I took an ice cold shower tonight – my own form of self punishment. I haven’t taken one of those since I met him. But tonight, I royally fucked up. I was honest with him when I first started this blog. He was the one who suggested it, and I figured it could be something we could semi-share as he’s shared his thoughts on WordPress for years now. For all 8 of you who were following me previously, you’ll notice that “The Kill Chronicles” are no longer posted. I’ve removed the posts Two and One; after Two for the sake of my relationship, which is infinite times more important than gaining readers with my slutty past.
Tonight he asked me if I had posted more, hesitantly I nodded. I knew the words that would come out of my mouth would hurt him, anger him, something, but the events that followed are what have caused me to write this at 1am, sitting naked on the couch, cold wet hair stuck to my skin.
I told him. That I had decided to write about my previous kills. He was silent, he shut his eyes and I saw his pulse quicken through his carotid. I wanted him to say something, anything. After a much too-long silence, I asked “do you want to talk?” I got a harsh and quick “no” that made my stomach knot even tighter. And that’s when my anxiety started to take over.
That’s it. You’ve fucked yourself with your past. It’s over. He’s done. You should have kept your mouth shut.
I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was going to faint. I started crying. But he kept his eyes shut and ignored me.
“I’m not mad at you. You’re being a woman. I’m mad at myself for expecting you to be different”
What the actual fuck was that supposed to mean. I’m not different? I’m easily replaceable? He’s done with me and there’s someone else who can easily fill my shoes? Fuck.
And that’s when I headed for the shower. Crank it on, keep it cold and let the water numb you until you feel nothing. Except unlike the last time, I still felt everything. Guilt, shame, fear of what was to come. I felt it all, I was just cold and shaking. I turned the water off and paced, thinking of what I could say, what I could do so that we could pretend this never happened and go back to the awesome night we were having. Fuck.
Deep breaths, dry off, crawl back into bed where he’s still awake, and still silent. Start with I’m sorry. Because those words have never been truer than they are tonight.
He asked me two questions.
Why do you think I’m with you?
Why are you with me?
You’d think those questions would be easy to answer. But the answers are so complex that I don’t even know how to put them into words. Especially with the pressure of your entire relationship riding on them. I can’t overthink these answers. I have to feel.
There are two things I must be for him – honest and loyal. Loyalty is not an issue. Neither is honestly. And tonight I was honest. It hurt both of us, but I didn’t hide anything from him, I owned up to what I’d done and now I’m trying to fix the mistake I made.
So my answers:
I think you’re with me because I’m honest, because I’m loyal. Because I support you in everything you do and enhance the life you’ve created for yourself. I make the not-so-good times better, and the good times greater. I’m yours, and only yours.
I’m with you because you make me a better person. Before you, I would have never considered sharing my writing with anyone, even a significant other. It’s been a personal thing that I’ve kept to myself, like most of my thoughts. I’m with you because you make me feel safe, you make me feel important and you make me feel more loved than I’ve ever felt before. You make my not-so-good times disappear when I’m wrapped in your arms, and the good times unimaginable. You are my rock, my home, my mate.
So as much as all 8 of you may have been dying to read about the rest of the kills, you’ll have to use your imagination. I don’t need to write about them to help me discover who I am. I know who I am, I know how I got here. I don’t need complete strangers on the Internet to validate my stories for me to figure out where I’be come from or where I’m going.
I’m on a ship with my captain, and we’re sailing on an amazing journey that I will continue to write about.