Post by JMX on Jun 7, 2018 22:35:17 GMT -5
My ex-boyfriend is dead.
I loved him in a way I could love no other.
I was never starved for affection - I was loved by him.
We had so much fun together. He was my best friend. He was my actual “lover”.
My greatest sexual triumph was with him - I made him cum seven times in two hours. But, we were in our twenties
He went down on me - all the time. He loved it! Sometimes, I would have to beat him off of me - he tried so hard. Pretty much the MOST sexually free I have ever felt with someone I had been in a relationship with.
We were together for six years.
I remember waking up one day and wanting something more. I was sick of the partying. I was sick of the drugs. I had graduated and I wanted a LIFE. I left him and the lifestyle behind.
I got married, I had kids.
My husband was a complete 180 from him. Introverted - thinks before he speaks, not the life of the party - he doesn’t really like parties, and - not as “into” me as I would have liked. I realize now I picked him precisely because he was the exact opposite.
My ex - 15 years ago after we broke up - maybe 16, got so involved in pills and eventually heroin, that our mutual friends one-by-one let him go. He had been jailed, to rehab and had gotten clean. Many times over.
I saw him January this year. He was “clean.” We hugged, and it was awkward. It was the first time I had seen him in 13 years. We talked about Star Wars movies and Game of Thrones. We had nothing else anymore.
He shot up at work on Monday and died in a bathroom that he didn’t recognize. He had a moment of weakness. A momentary lapse of judgement and it went too far. He is dead.
I am currently suffering FB posters that loved him but talk more about themselves than they do of him (which I choose to do here). The “I should have done more!” diatribes, the false friends. Everyone was his friend. Some (the closest) had to let him go a long time ago. Me too.
I don’t regret my decision. I know it was right.
I picked (for my future) the exact opposite.
Crikey.
I am sad he will never see the last season of Game of Thrones. As the Star Ward cannon is being obliterated with non-sense - I am glad he won’t be there for that.
And that is all I have for someone I cared about so deeply. I can cry about the times we had and how they were wonderful - but mostly, they were drunk and fueled with drugs. And furthermore, I have no sincere sadness that I should have.
I loved him. I have shed a tear or two. I am not rocked by his death at all. I am only shocked that I am not.
I wonder if this is what a divorce would feel like?
I loved him in a way I could love no other.
I was never starved for affection - I was loved by him.
We had so much fun together. He was my best friend. He was my actual “lover”.
My greatest sexual triumph was with him - I made him cum seven times in two hours. But, we were in our twenties
He went down on me - all the time. He loved it! Sometimes, I would have to beat him off of me - he tried so hard. Pretty much the MOST sexually free I have ever felt with someone I had been in a relationship with.
We were together for six years.
I remember waking up one day and wanting something more. I was sick of the partying. I was sick of the drugs. I had graduated and I wanted a LIFE. I left him and the lifestyle behind.
I got married, I had kids.
My husband was a complete 180 from him. Introverted - thinks before he speaks, not the life of the party - he doesn’t really like parties, and - not as “into” me as I would have liked. I realize now I picked him precisely because he was the exact opposite.
My ex - 15 years ago after we broke up - maybe 16, got so involved in pills and eventually heroin, that our mutual friends one-by-one let him go. He had been jailed, to rehab and had gotten clean. Many times over.
I saw him January this year. He was “clean.” We hugged, and it was awkward. It was the first time I had seen him in 13 years. We talked about Star Wars movies and Game of Thrones. We had nothing else anymore.
He shot up at work on Monday and died in a bathroom that he didn’t recognize. He had a moment of weakness. A momentary lapse of judgement and it went too far. He is dead.
I am currently suffering FB posters that loved him but talk more about themselves than they do of him (which I choose to do here). The “I should have done more!” diatribes, the false friends. Everyone was his friend. Some (the closest) had to let him go a long time ago. Me too.
I don’t regret my decision. I know it was right.
I picked (for my future) the exact opposite.
Crikey.
I am sad he will never see the last season of Game of Thrones. As the Star Ward cannon is being obliterated with non-sense - I am glad he won’t be there for that.
And that is all I have for someone I cared about so deeply. I can cry about the times we had and how they were wonderful - but mostly, they were drunk and fueled with drugs. And furthermore, I have no sincere sadness that I should have.
I loved him. I have shed a tear or two. I am not rocked by his death at all. I am only shocked that I am not.
I wonder if this is what a divorce would feel like?