J from Cambridge

As I pounded the pavements in the rain this morning, for some reason my mind wandered to J. 

Lovely, wretched J who I knew was wrong for me from the beginning, but with whom I had the love affair I'd always wanted. 

We fundamentally wanted different things. I was looking for a way to ease myself out of a relationship where I was no longer happy, and the more I think about it the more I feel as though he was looking for a way to block the loneliness out. It ended in pain, for sure. Definitely mine, but I cannot say if he hurt at all. 

I've been so mad at him for not letting me into his life. For saying he "didn't see a future for us". Ouch. But now I just feel sad that the time I spent with him I also spent fantasising that it was something different, rather than really taking on board how lovely it was, right then. He definitely spoiled me with gifts. That was rather nice.

But then I also often felt low in his presence because I had no fucking idea what was going on. Just as the sex was fantastic and intimate one minute, he would switch and become very distant the next. 

He also liked to lick my teeth when we kissed. How in god's name do you actually tell someone you love that you find it utterly repulsive when they lick your teeth? Not just lick, either, but full on stick-your-tongue-in-my-mouth-and-swirl type affair. Shudder at the memory.

But still, now with the distance of time and a new love, I think what a shame. What a shame I didn't squeeze all the love out of that relationship when I had the chance. What a shame I didn't let him just be...what a shame indeed.