A Sorta Fairytale Ending


The time has come for me to divulge. I have avoided, beaten around the bush and flat out denied the existence of my misery. Now I just don’t have the strength to hide from it anymore and so I embrace it. 

Once upon a time…I went on a journey into deeper discovery of my sexuality…which led me to a deeper understanding of my self in relationships….which led me to a deeper understanding of my self. At the end of this journey, as if perfectly planned out in the plot line of a Hollywood film, a man walked into my life that changed everything. Unlike a Hollywood film, there of course, was no happy ending which leads me to my present day agony. I expected a fairy tale ending because I sacrificed myself, learned from it, and then everything in the stars lined up so perfectly. But it was only a tease. It was all another lesson instead of a dream come true.

As I’ve mentioned in many previous blogs, I’ve had a not so slight crush (aka obsession) with my yoga instructor. After my six months of abstinence experiment ended, I immediately got back on the horse…and -bad pun alert- rode it. I couldn’t help it. I was too sexually frustrated from all the physical contact from my yoga instructor, and he was off limits.

A week after I got my feet whet with the whole sex thing again, I was feeling on top of my game, ready to get myself back out there and dating. And then…the stars lined up. In the most bizarre sequence of events, my yoga instructor and I had one mind-blowing, universe-splitting night together. I came home the next day shaking and literally high. I couldn’t eat, drink, think, or catch up on much needed sleep. My world was spinning out of control. It was a feeling I have never, ever experienced in all of my many sexual experiences. I’ve had good sex before. This was not good sex, this was something beyond that. And my world was turned upside down from it.

But he was still off-limits. This night was the exception. It wasn’t going to happen again and I had to somehow continue on afterwards. The good news: I discovered this fairy tale connection existed. The bad news: nothing else compared to it. How could I ever find pleasure in any other connection again.

Almost two months later and the answer is: I can’t. I’ve spent every day since the beginning of last month in absolute misery. I find no joy in anything else. Those words said to a doctor would elicit a prescription for an anti-depressant. But it’s different than that. I am still a functional human being. I do the same things as I did before. But now I know there is something more. Now I believe. For one night, I woke up and saw the world in color and now I realize the world is, and always has been black and white. I know there is color out there and so I spend every day looking for it, waiting for it.

He still is my yoga instructor, but I don’t see the color around him any longer. I am too shut down. I am terrified of him and the fact that I only saw the color with him that one night. I am scared he is the only path to see the color again and so I shut down to even the color around him.

I can’t even think about having sex with anyone else, or dating, or even flirting. No one else can compare and that thought terrifies me. I shut down to love and continue on without that part of me functioning. It is all I can do to survive right now.


If this was a fairy tale or a sappy Hollywood love story, we would bump into eachother in a book store and in an instant realize how much we needed eachother and then live happily ever after. But it’s not, it’s real life and real life sucks. There are no reasons in real life, it just happens and then it ends. If you’re lucky, you see color once in your life, almost like that elusive moment you spot a unicorn, and then the next moment it’s over. You go on living your boring life but never forget the moment when, just for a moment, you saw the world in color.

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