8. Mika #4
“I mean, there were other things I realized were part of the problem. You know, like keeping things from you. And that was tricky too because I realized that yeah, I did that because you could be a judgmental dick about things you didn’t approve of, but like, why didn’t I stand up and push back?
Why didn’t I say, ‘Hey, this might make you uncomfortable, but this is something I really enjoy doing,’ and see if there wasn’t a way for us to come to some sort of middle ground.
And I realized I did all those things because as much as I’ve got a bad temper and I can push back…
I have a hard time doing that with people I really care about.
And…shame. I felt shame and guilt for doing those things, and for not talking to you about them, and for keeping them from you, and for—”
He trailed off, and I kept my peace, letting him work through it, even though I sorely wished I could see his face.
Then again, he was probably keeping his face hidden because he didn’t want me to see all the emotions and feelings flashing over his features and betraying what was going on in his head.
I wanted to be upset that he wasn’t being open, but…
well, we both had a history of misreading what was going on in the other person’s head.
Maybe it was better if I let him tell me without trying to translate what he was thinking.
“So I had to work on that, pushing myself to open up, to say what I was feeling and thinking. Which is…well, an ongoing process,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “But the sex thing? That was…well, therapy and bullying myself.”
“B…bullying yourself?” I asked incredulously. “How did you bully yourself into moving past your sexual issues?”
“Well, I discovered that I still had a weird thing about toys and realized I had a first, easy step that could be handled without the judgement of others,” he said, fingers lying on my bare stomach and stroking back and forth.
“Or at least, without me feeling like I was being judged by other people, I guess is the better way of putting it. Believe it or not, that was one of the hardest steps.”
“Because it was the first?”
“Because it was the first,” he agreed. “But also because I had to do it all on my own. There was no one there to help me, to push me, to support me. And trust me, my body did not want to cooperate either. It fought me tooth and nail, if I’m honest.”
“Like…painful?” I wondered.
“A bit, yeah,” he admitted. “Mostly uncomfortable. Sometimes it made me feel like a lost cause, but it also felt good, even when it wasn’t working out great.
So I kept trying and after a while…it got easier.
So I upgraded to newer toys to see how it felt.
Then I tried bigger toys once I was having a good time to see if that would work, and while it brought back some of the old problems, it was a lot easier. ”
“And then came time to stop all the test drives,” I said, guessing where this was going and…I didn’t know how I felt about it.
“Yeah,” he said, his fingers sliding along my waistline. “I had to go out and give it a shot. And quickly realized that trying it with someone I didn’t know? Not a great idea.”
“Got a boyfriend then?” I asked, not jealous so much as just…I didn’t know what to name that feeling other than uncomfortable.
“A friend with benefits, someone I could test out that whole ‘expressing the truth’ thing on as well. He was…great. We got along really well, and he was great at making me feel comfortable doing all that with another person present. Honestly, I don’t know if I could have done it without him.”
“Why…did it stay friends with benefits?” I asked him carefully.
“Our lives…didn’t mesh. And you know, he always said he didn’t have space in his life for a boyfriend, but,” he said, sounding thoughtful, “I think Kam couldn’t commit to a relationship because his heart was tied to another person.
There was a guy from his past that he…never talked about, but sometimes couldn’t help himself.
I understood, though, but I think in a lot of ways, it’s what made it easier to trust him.
I don’t know; I never thought about it much, not about why it didn’t become more, anyway. ”
“So that fixed it?” I asked, wondering about the man and whether he had found his way back to his lost love or had wandered into something else.
“No,” he said with a laugh. “Not at all.”
“But—”
“I had to do it with more than one person,” he said quickly.
“Which is kind of weird to say out loud to you, but there it is: honesty. I had to try it with other people and make sure everything I taught myself and learned was going to stick. I didn’t want to be that person I was with you, and I needed to be sure. ”
“Had yourself a bit of sluttiness, huh?” I asked, amused by the idea. I had never been one for jealousy, and it wasn’t jealousy I was feeling, but again, I couldn’t name the emotion bubbling in my gut.
He turned, peering up at me with a searching gaze. “Does that bother you?”
“No,” I said, and frowned. “Not you being with other people, it’s—”
He looked at my face and I thought he was going to hesitate, to evaluate what he was seeing there as I had done for him before, but he surprised me by speaking up. “It’s because I couldn’t do that with you back then, isn’t it?”
I opened my mouth, but the weight and, more importantly, the truth of what he was saying slammed into place. I realized he had named the emotion that had been stirring uncomfortably inside me before I had done much more than brush up against it.
Because yes, he had done all that only after I had left.
It made me feel a little better that at least the hurt and discomfort he had brought to me and himself in our relationship was enough motivation for him to turn it around, but it had been too late for our relationship.
He had only done it after everything was said and done.
That realization brought with it anger that made me despise Kam and be irritated by the scores of men he’d been with because I had never—
I had never been enough for him.
We had never been enough.
I closed my eyes because…that had been true, maybe, back then.
When he had been provided with a second attempt, he had made a good go of it.
As much as I doubted him, as much as I worried that the silver lining was going to tarnish and fade, he was still here…
still trying. That had to count for something, right?
And I found…it did.
I took a deep breath and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “You’re here now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Forgiveness starts with I’m sorry, it continues with trying to make amends, and finishes by showing you’re taking steps not to do it again.
And…that’s what we’re doing, right? We’re trying to do steps two and three at the same time, and we can’t expect it to be easy,” I said, holding him tight so he could feel and hear my words and their intentions.
“You’re right,” he said, and although he was relaxed, I could see doubt in his eyes, as if what he’d said wasn’t enough.
Like he wasn’t enough.
“You’re tired, I’m tired, let’s be tired together and sleep,” I told him, nuzzling his hair. “Because, really, I don’t want to have sex right now. I’m fucking exhausted.”
“All that opening up, spilling my guts and boom, you come down to that?” he asked with a laugh, the sound warming me as he kissed my chest. “You’re a dork.”
‘Your dork’ hung right there in the air, but I smiled and nodded. “Occasionally.”
“Shut up and go to sleep,” he muttered.
And I did, but only after I felt his breathing even out and the faint sound of his snoring could be heard.