We went out. Ended up in Clapham, expecting to meet our mates who never came. Typical. But it was a good night. Didn’t go crazy. Drunk enough to feel it but not have a hangover this morning. Lots of lovely looking guys there, there always have been, I’ve always seen them but I haven’t been pulled to them. I’ve always been content in getting home to G.
Yes guys will make my head turn, I will find other guys attractive and think about how it would be to sleep with them, but it doesn’t take away from my want of getting into bed at the end of a night with G. That’s what makes me happy.
So it was very weird to be out with this new freedom, that I never wanted it. I honestly wouldn’t know where to start with approaching someone. I’m not ready for that, and that’s not why I was there last night, but it scares me.
Wake up at 5ish, mouth is so dry. I’m next to my mate in his bed and don’t want to disturb him so I lie there with a mouth like sandpaper. It gets too much to I go and get some water. Get back in to bed and try to sleep some more. I dose but wake about 7ish. His room is so cold and the curtains so thin the light is so bright.
I need blackout curtains, ear plugs (which thankfully I have), complete darkness. I’m hating it. Everything me and G love, and have set up at home I will have to endure without at other places.
G knows my pet peeves, I hate hearing people eating. HATE IT. I have to move away, it cringes me out so much. So G doesn’t eat loudly. Or he tries his best not too. It makes me sound like a diva, but I’m not. It’s just that’s why I love G… He knows these things about me and adapts. Like I hope I do with him. I would adapt anything for him.
So waking up in a bedroom I’ve never been in before is like waking up in a foreign country. I didn’t know what to do!
I had hours to lie there and torture myself with images of G and S’s last morning together, waking up together, most probably having sex, then maybe an emotional goodbye? I don’t know. I have no idea how much they have invested in this. Have they told each other they love each other? I feel sick at the thought. My stomach just turned.
He’s already driving home by now. I know this. It’s given me abit of peace, as he’s coming back to reality. Away from Leeds. And away from S for now. He can have time to think, I hope.
I’ve left my mates as he has marathon training. And I’ve come into town.
I got off the train at London Bridge and walked along the southbank, I reminded myself how amazing this city is, how big it is. All the life that lives in it. How small and insignificant I am in the grand scheme of things.
I need to remain strong. Take comfort in the beautiful surroundings, friends, and health.
I got home from my long day alone. And settled down for the night.
I love my mum. She is amazing. We go round and round with the same conversation and she really kicks me for it. But I know she doesn’t mind. She does this all the time in her line of work. She works with abused woman. She is so strong.
We talk about lots of things; jobs, what I can do instead of FoH, we talk about how much I want to message G, talk to him. She advises not to, like everyone else I have expressed that want to. She wants me to get angry. I just don’t have it in me yet.
I think she thinks I should be angry about the betrayal, sexual betrayal. But you see me and G are quite free thinking when it comes to sex. We’ve fooled about together, invited people in, always point out guys we think are hot. We don’t have an open relationship. But I have the view that humans weren’t made to be sexually monogamous. I just think humans aren’t made for one thing the whole of their lives, they crave excitement, crave new things and differences. I’m sure many people disagree with me, but I think this is why cheating and affairs are so common. It’s sad really. But in no way by me thinking this does it mean I would happily go and cheat myself. It’s just about understanding it, and communicating boundaries within the relationship.
So I’m not angry about the sexual betrayal. Yet.
I’m just hurt he didn’t speak to me before it got to that point. He didn’t confide in me. The one person he is meant to. It just makes me feel so unbelievably sad. I want him to love me.
Anyway, we continue talking and I’ve always wanted (like my mum has done) to volunteer. Feel like I’m helping other people. She said there is nothing more rewarding, and to make you feel good about yourself than to help other people less fortunate than yourself.
I’m going to do it. I’m not sure how or within what, but I just feel the need to help. Help in some way. I’m looking in to it. I hate the thought of people going through what I’m going through and having no-one to talk to. I want to be an ear for people, or a distraction for people, like I’ve had from the amazing people in my life.
Ps. I’ve joined the gym online, all paid for. Tomorrow is my first day of my new routine, up, train into London, gym, walk in to the centre of town and then see what happens. Work? Coffees? Lunches? London is my oyster. (I just need a job to pay for it all!!)