Honesty and Fantasyland

We had a very nice dinner last night with great conversation.

We talked this and that but, as always, we tended to talk about us.

I have frequently told her that she deserves better. That my issues have drug her into a cesspool and she needs to get out.

I have told her that I see this as my one and only shot to keep her and maybe, MAYBE, win back her intimacy.

She has always said that she will never leave.

Last night was different.

At dinner she told me how proud she was of me for turning my life around.
“I have not turned anything around. I’m trying to do it, but it hasn’t happened yet.” I told her that it was within the realm of possibility that this never changes. “It’s possible that I give up and become consumed by my addiction.”

As we left she said, “You’re right. If this never changes I will leave.”
Finally, honesty.

I have told her that losing my family is my motivation. But last night I went through every possible permutation of what could happen. Out loud. Where she could hear it and participate.

Fucking stupid.

“I would be stupid to stay in that environment.”

She would be stupid.

It’s just different to FINALLY hear her say it. ‘If x happens, I’m leaving you’ is sobering to say the least.

History Lesson
I spent the rest of my night working on my sexual history. There was some funny stuff in there. Like the time my girlfriend (now wife) and I were on a long bus ride home.

The most I had ever tried to pull with her was grabbing her titties. I eventually was allowed to free them from the constraints of her bra and show them proper respect and love. As we made out on the bus I made my pilgrimage to her amazing tatas. It was, as always, incredible. She, on the other hand and completely out of character, reached into my shorts and commenced giving me a hand job.

My sweet, innocent and pure girlfriend grabbed me and provided me with the most incredible HJ I had ever experienced. Since I was a randy high school kid, I had been the recipient of quite a few HJ’s. To this day she swears mine was the first dong she had ever grabbed.

So that was a funny side trip in my history. We laugh about it every once and awhile still.

Then there was the painful stuff. The molestation I endured and the stuff that happened over the next few years. They all led to my addiction. I realize now that I became addicted very early in life. Things just went downhill from there.

I wrote for about 2 hours. I spent 5 pages on middle school alone.
Ugh…

Turd In The Punchbowl20131210-105121.jpg

We went to bed and discussed stuff. I had become a bit of a basket case since I was literally re-living my past. Willingly re-living it.

She rolled onto her side and snuggled up to me. I moved away. She moved back to me. “Stop it” was her immediate response. She grabbed my arm and pulled it over her. Accordingly, I cried like a little kid who just had his candy stolen.
“I love you.
More tears.
“I’m proud of you.”
Sweet mercy, MORE tears.
Then she prayed for us.
You guessed it, more tears.

I apologized for bringing her into this. I apologized for what I had done, for endangering her, for lying to her, for covering things up, for disrespecting her, for not being the leader she needed. “I accept your apologies.” Something odd happened next. I apologized for being weak and not being strong for her. She said nothing.

I don’t know how to read that.
Then I apologized for ending our day with a turd in the Punchbowl. She accepted that apology.

Is she holding on to my weakness? Does she not accept THAT apology? What does it mean if she doesn’t?

Gone Too Far
I was aware of her snuggling up to me overnight. It was great! That NEVER happens unless it’s ass cold. It was cold last night, but not that cold. I think she was loving on me!

I awoke and trundled into the kitchen. I found her making the blessëd coffee. She was wearing some very nice pajama pants. They are VERY tight across her butt. Sweet mother of god. She was showing off her ass. I was entranced.

We talked in the kitchen. She did whatever she was doing and I checked out her ass. It really is quite nice; you should see it. I’ll kick your ass if you do, so take my word.

She came over to me and we embraced. A little kissing and a whole lot of me grabbing ass.

She didn’t pull away!

I continued my efforts at ass grabbing. She let me continue.
THIS was getting exciting.

And then it was over.

Many, many times before she would kiss me or hug me and I would misread the situation. If she allowed me to kiss her and my hands would roam, I would read that as, “dude, you’re about to f your lady!” But it NEVER went like that. She just wanted a lite kiss and a rub. I always voiced my displeasure. That lead to her not letting it happen anymore.

Way to fuck up a good thing, asshole.

This morning the kiss and a rub came back. I think I said something about needing to stop. That I was becoming fired up. “Sorry” was her immediate reaction. “I’ll stop wearing these pants.”
‘Please don’t do that. I’m learning how to deal and I would HATE to never see that again.’

A little time went by. She had left the room to do whatever and she came back in. “Come sit next to me.” She actually did it. We chatted for a moment or two when I sprung the first kiss. She was a bit mechanical. I didn’t notice it at first. When she pulled away, I looked her in the eye, grabbed (gentlemanly) her chin and brought her back in. More mechanical kissing.
“I don’t want to make out.”
‘Ok.’

I had gone too far. I should have realized when she was still sitting up straight. Her back was flat against the couch. These are not signs of her being into the kissing thing.

I guess I was fantasizing she was into it. She let me kiss her. Obviously she wants more.

No, dumbass. She let you kiss her but have zero indication that more was going to be allowed. No sign of attraction. Dude, leave her the hell alone.

I have no idea how to read her body language when it comes to intimacy. Well, I know it’s cool to move forward when she kisses back aggressively and has the “f me” look on her face. Any jackass could recognize that. But when I’m the aggressor and she’s just chilling out; I have no clue if it’s cool to continue. I still live in Fantasyland.

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About MyJourney

I'm a 41 year old married father of 3. I am a sex addict. This blog is to document my progress, recovery and marital growth. Pornography is an evil creation. Let my experiences serve as a warning to all.
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