It's very strange. I think my heart has been dead for a long time. Okay maybe it's not dead. Maybe it's in a coma, from all the shock. In the process of this coma I have built up this amazing stronghold around it. First it was just a little fence, then it turned into a brick wall, then I added a moat, put extra locks on the doors, I kept adding to the security every time some one managed to put another break in my heart. The problem is people don't break in, I let them in. Damn me for wanting to believe in people so much. I really do believe deep down that they are someone good, and then, they find the one thing that can hurt me the most and use it against me.
I think back clearly now and I realize that I was never truly "in love" with B. He was always a shithead, he never treated me well. Why in the hell did I put up with that? Oh wait, I know. Because I was still completely broken from breaking up with Jen. I was still traumatized from the rape. Being with him was easier than being alone, at least in the beginning.
These feelings are all stirred up in my head right now because I felt something I haven't felt in a really long time last night..... a connection.
It was more than that though, I was with a guy friend. and we sat talking for hours and hours. Which was so nice. We talked about anything and everything. We curled up to watch a movie. ("Invictus" slow moving but pretty creepy) He didn't act like the typical guy though, grinding his hardon into my back and grabbing my tits within 5 minutes. He just held my hand and ran his fingers on my lower arm. About an hour went by and he kissed lightly on my neck, and then my shoulder. Which he continued to do (I of course paused the movie at some point).
Even when we moved into the bedroom to be more comfortable he continued to kiss on my neck and shoulders and my ears. When our lips actually met each others I thought we were going to actually devour each other, it was so incredibly passionate. The kind of kisses that take your breath away.
So here is me at the same time thinking, big fucking deal! so what! there is some passion, he is still just like every other guy, he just wants to fuck me. Surprisingly enough that wasn't the case. We never did have sex, which was really nice. I ended up passed out on his chest. I woke up and tried to move and in his sleep he pushed me head back down on his chest, several times (guess I didn't get to move, lol).
It wasn't mushy in the morning. I got up, he got up, we went about our business, talked about seeing each other again this week. I'm not getting my hopes up in the slightest. I know better than that.
I know that my heart hasn't come out of its coma, but it was nice to feel some passion for the first time in 5 years or so. I've missed it. I missed having someone hold me, and actually really want to hold me, without ulterior motives. I felt safe.
