Feel It Again

It’s Saturday night. I’m spending the weekend alone.

Again.

I know it shouldn’t bother me that Mr. M. is at his brother’s cottage for the weekend.

I know.

But it still does.

I’m a shallow, petty human for feeling this way.

He told me earlier this week that he was going for a couple of days to help bring stuff back and close things up for the season. I had warning.

And he told me yesterday, when date-night got changed (more on that later), that it was his brother’s birthday, and that his sister-in-law was doing something up there to celebrate.

And he also told me that her parents (it’s her family’s cottages) would be there as well, probably the last time this season.

So I understand why he wouldn’t think to ask me to come. It’s not his cottage, nor his brother’s. It’s his sister-in-law’s family’s cottages.

He’s welcome to go up anytime, and does.

And yet even knowing that having such a full house may not be the ideal situation for me to be introduced, it still bothers me.

Which I know is wrong. And why I write about it here, where I hope I realize how stupid I am being.

But it brings up doubts and insecurities.

Which I know is wrong.

I know that he isn’t doing it on purpose. Meaning, he isn’t trying to hide me.

Or is he?

We were supposed to have a date on Friday night. Since he was going to be out-of-town, I asked if we could have a sleepover. A movie night, I’d cook dinner. Just a relaxing evening.

So he agreed Friday night was the best since he would be at the cottage likely Saturday and Sunday nights.

I didn’t hear from him all day on Friday, until he texted me at 6:30 to say he was finishing up and the gym and did I still want to get together?

Duh. (Implied). Of course I replied that I wanted to get together.

So he wrote back that he would head to my place and then we would decide from there.

Hmm…. not exactly dinner and a movie. I figured he had something else in mind so I played along.

He arrived at my place around 7pm; changed his clothes, then we headed out.

Following the same pattern as last week, we drove around for a while before settling on a restaurant for dinner.

When we arrived, he mentioned in conversation that he was waiting for his youngest son to text him; apparently he was going to be near Mr. M.’s house partying with friends, and wanted to know if he could crash there for the night.

This, I realized, is why our plan changed.

Now I am not so selfish a person that I wouldn’t understand the situation, had he actually mentioned it to me directly. Had he said, ‘sorry but there’s a change in plans, Kid2 wants to come spend the night after being with friends. Rain-check on sleepover?’

I would totally have accepted that. I realize that his kids come first – and his kids never spend the night at his place (aged 23, 19) so of course that would have been – and was – okay with me.

He wasn’t dishonest. He didn’t lie to me. He didn’t omit anything. But it’s just… not sitting right with me.

For no reason.

It’s not like we had a SET plan: I would show up at his place with a cooked dinner and movies at 7pm. We kind of left it casual.

So yeah, there is really nothing to be upset, worried, concerned about.

Right?

Especially given that I had seen him the night before, as well as on Monday.

Monday was his gym night and he texted me after to say that he felt like going for shawarma, and so he picked me up then we went to his favorite place and shared a chicken platter.

Then on Thursday, he drove his motorcycle over, I fed him dinner and we chatted for a bit. And then after we went in my room and ended up fooling around a little.

He did something to me that made me have such reaction that I broke down in tears.

The good kind of tears; not bad ones. My body was just overwhelmed – sensory overload – and it responded.

By breaking out in tears. Nice. There’s a sexy move right there.

So even after that experience – which was something I had only seen happen to women in porn movies – I still have my doubts.

Still.

All because he is spending the weekend with his family.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I mean, really?

We’ve been dating for a little less than 2 months. In fact it was 8 weeks ago yesterday when we first ‘connected’.

And what a connection. We have really good sexual chemistry, but we can also talk a lot about music and current affairs, and books and …. everything. We talk about our pasts, our families, parents, and things that happened to us in previous relationships.

We even talked yesterday about my writing this blog. We talked about how his youngest has anxiety issues, and a little about what he has gone through. I also talked to him about my issues with depression and how this blog helps me by making me see when my behavior needs to change or needs adjusting.

Like right now.

So that is what I am doing; writing now, at 9:30 on a Saturday night so that I can see exactly what’s going on with me. That I worry unnecessarily. And that instead of worrying and stressing about why I haven’t met any of Mr. M.’s friends or family, I should instead think about what he did to me on Thursday night… and look forward to when we will get together next so he can try to make my body do it again.

IF my body can handle it, that is.

So what if he didn’t stay over that night. Or the other few times we had sexy time.

In the last couple weeks we’ve seen each other about three times in the course of a week.

And only had sexy time twice, so…. it’s more than just that.

So I need to relax. Be patient. And when my insecurities rear their ugly heads, I need to  come back and read this blog and all will be good.

Because it will be good.

I’ve no reason to believe it won’t.

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