Tuesday, 16 November 2010

The farewell fuck; Mark 2

It'd been over a month this time that S had stayed. We'd gotten closer than I ever expected, the closest in fact I've ever felt towards another human being. We had a few drinks at the pub earlier, and discussed this. I said that right now I couldn't imagine life without him. He felt the same. It's like we've known each other for years. We never argue, are always happy around each other.

I'd been feeling quite anxious for about a day, it's a bad time of year for me. Over Christmas and new year, even into Jan, it all just brings back horrible memories. Traumatic, so much so that I've been diagnosed last year with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Likely I wouldn't be very good company in this time leading into Christmas anyway, withdrawing into myself. Did so for a day already on the weekend. But the thought of a month without him with me is still daunting.

He was leaving in the night to drive back to the country. He'd drunk only a little at the pub and we had pizza from the local shop for dinner, and went on into the bedroom. Naked, I wrapped both my arms and legs around him, holding him tightly with everything I had. We made love so tenderly, full of passion and desire. My anxiety of the last day had passed and we both felt wonderful being together. Everything felt so good. I pulled him close and we kissed longingly while he fucked slowly, knowing we'd soon be apart. We were and are in love with each other.

He left later last night. Kissed me and I woke up, we hugged and parted. I watched him drive off out the bedroom window. I will survive I know, it will be OK. But I miss him already. Right now I feel like crying.

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