Tag: relationship

Alone

I feel a little pathetic, but I want to go home. I don’t even know where that is now. Less than a year ago I would’ve said there’s nowhere outside of Marseille I belong. I loved it, my town was part of me and there was nowhere better. Not too long ago I went back to France to visit my sister, she was taking her daughter to the Musée du Louvre. I felt terrible from the moment I stepped off the plane. I love my sister and my niece, hell, I put my entire inheritance in my niece’s name the moment I found out the only thing my sister received was the house she was already living in with her husband and daughter. Of course, that was back when I wasn’t burning through all my savings on travel costs, home medical and fitness equipment, and replacing the majority of my wardrobe… but honestly, I’d have done it anyway. I just don’t love it here anymore. Even in Waldenbuch, I feel like I need to get away.

My proper address is in Japan now. Iji insists his house is our house and his bed is our bed. I love him, I love being with him, I’ve enjoyed his city… but I don’t fit with the culture. There’s a lot of nuance I’m still learning. Sometimes it makes me feel all the more isolated. I get teased for my accent all the time. It takes a long time for me to read basically anything, and I read things incorrectly on a regular basis. I feel great in the house, even at the office, but when I’m out in town it sometimes feels a little like I’m drowning.

It should feel like home right? I live there, my husband is there… and I do love him. I wasn’t supposed to, I tried not to, but I do. It makes me afraid. What if I’m misreading my own feelings. Maybe I just love the chance to be far away. Maybe I love that he loves me. I knew he did right from the start. He has for a long time. It started as a crush when he was a teenager. He was the only person I stayed in contact with for a very long time after Eli died. He was being raised to take over the sake shop. He came to visit me during one of my stays at home in France when he was 15, just nearly 16, I was living back at my dad’s place at the time. I say he came to visit me, but he was the adventurous one between him in his uncle (the guy that adopted him, don’t question it, it made sense to them) he wanted to experience the kinds of flavors other cultures like in their drinks. So he was going to stay at my dad’s place for a week with me to tour him around as his translator. Remember he’s 11 years younger than me, when he was 15 I was 26.

I was a bit dense, there were a few things I had never even considered. He had told his sister already, but I had no idea he’d had a crush on me. So 4th day he was in town I was up late with a movie and a few glasses of wine. He came out, said he couldn’t sleep and sat down to watch with me. I let him have maybe 60 ml of my wine, the legal age was still 16 at the time and his uncle had said it was fine. He had a bit once in a while at home. I should have paid more attention, I should have noticed my bottle emptied faster than it should have. I should have noticed all of it long before he worked up the nerve to try and kiss me. But I didn’t. I did shut him down immediately though. Of course my older brother had to be down when it happened, Theo had a good time with that for months. I didn’t even look at Iji again for a few years, barely spoke to him. I wasn’t mad at him, he was a kid and kid’s do dumb things. I just wondered what the hell I did that made it seem like a good idea, I felt awkward and irresponsible and didn’t want to cause any more bad decisions on his part… here I am married to him 7 years later. Sometimes I’m afraid he was the easy option, he wanted me and I didn’t need to do anything to make it happen.

I know it sounds stupid. There’s just so much I feel like I don’t know about myself now. My own hands are strangers to me, that isn’t me being dramatic. I’ve been baking for a long time, most of my life. So much that even with the disposable income I used to have there was near nothing I’d buy at the baker unless I was short on time. I stopped measuring years ago, you just start to know the feel. A few weeks ago I was making some bread for lunch sandwiches I didn’t have a clue how much flour I’d put in. Couldn’t even estimate, even when I lifted the bowl to feel it, I had no clue. It was like I’d just forgotten all that experience. If I can forget something I’ve done more thousands of times than I can count, isn’t it is possible I could also be entirely wrong about what I feel?

So here I am, feeling more isolated than I’ve ever felt before, and I may actually be afraid of the moment the doctors tell me I can go back.

