Disappointments and embarrassments

I’d had a lovely weekend with J, and started the week really looking forward to the evening with S that we’d planned two weeks ago. But as the week unfolded one event after another seemed to dent my confidence and enthusiasm. Thursday seemed to arrive in a flash, and with such a lot of questions and things going on, I left the office feeling drained and exhausted and without my usual tingles of anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see S, in fact as I sat in the cab on the way to our normal restaurant, I was actually wanting someone to talk to and confide in, but I just knew I wasn’t feeling in the sort of mood that he would want me to be in.

The staff at our Italian know us so well now . . . I’m sure they assume us to be a local couple enjoying a regular meal out . . . we had our usual table, and our usual bottle of white. I know I spent the entire meal gushing out all my troubles and uncertainties of the past few days. S is such a good listener . . . and such a good friend . . . and it was just so relieving to be able to pour it all out. Of course, I’d had the same ramblings and discussions at home with J over the past two evenings (and mornings), but it is different . . . and somehow, sometimes, more rewarding . . . to talk about things with somebody other than those closest to you. Just having someone else to confide in, and ask advice of, seems to make things (if only temporarily, or for a short time) clearer and less worrying and less of a burden.

We both picked at our meal, and seemingly without noticing, I had emptied the whole bottle of wine . . . S was driving and laughingly offered me his only half-sipped-at glass that he’d started the meal with. As we walked arm-in-arm to his car I remember apologising that I was “a little tipsy”. As we walked into our room I began undressing immediately and pulling back the bed covers. S followed me across the room and asked if I didn’t want to shower first. I remember telling him I needed “cuddles and just want you to talk to me more and tell me what I should do” . . .

. . . I slept for two hours. He’d initially tried to stop me dozing-off and stroking and shaking me, but I’d sworn at him and insisted he just “cuddle me”. Apparently I told him I wasn’t “a machine” and “can’t be switched on and off at will”. Embarrassingly, I can’t remember saying any of these things, but J told me later I’ve often said exactly the same things to him !!!

I CAN remember feeling that refreshing, relaxing, starched-clean feeling you get from laying down on fresh-hotel-sheets. And I can remember feeling his stroking hands on my back and shoulders, and hearing his soft whispering voice behind me.

When I woke-up I felt that sudden embarrassment and panic that I’d made a fool of myself and let him down again (I’d once done something similar with him before). I snuggled into him and kissed his chest and then up to kiss him as passionately as I could, whispering my apologies and reaching down to stroke his willy. But he was quite soft, and although returning my kisses, told me it was late and we had to be going home . . .

We travelled home with me trying to break the awkward silences by repeating my apologies and with him responding that he wasn’t upset, and knew that I’d had a lot on my mind. We parked on the corner . . . I told him I didn’t want to get out. He laughed and said “we can hardly go back now can we”. I felt myself getting upset and tearful, worried that, despite his assurances to the contrary, perhaps he really was as annoyed as I felt he had every right to be. I was kissing him again and apologising still when he reminded me where we were. He shook me by my shoulders telling me again that he wasn’t upset. Then, as if to further re-assure me, he started saying things that we’d always agreed we could never say to each other. I had to put my hand over his mouth to stop him . . . I got out telling him I would call him, looking back through the window, knowing we couldn’t speak until the morning on our way to work, knowing as well . . . as I walked along the pavement to my door . . . that sitting on a bus, talking into a mobile, just wasn’t going to be how I wanted to have a conversation.

I walked into the front room to find J waiting for me, in his usual place, naked on the sofa . . . he could tell straight away though that I wasn’t in the mood I would normally be on returning from an “evening out”. I ended the evening as I’d begun it, cuddling in my man’s arms, but this time worrying about how I’d let S down, how he’d booked a meal and a room and all he’d been rewarded with was me off-loading all my office problems . . . and then falling into a deep sleep!!!

Even though it is half-term for the schools and much less traffic, the journey into work yesterday morning seemed to take forever. I was holding my phone in my hand for the whole journey waiting for it to ring. It wasn’t until I had gotten off the bus and was walking along the street that he finally called. I stepped into a doorway, gushing out how happy I was to hear his voice, refusing his claims that I hadn’t “let him down” and promising him over and over that “I’ll make it up I promise . . . !!!”