So I only rarely post on this forum: all of my previous posts were from the epic thread "Excessive Physical Contact from a Staight Guy?," in which I sporadically contributed to the tangly narrative of how my now -exboyfriend (p700granat) and I met. To sum up: we initially met after I responded to his CL ad in the wake of his frustrations with a straight furry at our undergrad college. We had lunch together a few times and eventually started hooking up. After a brief period of confusion after commencement, we talked things over and decided to enter a relationship starting in July. To alleviate some of the long-distance issues, I visited him in San Francisco during my birthday weekend in August, and we continued chatting online and talking over the phone. Finally, he came to see me here in Chicago this past weekend.
I had eagerly anticipating this visit for some time, although in the back of my mind, I was feeling a bit uneasy, too. B (all subsequent references to my ex-bf will be in this form) and I had talked about me being able to see other guys for sex while he and I were apart, with the caveat that I tell him about what I was doing. I had told him about a Japanese guy with whom I had cuddled back in October, but I had since then failed to mention my affairs with three other guys. I had been thinking about broaching this topic to him over the weekend, in the interest of preserving the honesty that had seemed to underpin our relationship for so long. At the same time, I feared that doing so might compromise the relationship, since, no matter how much any one ever says that it's "ok" to confess one's acts, there is always some intense feeling of guilt from the confessor, coupled with an impulsive shock or surprise from the one listening ot his confession, which, between them, can often lead to awkwardness and destruction.
Anyway, we decided to hang out around Chicago and see some sites this weekend. We ate at a few nice places, went to the Museum of Science and Industry, walked along the shore of Lake Michigan, went to Navy Pier, saw a movie, had deep dish pizza downtown late at night, and of course, were in bed together each night from Friday til Sunday. Things were going very smoothly until Saturday night, when we decided to have sex in my shower...we had done oral, body contact, and an array of other things together before, but never any penetration, since he had not had the best experience with his previous bf, plus he was worried about the thickness of my cock. However, he agreed to do it this time, and so we started, and he was moaning in what I *thought* was ectasy, but as it turned out, he was actually in quite a bit of pain, and after what seemed like an eternity, told me to stop. I impulsively reacted with tears, thinking about how I had caused him such pain and not known it, and how he must think I was inconsiderate of his feelings. He was comforting me and then went back to cleaning himself up in the shower, so I went ahead and dried off and waited for him in the bedroom. Maybe I should have stayed with him longer to see if his pain was ok (more on this later).
Our talk in bed that night was ok, and I was not yet worried about any larger repurcussions for the relationship. But Sunday night brought an even more startling turn of events. We started hooking up again and B told me that this was the time to try out any of my wildest fetishes, since it would be our last time together for some time most likely. Naturally, we ended up having another go at me topping him in the shower...I used lots and lots of lube, I went slow, I asked him if it was ok when I was starting out, and I ended up finishing this time....only to discover afterwards that he had been once again in pain and that there was quite a bit of blood, too :/ He was cleaning himself up while I was out in the bedroom, and I asked him if he was ok and he seemed to be doing alright, though I still do not yet have an idea of just how much he had ignored in order to make it through that episode.
We got back into bed later that night and began what turned out to be an epic conversation...I can't go through all the details, except to say that it was some of the most stimulating intellectual discussion I've had outside of academia (my normal field). There was some embarrassment at first, though, as I did tell him about those stories I mentioned at the outset, and although he seemed initially angry (which I had feared, as I said in my spiel about confessions), he became more measured as the conversation progressed. And it progressed right into a sudden, almost quiet and indistinct break-up...somewhere in our swirl of conversation topics about distance, promiscuity, attraction, and our expectations of each other, we decided that maybe this just was not meant to work out. After all, long-distance is hard. We hooked up one last time, and then departed while I was on my way to work this morning.
--
Ok, so now the more important details. I was upset almost all day over this breakup; although it had seemed so harmless and right when it happened, some part of me apparently still wanted to cling to its memory. I had nothing but the highest affection for B as a person and my memories our times together during the spring semester of our senior year and in SF this summer and even during this weekend, were some of my fondest memories of all. I had never felt such a combination of physical and emotional attraction to anyone, ever. I thought that he was adorably cute, so intelligent, and so considerate...I mean, who else among my friends would come across the country to see me in Chicago in the winter, just mainly to stay in my small studio apt with me? I felt as if the breakup had severed me from a person whose caliber I was unlikely to find duplicated in anyone else. I was a wreck all afternoon and didn't even leave my apt in between my sobbing and napping.
