I didn’t particularly want to continue the story with my last ex (A), but it turns out I’m not done processing it all yet. Last night I woke from a deep sleep because I was having sex with A. Or at least I thought I was. It all seemed so real. A horrible jolting dream that wouldn’t leave my head all day. Either I need to start having sex asap or I need to realize I might still be hung up by him. What a dreadful thought.
In the past I’ve made a decision to ground myself from sex because of one reason or the other, as you may have read about in the past. I have called them my abstinence marathons. I discovered they were very appropriately named because I did get better and better at the amount of time I spent in between having sex. All of my marathon training was making me stronger in resisting the temptation of sex when I clearly did not need it.
So I naively assumed my training had made me a marathon champion. After A and I broke up, I didn’t jump back online, I didn’t frantically scour the bars for a guy to cleanse my “palette” and I even turned my back on the chance to go on a few dates. I was a champion. I didn’t need to date, I was well trained for this.
And I’ve been doing great focusing on all the other aspects of my life. I’ve had tons of time to pour into other activities, work and friends. He has been a distant memory in my head despite the fact it’s only been a little over a month. You’d barely even know I was at one time heartbroken, buried deep down below all that champion exterior.
Every once in awhile I will get up extra early for yoga. Half asleep I will make the trek in the cool morning’s light peering up from the horizon. It is possible in this state I am vulnerable to my deeply repressed feelings about A because I am too tired to fight them off. Shamefully to my strong champion that I personify most of the time, I weep. And when I am done crying, I get angry. These feelings quickly pass as the morning’s sun starts to shine brightly. My champion wakes up and takes over. And I move forward.
But I can’t escape these feelings that linger. Like Freddy Krueger, as soon as I drift off to sleep, he comes for me. In my dream A and I are together again. He is writing love poems for me on a chalkboard. Then he looks at me and with one swift movement he has me in his arms and we are passionately kissing and then having sex so vividly I have to wake up because the unconscious starts to merge with the conscious. It is so real I expect to be with him as I wake up. But I am not, I am alone in my own bed and then I weep.
In the end I realize I am not a champion, my marathon training has done nothing for me. I am not moving on and having sex and dating because I am strong. I am not moving on because I not strong and I am still captured in his web. And it hurts and I don’t know how to break free.