There Are Nights When I'm Lying In Bed Next To Her, Where I'm Safe And Cozy And I Should Be Happy.

There are nights when I'm lying in bed next to her, where I'm safe and cozy and I should be happy.

But I'm not. I'm restless. I'm angry without purpose. I'm stressed. I'm sad.

She brings me so much joy, but he steals it.

It's a little embarrassing. For a long time I thought I'd be touch repulsed forever. I thought i didn't like or deserve hugs and people touching me felt like a threat. Like a bomb would go off if there was contact for too long. Like my skin was burning.

Turns out that I love to be touched and hugged by the right person and I am so severely affection starved that I find it difficult to sit near her without being in contact somehow.

My only saving grace is that she is a very affectionate person by nature. Otherwise I'm sure she'd find me clingy.

I have prided myself on my independence these past few years. Relished in my solitude.

It is a scary thing to feel as though you might need someone again.

Hats

Throughout the healing process it hasn’t been the assaults, sexual coercion, and the emotional torture that has been difficult to understand. 

No, no.  It’s been resolving that reality to the person who was, on rare occasions, undeniably kind to me and charming to others.  The one who was loved by the family dog.  The one who helped out his grandma and had a really sweet relationship with her. 

It’s so much easier to think of them as monsters, and I’d argue that it is probably a necessity in the early stages of the recovery process.

But they're human.  And somehow that’s a difficult pill to swallow.

Damper

It was bound to happen eventually. Truthfully I was expecting it to happen sooner, so I guess my surprise comes from having dodged it this long.

I flipped shit while in the process of having sex last night.

I couldn't even look at her. Even when I did to assure her that I was alright (I wasn't) I looked through her. I couldn't explain what happened; I still can't.

In the positive category, she did everything she was supposed to. She ceased immediately when she realized something was wrong. She held me, left me alone when i needed it, and then held me again when I needed that. She's supportive though a bit ( understandably) bewildered.

She keeps asking what she did that triggered me. I think I'm most upset that I don't know what happened, and despite my "You didn't do anything wrong" she knows that I can't say definitively that it wasn't something she did.

Bewilderment

I saw a musical recently; a tongue in cheek comedy based on a cult classic.

One of the characters was a real unsavory person - a liar, a pusher, a rapist and abuser. At the same time, he also facilitates some of the comedy, so it was not uncommon to laugh at one of his lines. One, however, really threw me off.

“I could kill you, you know!” he says to his lady companion who was pushing his buttons.

The audience laughed. I held my breath.

What is this all about?

I don't know what has come over me but I'm feeling compelled to unblock him from Facebook. I don't want to talk, but I just want to snoop.

Nothing good will come of this. So I won't. But this compulsion hasn't hit me in almost a year. Why now?