I met Emotional Man via craigslist. Only this time, it was in the run-of-the-mill relationship section instead of the casual encounters 😛 . His picture was very attractive, and to be honest, I didn’t expect a reply from him because I felt he was a bit better looking than me.
But, he did reply. And then he texted. And then he called, and called pretty much every day until we met.
He did live a ways away, but he came up to take me out to lunch near my house for our first meeting. We had a good time, and I felt comfortable bringing him to my apartment to look at the homemade still I had made for making moonshine. I had secretly been planning on moving back home to Colorado, and needed rid of it, and he had expressed interest in it. So, we spent the afternoon distilling moonshine on the stovetop and he agreed to buy the still from me.
When I had met him, I didn’t expect anything to come of it. Why would I try and get into a serious relationship when I knew that in a few months’ time I’d be moving more than a thousand miles away? Surely, if anything, my recent experiences in the dating world were showing me that I wasn’t having much luck snagging anything but a steady FWB.
But as we sat on my bed, sipping moonshine and wine, and talking about life, a connection was made. I suddenly felt bad for leading him on. I didn’t think I was going to care about the person sitting across from me, and maybe it was just the wine….but I did care. I had to tell him about Colorado. So, I did. And surprisingly, he didn’t mind. He said that he wouldn’t even mind moving if we worked out in the months that came before the move happened.
He came over a few more times and soon enough we were officially bf/gf. He was even staying at my place and driving an hour each way to work every day. I had told my family he was moving home with me and he started moving things into my place and getting rid of things at his to prepare for the move.
I was quite happy with him. He was very good looking, treated me well, cooked for me, helped me around the house, and our sex life was great. He loved being on top, which happens to be my personal favorite, and he seemed to be keeping up with my drive just fine. He was vocal enough and said things to me during sex, which I do love. Silent lovers always puzzle me…and there is something about a man’s voice, moans of pleasure, or dirty talk that just take me to a whole other level.
His only real flaws were that he suffered from depression and anxiety, and refused to do anything about it. It got to the point that he had to have a drink or two at night to calm his mind enough to put him to sleep. I didn’t like the idea of spending so much money on alcohol, or the indicators of potential alcoholism that were evident, but most of all I was worried about the crippling effects of his anxiety and depression. It had caused him to miss work on more than one occasion, and I spent a lot of time comforting him over some irrational fears that he had. The latter part of this I didn’t mind. I’m a good comforter and listener and realize that being a man’s comfort is a vital part of any relationship…and I certainly needed a man to be my comfort from time to time as well. I feared that his issues would, however, affect his stability, and being the sole provider in a relationship wasn’t something I was willing to sign up for again.
We seemed to get through it, though, and went along our happy way.
But one day something changed. Family had flown into Orlando and I spent a few days with them at Disney while Emotional Man watched my pets for me. He was upset he couldn’t come, of course, but this had been planned months ahead of time, and before we had met.
When I returned, he greeted me with an angry look and a warm hug, and a remark about how much he had missed me. He went on to tell me that his ex had moved to North Carolina that weekend, and had been by to see him while I was gone. This I knew ahead of time because he had told me about it, and I didn’t worry about it too much because apparently since they had broken up, she decided to go lesbian or bisexual and had been seeing a girl. What he failed to tell me was that he had gone out drinking in town all night while I was gone, and that she had broken up with the girl.
I wasn’t happy about it but chose to leave it be for the time being.
But after a few days, I noticed his behavior was changing. He was in a grumpier mood, was texting more than usual, and something was just off. We were going to bed one night when he freaked out over the laundry and left me feeling very upset and sleeping on the floor in the other room. I had decided to find out what was going on. Once he was asleep, I took his phone and saw for myself what the reality was. And sure enough, the ex had been texting with him inappropriately, and even sending him explicit pictures. They were talking about me and every word of it made my stomach churn and my heart race and my blood boil hot with anger.
I sat on the floor in the dark, pondering what to do. My mind went back to The Italian. I had once caught him with racy pictures of an ex and an ad on the casual encounters page of craigslist. He swore there was nothing to them, but later in the relationship, I’d walked in on him cheating on me. I remembered thinking in the aftermath of that relationship, that I should have walked away after finding those things on his phone and the computer.
And so, in the middle of the night, I started stuffing his things into trashbags and throwing them on the bed. He groggily woke up.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“We’re done. That’s it. I want you out.”
“What are you talking about? Why?”
“You can’t think of a reason?”
“You read my texts, didn’t you?”
He angrily got out of bed and started moving his things. He took load after load down to his car, and didn’t say a word to me. I asked for my keys back and once he grabbed his last bag, I said,
“Don’t you have anything to say?”