Then we talked online this evening, and all I can say is that my emotions underwent a dramatic, dramatic shift. B did not seem to be taking this nearly as hard as I was, and after I pressed him a bit, he revealed to me that he had not even been physically attracted to me the whole time.. This after 9 months together, countless hookups, two cross country trips, almost daily calls and online chats, not to mention, plenty of instances in which he went out of his way to try and keep this going. I had once called him and told him I had to tell him something, and he instinctively feared that I was going to breakup with him! He also had expressed to me his desire to "make things work" after seeing a romantic comedy/chick flick and told me again and again that he thought that it would be hard to find someone like me, with whom he could connect so readily. So I was more than a little surprised that he had worked so fervently to preserve a relationship which had only the illusion of actually having a healthy physical component, since his secrecy about his non-attraction to me had totally blinded me to his real feelings. He told me that he had never thought of me while masturbating and that he thought of others even while we were hooking up.
I was surprised, as I said, but at the same time, his revelation was in keeping with my previous encounters with his emotional opacity...that is, his almost unfailing ability not to reveal feeling, especially in public, or to let slip almost anything spotaneous in his phone or IM conversations. I had just attributed this to his "serious" personality and thought it was nothing major, but now, it seemed to make sense. More specificaly, the pain incidents from the weekend now seemed even more disturbing...he had endured that suffering, even though he wasn't attracted to me physically and thought that the relationship could just survive on our relationship as "persons." Looking back on some JUB posts now in which he downplays the physical aspect, this does start to make more sense.
Now, I feel like I have been just dragged along for so long now. He says he likes me as a "person," but why did he let me think that we had something going physically? And it's not as if physicality was my only aim in the relationship...after all, I invested a lot in our conversations and chats. What I'm getting at is: how insensitive is it to someone's status as a "person," to their emotional well-being, to entice them again and again with fulfilling physical contact, even though the attraction is only one-sided and the acts predicated only on pretense? Am I right to feel hurt? And what of the specific pain incidents? He seems to think that I was being inconsiderate of his needs, but he did not say anything to me at the time.
Hm, I guess if there is a moral to the story, it seems that it is that secrets kill relationships. I am not trying to position myself as the one who is "right" in this whole affair, since after all I kept my own secrets about my affairs until fairly late in the running and should have aired them earlier, after all. But I must say that this is the most jarring, shocking secret I have ever encountered in one of my relationships, and one that I'm not sure I will get over soon. Is it even possible for him and I to be "friends" now, as he wants? I hope that this rant does not upset him and I truly do not mean it out of spite, but more for my own expression and therapy. I just want some other reactions. And I'm sorry if my sentences are rambling and incoherent, since I have been up for a while now.
I had eagerly anticipating this visit for some time, although in the back of my mind, I was feeling a bit uneasy, too. B (all subsequent references to my ex-bf will be in this form) and I had talked about me being able to see other guys for sex while he and I were apart, with the caveat that I tell him about what I was doing. I had told him about a Japanese guy with whom I had cuddled back in October, but I had since then failed to mention my affairs with three other guys. I had been thinking about broaching this topic to him over the weekend, in the interest of preserving the honesty that had seemed to underpin our relationship for so long. At the same time, I feared that doing so might compromise the relationship, since, no matter how much any one ever says that it's "ok" to confess one's acts, there is always some intense feeling of guilt from the confessor, coupled with an impulsive shock or surprise from the one listening ot his confession, which, between them, can often lead to awkwardness and destruction.
Anyway, we decided to hang out around Chicago and see some sites this weekend. We ate at a few nice places, went to the Museum of Science and Industry, walked along the shore of Lake Michigan, went to Navy Pier, saw a movie, had deep dish pizza downtown late at night, and of course, were in bed together each night from Friday til Sunday. Things were going very smoothly until Saturday night, when we decided to have sex in my shower...we had done oral, body contact, and an array of other things together before, but never any penetration, since he had not had the best experience with his previous bf, plus he was worried about the thickness of my cock. However, he agreed to do it this time, and so we started, and he was moaning in what I *thought* was ectasy, but as it turned out, he was actually in quite a bit of pain, and after what seemed like an eternity, told me to stop. I impulsively reacted with tears, thinking about how I had caused him such pain and not known it, and how he must think I was inconsiderate of his feelings. He was comforting me and then went back to cleaning himself up in the shower, so I went ahead and dried off and waited for him in the bedroom. Maybe I should have stayed with him longer to see if his pain was ok (more on this later).
