Little dude got his balls cut off this weekend. This allowed us to clean, go on a date, catch up on freelance, sleep in and for me to sneak in a run. He’s been a hard pup, but he’s a sweetie. Pretty jazzed for this brief break.
He told me, “I’m your boyfriend. I should be able to touch your body when I want to.”
And whatever will power and confidence and security I had built up about my body since the last time a man had torn it down with his, I felt it crumble.
I was wrong for not wanting his advances. If I loved him the right way, we would have sex and be happy and not fight. If I loved him the right way, he’d stop drinking so much. If I loved him the right way, he wouldn’t flirt openly with other women in front of me. If I loved him the right way, he’d change. He’d say he wanted to marry me. Don’t I want that?
The night my best friend talked to me about my anxiety and her experiences with a therapist, I had a small breakdown as I watched him flirt under the guise of work. I felt threatened, does she let him touch her? Could she love him the right way?
He defined love, for me, as a physical representation. I had to touch and be touched, regardless of how sick or sleepy or happy or not-turned-on I was. And sometimes when I pried, looking for him to tell me that emotional thing, whatever it was that I was looking for, he’d scold me for looking for a ‘sad story’ or rephrase my question in a way that was most satisfying in the moment.
"Can you see yourself spending the rest of your life with me?"
"I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you," he’d say and it would tide me over a few weeks until the anxiety would take root and shake me.
It shook me until it didn’t. And it took months to stop. And when it did, we broke up. I don’t remember there being any kind of revelation on my part like, “hey! Just because he’s my boyfriend doesn’t give him the right to do this! My self-worth and contribution to a relationship isn’t solely sex! I deserve better!”
It was more of a, “if I keep doing this I will go crazy. I am already crazy enough.”
It was only when I told my therapist that he said, “I’m your boyfriend. I should be able to touch your body when I want to,” that I understood how crazy it was. I remember asking her how and why I could be so cold and unwanting, and she had to explain to me a very simple philosophy I had heard, not heeded, a long time ago: this is your body, not his.
We went to Tahoe for the weekend with our friends Liz and Danny. We camped at Fallen Leaf Campground, which was beautiful but a bit busy. On Saturday, we walked to Fallen Leaf Lake and I let Beans swim around the shallow water on his leash. He hated it. Kismet did too, but once we hiked to Lake Tahoe, she waded in up to her stomach.
Both pups were worn out after the weekend, and Kismet was too tired to care that Beans was almost cuddling with her.
It was nice to be able to travel with these pups, they’re sweethearts. And Tahoe, just like every other spot of nature in California, is beautiful. Can’t wait to see the rest.
We took Beans to the beach today. He was so curious about the water, but a bit scared after the first wave knocked him over. We’re still waiting for his agility to kick in. I opted to leave Kismet at home. Two dogs on the N Judah train for 30 minutes would break me.
He’s worn out, finally! And Kismet is pretty jazzed that this little guy isn’t on her back right now.