You Should Have Just Been Honest

Content warning: Themes of/references to sex

This time you loved the conversation before you had sex. You loved the conversation afterward. You loved that he reached over and slid his fingers in between yours. He closed his fingers first and you followed suit. You hesitated because you didn’t want to reveal how you really felt about him, but you desperately wanted him to stay. He delicately stroked your naked chest, and you gently did the same to his. You stroked his fingers while he held yours and told him how surprisingly soft they were. You never wanted it to end. You panicked at the thought, pushed it down. Carried on chatting. You spoke about family, he has a sister, you remembered that, his dad getting older and no longer having the sexual capacity to cheat, his parents are happier now. You asked when he was coming over again for sex to mask how you really you felt. He was changed from when you were having sex. He was now sweet, gentle, caring, affectionate and you loved it. You loved that it was him. His behavior surprised you and you loved it. You love him. You still thought he wanted something casual, and you just desperately wanted him in any capacity, so you lied to yourself to get what you convinced yourself you were deserving of, a casual sexual encounter with a man you clearly loved. You convinced yourself you would never be together because you didn’t trust him not to cheat. After all, that is how he presented himself for years, it was a family trait. You should have just been honest.

He started to get ready to go. You felt disappointment and sadness. Tell him. You don’t. Ask him to stay. Tell him you want the affection, from him, the closeness, from him, just him. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed shirt on, pants on, but trousers still on the floor. You kneel behind him, put your arms around his neck, hands stroking his chest slowly. You nuzzle into the side of his neck and kiss him gently. You tell him, ‘I think you should stay…for a little while longer’.Why can’t you just say it? Why can’t you just say, ‘I want you to stay’? Stop adding caveats to protect yourself. He says he has to go. He has an early start. He has a paper to write. You say please. You kiss his neck more but still gently. He leans against you. You want this. You want him. This isn’t just sex for you. You want to stay like this forever.You notice he hasn’t moved. He seems calm, content. You slowly start to touch his cock. Still kissing his neck. You tell him you want to see him again. He says Thursday and Sunday. You got what you wanted. No, you didn’t. You want him, not sex with him. You’re just using sex as the consolation prize because you don’t think he’ll agree to stay or see you again without the offer of sex. You’re still kissing his neck; he’s still leaning against you. He seems relaxed. You tell him you’ll stop being mean and let him go home. Why? You want him to stay. It’s all you want. You love him. Tell him that. He leaves saying he’ll see you on Thursday. 

You have no idea how heartbroken you are about to be. You should have just been honest. 

You were sitting in your favourite city in the world, perched on a park bench overlooking the sparkling Balearic waters, reading a book borrowed from your friend’s flat. It was Thursday and the excitement about seeing him that night, as he had promised, was infecting your entire being. It had permeated through to your walk, the way you poised yourself on the concrete bench, the way you flipped your hair out of your face when the warm, April breeze gently blew strands of it across your face. The excitement of knowing he wanted to see you, to be with you made you feel sexy, and it radiated from you in your every movement. 

His text came. You had a million things on your mind and replied reflexively. You had said it, ‘to be completely honest, I have been feeling this way for the past year and been lying to myself’. You finally said it, admitted openly to him and to yourself that you no longer wanted something casual. It scared you. Then you panicked. His text came, ‘I think we should leave it there’. You apologised. You tried to make it better by explaining. You verbally spiralled. You made it worse. Or did you? Yes. He stopped responding. You’re devastated. You can’t eat. You want him to reply more than anything. You’re pathetic. You want to hear the ping of your phone, see his name. Hours go by and you count every minute. Nothing. Heartbroken. You’ve ruined it. Why were you so honest now? Why weren’t you honest when you were lying next to him when he could read your body language, hear your tone of voice, see your facial expressions. That could have changed things. You could have asked him to stay then. Explain that you wanted him to sleep next to you, to be with you. You didn’t. You missed your chance. You should have just been honest when it mattered.

The pain was unreal. It is often said that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. The same was true here. You had no idea the depths of your love for him until he made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with you. The pain ripped through your body, emotional pain transforming into physical pain. You just about made it back to your friend’s flat, your walk stilted and unsure but fast, your face tight and rigid to hold in the tears that burned your eyes. The admission that he did not want you in his life would have been painful enough on its own. But the additional level of hurt that was intensifying your suffering was this: in the seven years you had known him and had occasional dalliances, you had actively lied to yourself about how you felt about him. You told yourself that you would never want to be with him because of his sexual proclivities and dating behaviour, he would probably cheat. The whole time you knew the real reason for your defensive answers; you knew you loved him and he did not want you. By making up fantastical excuses as to why you wouldn’t date him, you kept a false sense of control over the situation and were able to keep him in your life. You always knew he didn’t want you. You just couldn’t admit it to yourself. His message made it clear. You should have just been honest.