Our talk in bed that night was ok, and I was not yet worried about any larger repurcussions for the relationship. But Sunday night brought an even more startling turn of events. We started hooking up again and B told me that this was the time to try out any of my wildest fetishes, since it would be our last time together for some time most likely. Naturally, we ended up having another go at me topping him in the shower...I used lots and lots of lube, I went slow, I asked him if it was ok when I was starting out, and I ended up finishing this time....only to discover afterwards that he had been once again in pain and that there was quite a bit of blood, too :/ He was cleaning himself up while I was out in the bedroom, and I asked him if he was ok and he seemed to be doing alright, though I still do not yet have an idea of just how much he had ignored in order to make it through that episode.
We got back into bed later that night and began what turned out to be an epic conversation...I can't go through all the details, except to say that it was some of the most stimulating intellectual discussion I've had outside of academia (my normal field). There was some embarrassment at first, though, as I did tell him about those stories I mentioned at the outset, and although he seemed initially angry (which I had feared, as I said in my spiel about confessions), he became more measured as the conversation progressed. And it progressed right into a sudden, almost quiet and indistinct break-up...somewhere in our swirl of conversation topics about distance, promiscuity, attraction, and our expectations of each other, we decided that maybe this just was not meant to work out. After all, long-distance is hard. We hooked up one last time, and then departed while I was on my way to work this morning.
--
Ok, so now the more important details. I was upset almost all day over this breakup; although it had seemed so harmless and right when it happened, some part of me apparently still wanted to cling to its memory. I had nothing but the highest affection for B as a person and my memories our times together during the spring semester of our senior year and in SF this summer and even during this weekend, were some of my fondest memories of all. I had never felt such a combination of physical and emotional attraction to anyone, ever. I thought that he was adorably cute, so intelligent, and so considerate...I mean, who else among my friends would come across the country to see me in Chicago in the winter, just mainly to stay in my small studio apt with me? I felt as if the breakup had severed me from a person whose caliber I was unlikely to find duplicated in anyone else. I was a wreck all afternoon and didn't even leave my apt in between my sobbing and napping.
Then we talked online this evening, and all I can say is that my emotions underwent a dramatic, dramatic shift. B did not seem to be taking this nearly as hard as I was, and after I pressed him a bit, he revealed to me that he had not even been physically attracted to me the whole time.. This after 9 months together, countless hookups, two cross country trips, almost daily calls and online chats, not to mention, plenty of instances in which he went out of his way to try and keep this going. I had once called him and told him I had to tell him something, and he instinctively feared that I was going to breakup with him! He also had expressed to me his desire to "make things work" after seeing a romantic comedy/chick flick and told me again and again that he thought that it would be hard to find someone like me, with whom he could connect so readily. So I was more than a little surprised that he had worked so fervently to preserve a relationship which had only the illusion of actually having a healthy physical component, since his secrecy about his non-attraction to me had totally blinded me to his real feelings. He told me that he had never thought of me while masturbating and that he thought of others even while we were hooking up.
I was surprised, as I said, but at the same time, his revelation was in keeping with my previous encounters with his emotional opacity...that is, his almost unfailing ability not to reveal feeling, especially in public, or to let slip almost anything spotaneous in his phone or IM conversations. I had just attributed this to his "serious" personality and thought it was nothing major, but now, it seemed to make sense. More specificaly, the pain incidents from the weekend now seemed even more disturbing...he had endured that suffering, even though he wasn't attracted to me physically and thought that the relationship could just survive on our relationship as "persons." Looking back on some JUB posts now in which he downplays the physical aspect, this does start to make more sense.
Now, I feel like I have been just dragged along for so long now. He says he likes me as a "person," but why did he let me think that we had something going physically? And it's not as if physicality was my only aim in the relationship...after all, I invested a lot in our conversations and chats. What I'm getting at is: how insensitive is it to someone's status as a "person," to their emotional well-being, to entice them again and again with fulfilling physical contact, even though the attraction is only one-sided and the acts predicated only on pretense? Am I right to feel hurt? And what of the specific pain incidents? He seems to think that I was being inconsiderate of his needs, but he did not say anything to me at the time.
Hm, I guess if there is a moral to the story, it seems that it is that secrets kill relationships. I am not trying to position myself as the one who is "right" in this whole affair, since after all I kept my own secrets about my affairs until fairly late in the running and should have aired them earlier, after all. But I must say that this is the most jarring, shocking secret I have ever encountered in one of my relationships, and one that I'm not sure I will get over soon. Is it even possible for him and I to be "friends" now, as he wants? I hope that this rant does not upset him and I truly do not mean it out of spite, but more for my own expression and therapy. I just want some other reactions. And I'm sorry if my sentences are rambling and incoherent, since I have been up for a while now.


















