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Insanity. Instability. And love.

This week was meant to be court week.

The week where we got to finally have our say and put the arsehole who raped my friend behind bars. Or at least deported out of the country.

But it’s been postponed. Again.

This weekend had been hard. It was emotionally tough. And poor Cern tried to break through to me on multiple occasions and I didn’t know how to let him in.

Except on Sunday night. The night before all hell was going to break loose. I couldn’t sleep. Even wrapped in his arms I felt restless. Adrift. Alone. I’d walled myself in and as much as I wanted to kick down the walls because I was suffocating I had no idea how to let myself out. I could hear him knocking. But it sounded like he was miles away.

Fear. Anxiety. Depression. Fear.

Fear is such a huge catalyst. The thought that both my friend and I have to go through this again in 3 months terrifies me. That I know it’s for the best and that it’s what he deserves doesn’t lessen the burden of fear. Fear for my friends sanity of having to relieve her rape again and again for 2 years. The fear that this fucking thing will never go away. The fear that she won’t cope and because I’m so emotionally retarded that I won’t be able to help her. Fear that we’d fail. Fear in knowing how often rape cases go to court and the outcomes. Fear that because it was his word against hers and that she’d had a few drinks that night it would mean it’s her fault. Fear that no matter what we said and how we told the truth, that he’d win.

Try as I might I couldn’t verbalise any of it. I couldn’t let it out. For the first time ever I turned from him in the hopes of being able to breathe instead of feeling like I was drowning. I wanted to be in his arms yet felt suffocated when I was. Not because of him, not because of us, but because I was breaking. And to top it off I felt like I was competing for his time with his phone – when I tried to turn over he shut down whatever he was doing and it just made me withdraw more. It felt like he was hiding things from me and that just puts me into a state where I just can’t. I’ve been there, I’ve done that. It was disastrous and to be honest it makes me emotionally wall off even more.

I have a stupid habit of playing my cards close to my chest. It’s how I’ve always been, I’ve never really had anyone else to lean on. So when Cern keeps telling me that I have him I don’t know how to respond. Do I really? Does anyone ever really have anyone to depend on other than themselves? Every single time I’ve reached out my hand has been bitten off. I’m weary. Yet I’m tired. I’m tired of being the strong one. Of keeping it together. I’m just bone weary tired.

So he put his phone down and tried to get me to talk. Repeatedly. The man has the patience of a saint. And for that I’m grateful. Because I was crying on the inside. I was flooding and drowning and I couldn’t talk to him even after he requested I did time and time again.

And then it happened as he touched my arm and moved closer to me. My walls cracked. And as he held me and rolled me on top of him I sobbed great big ugly heaving sobs, he rubbed my back, patted my hair, kissed my wet face and told me over and over again that he’s not letting me go. That I can lean on him and let it out. And I did. I flopped on top of him not caring a wit if I was crushing him and I cried until I felt like I couldn’t cry any more. Except there’s always more tears aren’t there? There are tears and there’s that ugly crying face, which thankfully he didn’t see much of because the room was dark.

And as I cried he explained to me why he loved me. Why I meant so much to him. How I’m now his family and that I don’t have to do things on my own any more. He told me how much his kids loved me and that I was an amazing person. Even as I sobbed that I didn’t want to be me any more, it was too hard. He held me closer as he whispered in my ear about how much I’ve changed & strengthened him and how much love I’ve given him – how he’s never had anyone else treat him like an equal before and how much that means to him. How much I mean to him. And the more he talked the more I cried.

Until he said something like “I told you that I’d make you cry tonight” and I started laughing. Needless to say that sitting up on top of him so I could try to get my snot and tears under control turned into him telling me to not do that because it was hot and he might not be able to control himself. Which then prompted me to move my hips as I felt him get harder under me. There’s something quite powerful about it. Knowing I was covered in snot and tears and yet he still found me arousing. How could I stop now? I continued to grind, wiggle and move against him before he had me on my back and was licking and sucking on my nipples as I asked him to stop. He looked at me confused to which I replied that I just wanted to feel him inside me. Bless him, he obliged.

And honestly? It was blissful. It was sweet, it was soft and it was hot. Especially the bit where I could actually feel him getting bigger towards the end. It’s intoxicating. And when he gets that big I can feel him come deep inside me and it makes me spontaneously orgasm with him. Chain reactions. I didn’t want to disengage from him in that moment. I could have stayed connected for a lifetime. And I felt centred again. I felt connected to him again and all the anxiety, the doubts, the fears receded. I felt all that he had said and more in those moments. I relaxed and I can’t even remember how or when I fell asleep. Only that I knew that sleep was restful being wrapped in him.

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He holds onto me so tightly.

So when we got word the day after that it was all postponed again, along with the anxiety and anguish that we have to go through all this again in 3 months came the calm knowledge that maybe next time won’t be as hard and that I’m honestly blessed with Cern. I’m still keeping him.

16

Displaced emotions

Do you ever cry over the fact that you don’t have disinfectant to mop the floors with?

This happened to me yesterday.

I cried over the fact that I couldn’t clean.

And not just a few tears, we’re talking outright sobbing.

Was I having a mental moment? Possibly, I believe so. But I think I was also having a moment where everything got too much and that burden you carry around every day just got too heavy and I got squashed.

Into a puddle of tears.

Reason number 1: I realised yesterday that for some reason I’m not going to be able to do my 3rd subject that I took on because they want me to be there this week.

Reason number 2: When I’m already going up on Sunday morning for a week to do my Chemistry and ecology for a whole week.

Reason number 3: Being that I barely have 3 days of leave saved up since getting back from holidays I was stretching myself thin to do the week as it was.

Reason number 4: Add onto the fact that I get back on Sunday and the court case starts the Monday after which also means that I won’t be at work and not getting paid… Stress on top of stress makes me an emotional wreck apparently.

Reason number 5: I was feeling about as lovable as a slug across the path while you’re walking barefoot due to recent relationship breakdown and subsequent feelings of inadequacy and/or disappointment that I wasn’t worth the effort.

So I cried over my mop bucket.

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Travelling trauma – How Austin brought out my drama queen.

Just before leaving San Antonio I booked online through Expedia a room. A room in a hotel. That had advertised that it was close to Austin city and affordable. Read cheap.

Where do I sign up?

And you know how it’s a good thing to be frugal on your travels and booking hotel rooms right? Right.

I hop on the greyhound in San Antonio and gleefully enjoy the 1 hour drive to Austin. I do love short bus rides. No really it means that there is no strange just-out-of-jail men wanting to grope my boobs at 3am.

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