The Contractor

Dear readers, I do apologize for the delay in updating this blog — it has been a crazy whirlwind of events. I’ll try to catch up ;)

So I go back to The Space, trying to quench the thirst that The Doctor has left inside me. I was not especially feeling naughty that night, so I was more open to a conversation rather than a spicy tryst. I came across this man who approached me and just wanted to have someone he can get to know first and see where it goes from there. He wanted a certain level of intimacy — not the one-and-done way — but rather, getting to know each other, learning each other’s buttons. I personally have not experienced a relationship like that, so I agreed. This was Monday.

Tuesday. By this time, we have already exchanged contact information and we were planning to call each other to hear each other’s voices. Again, this is another level of real that called out to me and appealed greatly to me. We exchanged photos prior to calling each other, and wow, what a sight. Even now, I can definitely remember how handsome he was. Tall, blonde hair, sharp nose, gentlest eyes, smooth skin — I daresay one of the most handsome men I’ve met. He calls me and we start with easy discussions, and then it started to get intimate. Never thought it would appeal to me, but he called himself Daddy and I find myself getting crazy hearing it from his soft and gentle voice, cajoling me to pleasure. It has been a great pleasure too hearing him come for me, seeing his face and his eyes lost, raptured. It was good, after all has been said and done, but what really appealed to me about him is the talks we had after. We were completely normal people, getting to know each other in a different state of friendship, and as we talk to each other, we realize how very similar we are on a lot of things, but very particularly the suffering we deal with everyday, the responsibilities on our shoulders, the things we need to do for the sake of our families.

Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. It goes by very similarly. We start with regular conversations about our day, plans for the weekend. Pleasuring each other in the middle. Long talks again after about ourselves. If I am to be honest, I see everything in his face. He tries to hide it but probably because I am very perceptive, I can definitely read everything. His face gives his heart away. I look at those eyes and I see the emotion building up, him trying to stop it, him trying to hide it. Those eyes call out to me, my psyche, my soul. He was trying to be strong and I let him be, even if I have a hunch he won’t be able to hold it for long.

Weekend passes by and we had an agreement to be careful in contacting each other, knowing that we will be in an unsafe place to speak freely. However, he wasn’t able to stop himself from sending me a message, which includes apologies for him not being attentive to me. Again, my instinct triggers that his heart is going to a place he is not ready — I realized I have to be strong for him. I started thinking of limitations, carefulness, boundaries — things I am setting for him so he can help himself, however it was so hard to not fall in the same pit as him, as again, he is one of the gentlest and most pure heart I have ever met — a heart that holds a great amount of love, but lacks courage to give it away, buried in worry and anxiety, forsaking himself over others.

The following week comes and I feel the tension rising. I hear him being more honest, slowly, with his feelings — speaking of things indirectly referencing his heart. It came to a point where he slipped and told me the three words I was hoping he won’t say. We were quite silent after that — he was in shock that he wasn’t able to hold himself, and a tension inside my heart that I see him not ready to face the truth. My heart outpours more but it breaks my heart seeing him suffering, bearing the emotion with so much guilt in his heart. I was honest and told him I do not set expectations, nor I expect any action from it. I wanted to set him free from his emotions. I was hoping that will help him, but again, I see it when we are intimate, but I was trying to be strong for him, for his sake. My resolve broke when he said,

“I wanna say it, but I am afraid. I’m really afraid. But I wanna say it so bad.”

And he said those three words again, and never stopped after.

It was a week of bliss, until it had to end, given life circumstances I had that time. We were in agreement that it won’t be the same — not the same amount of time, not the same amount of intimacy — but we will be there for each other.

However, he left. Without saying goodbye. Without an explanation.

This is the point where my perspective changed altogether.

Not too far. Not too close. Not too real.