When with someone you’re utterly comfortable with, I like to call it finding home.
Home.
Home is a place of permanent residence, a place you always find your way back to. Home is belonging. And feeling safe. It is comfort and warmth. The one place that’ll always welcome you in. Where you know you don’t have to hide who you are. Home has everything. Your most cherished possessions. Your trust. Your love.
Home is where you can relax after a long day. Where you can strip back and just be. Where you can be your most vulnerable. Home doesn’t judge. Home will always have its doors open, waiting for you to walk through. You’ll nourish your body, expand your mind, share your secrets within its walls. Home will never turn you away because you belong to it as much as it belongs to you.
Memories are made. Laughter is shared. Tears are shed. It can weather any downpour and remain standing on the stormiest of nights. Having that protection. Confidence. Home is familiarity. You know its every crook and its every cranny. Which floorboards creak the loudest. How to navigate its halls when the lights are off. It’s an instinct. You don’t need to try hard. You just find yourself gravitating towards its presence and before you know it, you’ve found your way home.
Homes can change. But that doesn’t matter. Because with time, you’ll once again feel that security. You’ll be able to put your trust in its foundations. You won’t feel any doubt. You’ll just know. Every fibre of your being will be at ease. You’ll want to work hard to keep it protected. A light bulb may go off now and again, but it wouldn’t take you anything to want to fix it. You’ll want to because it’s everything to you. The thing that keeps you alive. The very essence of your being.
Because home really is where the heart is.
* * *
I’ve never been rejected before so I’m not entirely sure how to feel or even deal with this. Especially since I tend to get the guys I want. I’m usually the one doing the rejecting.
It’s sort of a bitter sweet situation since rejection sucks but at the same time I’m sort of pleased that I’m able to see myself with someone who isn’t my ex. I’m not going to lie. I still feel a little bit wounded. Like it actually hurts. I just keep thinking back to that moment where I was sat in his bed watching my shitty TV shows while he was on his laptop doing his thing and we were just comfortable in each other’s presence to do our own thing. Or when he decided to lie down to watch my shitty TV shows with me. I just imagined that being every day for me. And it felt really good.
It almost did feel like home. Even though it was but for a few days, it was home in its own way.
* * *
Tank reckons I should stay single for a whole year. And maybe I will. And it wouldn’t even be because I chose to. It would be due to the fact that I’m incompatible with life and there’s actually no one for me. But I’ve accepted my reality.
I’ll move on with my homeless life now…
* * *
Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll ever see Cymric the same way again. Not because he gave me the best foreplay of my life but because…
Actually I shouldn’t be offended. Because I was using him as much as he was using me. But it’s not that. It’s just the rejection. I just want to hide under the earth. I shouldn’t have asked whether he thought we’d be together if distance wasn’t a barrier.
But let’s go back to the night that changed everything. That fateful sexual encounter. Journal, I can’t even tell you how amazing it was. That’s why I can never see him the same way. I’ll always look at him and think of the amazing sex we could potentially (definitely) have. When something is just too good, you really can’t come back from it. I half wish that I’d gone all the way with him. Just to have a taste of him deep inside me.
Journal! How can I be craving sex from someone who’s supposed to be my friend! How Journal, how?! I want him. So bad. I want him as a lover, romantically and sexually. It’s the first time I’ve had a sample of what it could be like to be in a relationship with someone where the friendship is there but also that fire. That passion! Jomi ticked the friendship box. Igor ticked the sexual chemistry box. Cymric ticked both. And that’s why the rejection hurts so much. I got a taste of what a proper relationship could actually be like. Something that has eluded me all these years and it’s driving me crazy that it’ll forever be out of my reach.
But wow! What that sex could have been! I’ve been thinking about it all day. Foreplay has never been something worth doing. But wow! I can’t fucking deal. Just all the, “fuck, you’re so wet”, “you make me so hard”, “you’re so tight”, “I want you inside me”, “I want you to have your way with me”. My good God my clit is throbbing right now. The intensity was too much. And all the while, I was on high alert because I knew we couldn’t have sex. If I had let go completely, I may have melted away.
I need that fire in my life. God knows I deserve it. Please God, pleeeeeease!