Today, I did something that was both wonderful ad scary.
I met a person who's become a close friend (I had asome free time this afternoon, and so did he). One thing lead to another and, long story short, we had sex.
Actually, it felt more like making love, because he cared about me. He knows I'm a survivor, and he kept asking all the time if I was okay with it. He did things when i asked him to, and he didn't push anything on me. The best thing about it was that he held me. He held me when I asked him to, and I felt safe with him. It was a very strange thing. After all the abuse, after all the sexuality-confusion, I enjoyed being with him, having sex with him, MAKING LOVE with him.
If NOTHING more than this happens between us, if we go back to just being friends, I'll NEVER regret this, because he taught me something. He taught me that it's okay to have sex, it's okay to CHOOSE to be intimate, and it's okay to be loved.
It's weird, but it was okay. I felt okay with it.
And if I never have sex with anyone ever again, I will always enjoy this, this moment, because I know, and feel, now that all sex doesn't have to be cheap and tawdry, that it doesn't have to be just to feel alive or to feel someone with you. It can be to just love and be loved, to share yourself with someone who cares about you, and yes, maybe even loves you. i honestly don't know what "love" is. I thought I've been in love many times, but this is as close to being "in love" I've felt when having sex.
It's wonderful. Mostly because it was a person who cared about ME, and that I could CHOOSE to do so.
It feels great to be alive and cared for.
Peace and love,
There are reasons I'm taking medication. They're called "other people." - Me, displaying my anti-social tendancies