Heal Me

J Kahele

You would think after all I went through in my awful marriage, then divorce, that I would have learned my lesson, that I would have been more careful about protecting myself....I wasn't so here I am again, writing again about the horrors of the heart. So far I have won two writing awards for this short story about my love affair with an amazing man. Regardless, how it ended I will never regret being with him. Enjoy! 

It was well into a year of knowing each other, that my conversations on messenger with a casual friend of mine, began to become more frequent and more personal. The connection we had was unreal. Even with never meeting each other, I felt I knew this man my whole life and could tell him anything without judgment. I fell head over heals for this man quickly. Anytime, my messenger buzzed, and I saw his name, a smile would instantly spread across my face. We took it slow only using Facebook as our primary contact, before calling on the phone. Eventually, we decided to take it further and meet in person. I offered to come to him, so we set up a day and time and I drove out.

The three-hour drive to his residence I remember being excited and afraid at the same time. What if he didn’t find me attractive, what if I drove all this way to be sent away broken hearted. I admit I had not one ounce of self-esteem, after my husband left me broke and for another woman. And he knew it and tried his best to lift me up. I told this man things, I never told others, because I trusted him with my whole heart and wanted him to know everything about me.

When I reached his street, my heart was beating so fast, I feared I would die on the spot. I drove up in the driveway and called him on the phone, to tell him I arrived to find out my dumb ass was in the wrong driveway. I looked up at the address and realized he was on spot. OH MY GOD! I could feel the heat on my face, I was so embarrassed by my idiotic mistake. Some first impression, he must have thought I was some ditzy airhead, that couldn’t even follow a digital map. While I was berating myself in my head, he was still mumbling and I caught the last part, “look to the left.” I followed his instructions. Between the darkness and my damn contacts that never cooperate when needed, the silhouette was unclear.

I drove over to his driveway. My nerves were on edge as I slid my car into park. I had to keep coaching myself to calm down, as I felt like at any second, I would hurl all over the place. I needed to stop this silliness, I was a grown woman. What was the worst that could happen? He said I was too ugly, too fat and sent me away? Oh God I hope that didn’t happen, I could never show my face online again!

I took a deep breath, opened my door and proceeded up the sidewalk. I was shaking so bad, I felt my knees would buckle if I moved another step. But they didn’t, instead I slipped on the heel of my boot as I stepped forward. I looked down at the four-inch heels of my boots and cursed at myself for choosing cuteness over safety. What the hell was I thinking!

The main door was slightly cracked open, but the closed screen door prevented me from entering. I expected to see him standing there, but when I looked in all I saw was a shallow light. Now what? I took a breath in and slowly released it and tapped gently on the door.

A tall man with damp, dark long hair, wearing basketball shorts, and no shirt appeared at the door. My heart stopped when he pushed his hair back and I saw his eyes. I would know those eyes anywhere. I stared at them for hours at a time, as I learned of his life, through photos on his page. He opened the door and I stepped in. His arms enfolded around me as he took me in for our very first hug. Tears brimmed in my eyes as he held me in his arms for the first time and it was beyond what I ever imagined it would be like. I felt safe. I felt loved. I felt home.

He guided me to his bedroom, where we could have time alone. His bedroom was chaotic to say the least. Clothes were in places clothes should not have ever been. But I didn’t care. I would have met him outside, drenched in a rainstorm, to feel the way I felt with him. I was still nervous, but now it was because I had never been in a man’s room before! He grabbed my hands almost sensing my anxiety  and I calmed instantly. I had so much love for him. I really did and being there with him in person, made it more real to me.

I was not sold on the idea of staying the night whatsoever. One, because I really didn’t know what to do. I hadn’t engaged in any intimacy since my marriage. I had been naked with men, I wouldn’t say I was a prude. Just every time it got down to doing the dirty, the men always released before even getting it in. He knew this. He also knew I had never had an orgasm before and he didn’t find that strange like most people, he made it sound like to him it was endearing.

The first kiss to me was amazing and I swear it was the best kiss ever, for me but wasn’t sure if it was for him.  So, I asked him and he reassured me it was fine. Another thing I loved about him, I could ask the silliest questions and he always answered them, like they were important to him. He always made me feel important. We talked. We shared soft kisses. I felt as if we had been together forever. Talking with him was so easy.

My eyes were getting weary, the long day was beginning to tire me out. I was not sold on spending the night. I thought it as improper for me to do that. I told him how I felt, and he said he wasn’t comfortable with me driving three hours back. I packed a bag, not with the intention of staying with him, but with the intention of getting a hotel if I was too tired first. But he wanted me to stay, he wanted to spend more time with me. It didn’t take much for me to cave in, because I wanted to spend every second I could with him, also.