Last Summer

So let’s fast forward to to when I’m 27. My mother had been diagnosed with Huntington’s a few years prior, she was hospitalized not long later and progressed rapidly. My mom had always been so accepting. I went to the hospital as often as I could to visit, read with her… I just wanted to spend time with her. She was the person in my family I trusted the most. I finally told her who Eli actually was to me. She killed herself a few days later. Last year, a few months before I turned 33. I get a call from my sister, my dad had a heart attack. I was upset, he’s my dad after all, but mostly fine. He died within a few days, and I lost it. I had only just started realizing how much I resented him, and I wasn’t sad that he died, I mad. I was so mad that I’d never get to ask him why he needed to force Theo and I to compete. I’d never get to ask him why he had the opinions on masculinity he did. I’d never get to ask him if we ever actually mattered to him. I’d never get to ask if he hesitated at all before letting me leave for almost a decade. I’d never get to ask if he would really reject his own son for being gay.

I spiraled again, turns out he didn’t do any good teaching me to handle emotions. I got so drunk a friend from Germany decided to come visit. She went pretty easy on me at first. But I needed to fight something, she wasn’t in fighting shape anymore, and I wasn’t in the tournament circle. Some bars do host not so legal fights if you know where to go though. I only had suspicions about one place, but I was right. She was so mad when I got home covered in bruises. She hid my keys and my wallet and wouldn’t leave me alone. Remember when I mentioned a couple of guys travelling around my drunken European sex trip with me? One of them, this guy Raphael was in the group. He was a prostitute before, but a very specialized kind. He used to be a paid dom. I was never really into that before, nothing against anyone who is, it just wasn’t my thing. God damn he was good at what he did though. He could make you forget your own name if you wanted, and I needed that. He had called me back a few times over the years, he liked to call me his favorite. He was a theatre tech by the time a met him, but he didn’t boot his old clients, he just didn’t charge. I was never client, he was always the one that called me. I decided it was my turn this time.

He came right away, and sure enough I was too distracted by everything he made me feel to care about drinking more. It also had the bonus effect of getting Bubbles to leave me alone, as long as I wasn’t drowning myself in wine and vodka she wasn’t so concerned. I didn’t need to be drunk I needed to feel good and he made me feel great. He even got me talking, about when I was a kid, about my dad, about everything. I really opened up to him. He even talked me into visiting a therapist to work through all the issues my dad left me with. When he asked if his previous profession would make me to uncomfortable to go on a proper date with him, I didn’t hesitate. Our first official date he wanted me to put on my best suit and take me to Les Trois Forts. Put on my best suit, my best wasn’t good enough. I hadn’t been on a real date since Eli died, it had always felt so wrong. It was so exciting to feel confident about going on a date, I went all out.
€3800 suit, silk-lined vest, silk tie and pocket square… Yeah our friend Spikey decided to start calling me Mr. Francy Pants. I was not pleased that that one stuck. But I wanted this date to be perfect, I needed a win. That not so legal fight I drunkenly decided to find, turns out my boss’ brother likes to watch fights. Turns out my boss’ brother was meeting him at the gym for lunch and recognized me. I didn’t lose my job, but I was put on a 6 month suspension pending review.

The date was wonderful, and my plan to tease him with how absolutely devilish I looked in that suit worked perfectly. That was the first night we had ever actually had sex. He always used toys, but the nature of relationship changed when we made it official. We kept the relationship going for another few weeks and it was fantastic. He was doing me a lot of good. Now, there’s one important compatibility problem in our relationship. Raph was strictly a top, I’m not strictly a bottom. I was clear with him right from the start that I wouldn’t commit to being a permanent bottom. The deal he proposed was that, as long as he was involved, whenever I wanted to top we could go find someone to play with. To me, this was just more proof that this was good. He was willing to work with me to ensure we both got what we wanted. That’s what I thought anyway. With the suspension I canceled my appointments with the therapist at least until I was bringing in full checks again. My savings had to keep me floating until those 6 months were over. Turns out, our play night was a ‘treat’ the last one I was going to get until I rescheduled all my canceled appointments.

I liked him a lot, but I wasn’t taking an ultimatum regarding my finances while I was only receiving a quarter of my salary. I asked him to reconsider, and was very clear with him that I wouldn’t accept ultimatums in a relationship. I gave him plenty of time to think on it, and the next time I invited him on a date he asked if I had rescheduled yet. That was it, I was going to end it. I asked if we could meet but he was working a play so he said he’s stop by my place after. I should have insisted on meeting out.