“I don’t understand why you’re throwing me out. I didn’t do anything.”
“You cheated on me!”
“No I didn’t!”
“How do I know if that’s true? Those text messages were cheating enough for me.”
“You didn’t even ask me about them.”
“I don’t have to. I read enough.”
And with that, he left. I spent the next hour, wide-eyed with adrenaline, typing him a strongly worded email chewing him out for ever treating me like that. I’d never thrown anyone out before, and aside from being totally upset and wondering how I would tell everyone that, once again, I had another relationship crash and burn and that Emotional Man wasn’t moving back with me after all.
I was pretty crushed after Emotional Man. He’d taught me I could love again and I had a strong connection with him. I wondered what he would do. He’d already bumped himself down to part time at his job to offset the cost of gas he’d been spending since moving in with me, and although he still had his place, he’d been slowly getting rid of all his things in order to move completely out.
I found out within a few days that he intended to get back together with his ex. And, he decided to make it official over Facebook ON MY BIRTHDAY.
That night I had been drinking with friends, and upon seeing the status update, called and left him a nasty voicemail. The next day I was so sick to my stomach that I called out of work. We’d been texting angrily that morning and I couldn’t even relax all day. I finally had some reprieve when a friend asked me to have dinner with her and her man. But then, he started texting me again. He was drinking and he was horny for me. He missed me and he was sorry.
I didn’t believe any of it, of course, although the part of me that wanted him to come crawling back was overjoyed to see it. Then, I resolved to do something quite out of character.
I wanted revenge.
I wanted revenge on the girl who thought it was ok to sext and send racy pictures to my man.
So I drove down to Emotional Man’s house. He let me in and was soft to me, though I made sure to be as bitchy as I’ve ever been in my life to him. And, we had sex. On the couch. Standing up. On the bathroom counter. And, on the bed. And this wasn’t like any kind of sex I’ve ever had before. It was revenge sex, yes, but it was very angry sex as well. I encouraged him to be rough with me, and we both said angry things to one another during the act. I quite enjoyed it.
He soberly awoke in the middle of the night, saw me lying next to him, and got up, beating the walls. He knew what he had done and felt that he was screwing up his only rescue from his current situation…his ex. She would know I was there. She probably already did. He yelled at me a little bit, and when he finally calmed down, he shut the light off and climbed into bed, and fucked me again. This time even more angrily.
“You weren’t supposed to come here,” he’d say, “you fucked everything up.”
The next morning, she called while I was still laying next to him. He said he’d have to call her back. She found out, of course, that I had been there and that we had fucked. And for some reason…she didn’t break up with him. She let it go. She even sent me a few passive aggressive remarks via text and I promised I would “take care of him for her” until he made it up to North Carolina to her.
The affair continued for weeks. I enjoyed the rough and angry sex. He’d be on the phone with her with his hand in my bra while I laid on his couch. Once I even gave him head while she was on the phone.
And I didn’t feel bad for any of it.
She suspected, of course, that I might be by, and her way of controlling the situation was by calling him ad nauseam every day. It was to the point of obsession. She seemed more and more pathetic to me every day. They deserved each other.
One day I think she finally had enough of the stress and pulled money together to get him up there. As she drove overnight to FL to meet with him and pick up things, I was there with him. And not a few hours before she arrived, we’d had our last round of sex. Only this last time, it was sad sex. He knew it was going to be the last time, and it was finally weighing on him that he’d never see me again. He loved both of us, apparently, and couldn’t even complete the act before bursting into tears. He bid me a tearful goodbye and gave me a long hug before he watched my car drive away until he couldn’t see it anymore.
Throughout the months, he’s texted me. The two of them argue like crazy, and occasionally I got texts from her telling me to send him money because he was coming back to me in the middle of the night. Apparently, once he had, in fact, packed his car, but never made it very far. I’m too busy sleeping in the middle of the night to field text messages like that, anyways. He’d call and talk to me about how he wanted to come here, but couldn’t hurt her because she took him in, and stupid things like that. Once or twice I’d actually believed him and wanted to take him back if he’d change, but deep down I knew he wasn’t right for me. I let his texts go unanswered, and haven’t heard from him in some time now. Best for my heart to let it all go.
But I do enjoy thinking back about the way I treated him…and knowing that I don’t always have to be everyone’s doormat or pushover. I can be a bitch, too….and it was a lot of fun, getting revenge and having rough, angry sex when it was well deserved. I stood up for myself, and that’s something I’ve promised to myself that I’ll never forget how to do.