He retrieved my suitcase from my car and gave me time to change into my pajamas, a t-shirt and flannel pink bottoms. He came back into the bedroom and we snuggled under the covers. Five minutes, and sweat was pouring down my neck, it felt like I was in sauna, the heat turned up to the maximum degree. I decided to remove my pajama bottoms, hoping the thick bottoms were one of the problems to the inferno that brewed beneath the covers. It was. His arms comforted me like a lullaby, and I drifted off to sleep.

I woke with a start. Staring blindly in the dark, realizing it was night. It took me a few minutes, to realize where I was at and a few seconds to realize he was not beside me. I panicked. He left me. Before it was out of control, the door opened and he walked in, nonchalantly sliding under the covers. I faced him with the intention of asking him where he went, but those damn eyes, melted me into a pool of mush. I felt as if I was suffocating, the need to kiss him was unbearable. I decided to end my misery, pressing my lips against his.

This time our kisses were not soft like earlier, they were hard, fast and passionate. He slid on top of me. I felt his hands on my skin, slowly moving up and down my arms. Goosebumps instantly encompassed my arms, his touch sending  tingling sensation throughout my body. My mind was saying this was wrong not on the first night,but my body crumbled helplessly under his touch, a deep need growing deeper by the second. He rained kisses down my neck, and I closed my eyes, embracing the touch of his lips.  A fire released as his lips met mine, igniting every nerve within me. I clutched his back tightly, needing to feel his body close to mine. He feathers soft kisses across my bare shoulder. I was so aroused I felt as if I was going to completely combust. Every kiss, every touch brought me closer to the edge. He left my lips and I frowned. He slid down my body and removed my panties. Feared circled me as I saw what he had to offer and knew this was going to hurt. But I wanted this, I love him so much and I wanted our bonded to him in every way possible.

I choked on a breath as he entered me, the pain felt like stinging bees and rubber bands snapping all at once. He could feel my bodies resistance and he was careful to go slow. As fast as it started it stopped. I am not sure what happened, I figured it was the same as always when I was with men. He pulled me into his arms, gave me a gentle kiss and we fell off to sleep.

I woke to his hand sliding down my back. I look up and he smiles at me. We made love and this time I knew I had pleased him. I was happy and afraid at the same time, because I was in a shitload of trouble, for the first time in my life, I actually needed someone.

For two months, we traveled back and forth to see each other. He was my world. He treated with such a high respect and was there for me whenever I needed.

I found it was too good to be true, and that old saying nothing last forever, became a truth, February 18. It was the day of my daughter’s surgery and I was a complete train wreck of worry. My ex-husband and I despised each other so much that we had to split time in events like this and it was his time to be with her. I reached out to him for comfort, surprised he didn’t expect it, knowing how I was. He blew it off. We argued fiercely that night while I was taking care of her and he ended things.

I went into a deep depression. The next day refusing to leave my bed, accept when I had to give my daughter her medication.

Why was this happening? How did it go from love to disaster? I blamed myself. A few sweet, “I love you’s,” and I was hooked. I had absolutely no control of my heart or who it chose. It was such a sucker, for a sweet voice and kind words. But mostly it was the promises of forever that it held onto just to be shattered into a million pieces. How did I feel? Numb.
The second day, my mind was spinning in circles, I barely slept a wink the night before, as I thought of the lost of him. I woke up every hour, throwing up. I had never felt pain like this before; it was excruciating. It felt like someone had reached into my chest and ripped my heart out. The pain was not only mental but physical, defeating my body and wrecking my head. I was a mess, a complete disaster; and the tears, God, the tears, flooding down my face faster than I could blink them away, as the reality had finally settled in. He was gone and never coming back and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do but endure it.
I tried to reach out to him, looking for his love and reassurance.

But that didn’t happen. All we did was step over every single fucking boundary you could possible think of with our words, to make it worst.

When you step over a boundary you can never back up and replay. Once the words were out neither one of his could take them back. I was angrier because we had both agreed that texting was the worst form of communication. Words typed without a voice, was unemotional and could be easily misconstrued, making the simplest conversations turn into disaster. Plus, ending a relationship via text, was so degrading and humiliating, to know you weren’t worth the time, to call and be told by the same voice who said many times, I love you, it was over.

My heart was shattering, each word he typed crucifying the love we shared. He went from a soft, gentle spoken man, to a tyrant who talked to me like I was beneath him. I was dying inside, every hope I had of a life with this man was dissipating by the second.

