let’s be really good friends, but like acquaintance friends. I can’t do that. I’m sorry. No. I’m not sorry. I can’t be as close as I sort of was, and then hop back like that. We kind of crossed the line into FWBs territory. How do you go back from that?
Look, I know you have a lot going on in your life. You have lived a shit ton of lifetimes in just 34 years. I love that about you, but it also makes me sad. You have like conquered the world as far as I’m concerned, and then you crashed and burned. You are so incredibly smart, talented, kind, generous, and funny. You are even good-looking (shocker!) You have been all over the place and done so many things, you have so many interests, so many different hobbies, you can do just about everything, and you work your ass off. It’s impressive, and I fell in love with that. I felt like you kind of have the world at your finger tips, and just by knowing you, so did I. It’s intoxicating. You are my favorite type of person.
Which is probably why I’ve held on longer than I should have. That, and you were kind of like a challenge for me
Because
I have never met someone who didn’t let me in. I develop emotional connections with people really easily, but you shut me the fuck out. Over and over and over again. No matter how much I tried. I also felt like by doing that you weren’t really that interested in my life. Because when you shut me out, you really didn’t get to see the real me. You got to see some parts of me, but you didn’t know my story. There’s so much more to me than what you saw, and I’m sorry that you didn’t get to know me fully. I’m so worth knowing, skunk boy. I’m really sorry that I didn’t get to know you more than what you let me see because, for all the reasons above and I’m sure so much more, you are an awesome person. So worth knowing. No matter how fucked up you think you are.
Also, stop shaming yourself. For real, yo.
The way I did feel that you let me in? That thing that you’re into. That was so attractive because that’s trust, vulnerability, closeness, and really getting to know some of the most intimate parts of a person. Like I haven’t been able to understand why you let me in that way because, to me, that’s insanely close. That closeness scared the shit out of me because there wasn’t a guarantee that outside of that it would be the same. I don’t compartmentalize well.
This also required touch.
Here’s something: I’ve been terrified of touching you. I haven’t really been able to give myself permission to do that even though you did. Touch scares me because I’m so responsive to it, and I’ve internalized the message that it’s so wrong to be that responsive to it.
Two words: purity culture. I’ve talked about it in another post, where you were also featured, btw. It kind of explains what has been going on. You have no idea how much I wanted to hold you, snuggle, cuddle like we talked about. How maternal I can be if I could have just gotten over that fucking purity culture mindset. Since I can remember (I’m 30 years old so at least 25 years), touching someone like that has been off limits. I come from the Christian side-hug, no hand holding, no kissing, and certainly no snuggling because that led to things that would eventually lead to sex culture (cult being the key word there). Which was bad unless you were married. It has been so, so, so hard to get over that, and I really thought I was. I could sure talk like I was beyond that, but when it came to execution? I know you felt how guarded I was in person vs what I would say over text.
I didn’t know how to handle you. I didn’t know how to handle myself around you: with that permission to touch you. I didn’t know how to do anything. Until you stayed over. When you took my hand that night? Holy shit. You like unleashed a dragon.
That was the first time I had let someone sleep with me. In the literal sense. That was also the first time that I had gotten...close to someone else.
My coworkers laugh at me because I have made all of these declarations of what I will and will not do. I was extremely surprised to find out that I LOVED sleeping next to someone like that. It was incredible, and so simple. But also unbelievably meaningful to me.
You also empowered me, and I was hoping you would get to experience it (side note: because of you sleeping over, and that dragon being unleashed? I had sex with someone for the first time a couple of weeks later).
But then all hell broke loose for you:
Oh my fucking god. What in the actual fuck?! I have never felt like the Universe was like so against someone. I was, and still am, heartbroken for you, and can’t comprehend how you are feeling. I was reaching out because I do know loss though. Not to overwhelm or smother you. I think you kind of have an avoidant thing going on. But through that it seems like you have learned that you need to take care of yourself and deal with shit you’ve been avoiding. That you need to cherish people because they aren’t here for very long, and can go in a moment. That’s fucking scary, skunk boy. So scary. So I understand that aspect of it. I really do.
I’m so sorry for all of that, and I really wish I could be there for you.
I’m not sure how you’ll take this or what’s going to happen. All I know is that I will never forget you, and will be forever grateful for what you did (Mother. Fucking. Dragon. You have no idea what you helped let loose. I’m so serious). I really, really, really wish that you would have been one of the people to experience that. Because let me tell you, it’s awesome. All of the things we talked about? I would have finally been able to do that! And that makes me so fucking like sad and heartbroken. I’m hurting. I really am, and I thought I should be honest about that and how I felt and how I can’t just go to super casual friends. Because this isn’t going to fit in a text, and you needed to know. I felt like I at least owed it to myself to write this. Like it’s my closure.
So. Skunk Boy.
Go figure your shit out. Fly. Slay the world with everything that you do. You have so much to offer, and so much to live for.
I’m going to slay the world with one blog post, one song, one laugh, one meal, one silly Deandra moment, one snuggle or cuddle, one impulsive trip, one makeout session, and one orgasm (multiple, actually) at a time.
Thank you,
Deandra
P.S. I still have that gahtdamb disgusting diet Red Bull in my fridge.
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