For four days, I woke feeling so alone and empty inside. I was so heartbroken and still not understanding what happened, and how it got this bad. The only thing I was certain of was that he had no care or want for me anymore.

My girls were just as devasted watching me slip into a deep depression. I felt I needed to make it better for them, so I accepted a date for that Friday night. The date did get my mind off of what was going on, but I would be lying if I said, I didn’t feel guilt or regret being with another man. I was upfront with the man who took me out, so when he drove me home, he had enough respect not to push a kiss onto me. But he did offer to take me out the next night, if I wanted. I accepted. I felt it was better to go out then sit home and stew in my misery.

The texting never really stopped between me and my now ex-boyfriend. I was a woman of words and thoughts and sometimes I think I needed to accept, not everyone, wants to read my five-page synopsis or hear every single thought I had. He was always acceptive of how I was, so I thought nothing of it, but that was when we were loving, instead of hating on each other. Another lesson I learned. A man changes, when you hit that anger button, he does not care or wish to hear what you had to say, and it was better to back off and allow him to calm. Too bad my stubborn brain didn’t take my own advice. I pushed and pushed until finally he revealed the real reason, why he broke things off. He said I had mood swings and he felt I was addicted to drugs. What? I was so offended. That was the most degrading thing he could say to me. You see, he was a recovering alcoholic of two years plus. I would never risk his sobriety and felt proud of him in his quest to stay sober and help others. How could he think that way of me? What the fuck did he think love was? Love was sacrifice, loyalty and integrity. I would never fucking do something to intentionally hurt him or what he believed him. Now he pissed me off to the max! I could have accepted anything but that was the lowest degradation he could do to me and my dignity.

The texting went well into my date. I would slip away from the blackjack table to text him. I could not believe this man, the one I thought was my forever, thought this low of me.

It was a texting marathon, as we attacked each other with put down after put down. Then the demon man left and the man I loved appeared, as he agreed on what I said. He was worn down and hurting. It hurt me. I apologized to him and at one point, we found a calm place. Agreeing at this point we needed to just be friends and I was happy with that. He was working, so I went online to send him a smiley face, to let him know how happy I was.

His page was gone.

I checked the other social media links we were connected on and every single one of them was blocked. I broke down into tears, he had taken away something special between us. The place we met, the place we fell in love. He erased it. It meant nothing to him. He never loved me. He hated me and all the sweet words, gentle love and talk of forever was a lie. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.  I will admit my texting at times was psychotic, but so was his. I was still in my mind fighting for our love and thought he was being stubborn making up every fucking excuse in this world, to not be with me. Had I known that I meant this little to him, that he didn’t care at all, I would have never tried to reach out to him and try to save something that meant nothing to him.

I had to release myself from this connection with him and I knew what I had to do. I had to give myself to another man. My sex life with my husband was out of duty, I never got off or even felt it was necessary. This man I loved so deeply was the first man I gave my body to willingly, the first man I ever got off with and the first man I had ever made love to. He was the first man I truly loved with my heart and soul and the first man to truly break me to the point I couldn’t handle it anymore.

That night I went to this man’s home with the intention of having sex with him. He kissed me on the neck to start and it felt like acid and I felt like vomiting. He slid the zipper of my dress down and pushed the straps off my shoulders and as it pooled to the floor, tears welled up in my eyes. I felt so dirty. I burst into tears so fast. I felt trapped into loving a man who didn’t love me back. I wanted to die. I didn’t want to love this man, I wanted to be happy. Loving him was making me so miserable. I prayed and prayed for healing. I prayed for my heart to let go.

Right there wearing only a corset and garters I fell to my knees and cried like a baby. I was tired of feeling this way, I was tired of  hurting. I wanted peace. As I prayed, my tears dried up as a comforting warmth cocooned me. Although, I still felt him in my heart, it was bearable.  I was not sure if it was hours I knelt or minutes, all I knew was when I stood up, my date had wrapped a blanket around me and was fast asleep on the couch. I felt so bad for him, he was innocent. But I knew I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to wake him, so after slipping into my dress, calling Uber, I jotted a note for him to call me and left.

When I got home, I finished this story and sent it off to my publisher to look at to consider for a writing contest, she felt I would win easily.

I grabbed my puppies and slipped into my bed. For the first time in five days, I was calm. No matter what happened today or the next, one thing for sure was true. A man will not save you, a man will break his promises and a man will hurt you. But Jesus, will never leave you, never betray you, will always love you and will always save you.

 

 

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