I miss passion.
Right before my husband and I got back together (before we were married…we had a pretty bad split), there was this man that walked into the gym I worked at.
Only one other time had I felt that so instantly. Like the electricity in the air was moving between us. My entire body wanted to walk to him lick his neck, nibble over his chin, and bite his bottom lip. Climb on top of him.
I felt like he could have been a god. The god that was meant for me. We would have looked beautiful standing next to eachother. I think our sex would have been spiritual. Tantric.
For weeks he would come in, once a week. Same day. Same time. I almost couldn’t bare it. I couldn’t look away from him, but I couldn’t not look at him either. It tortured me. It obsessed my body.
We only made eye contact once. He smiled at me in a moment where he caught me smiling at something else.
Other than that, I have no idea if he even knew I was alive. How could he not feel what I was feeling, though? We were meant to know eachother. It felt to me like our souls must already know eachother.
Then one day, after about 4-5 months, he was gone.
During this time, my now husband and I had begun talking again… Possibly to work things out. Who really knows.
It all started when my cat, who lived at his house for the time, caught fleas from the squirrels under the deck. She infested the basement (thank God, only the basement). I had to go help rid the house and my cat of fleas.
During the time he and I were split, I was having a lot of fun. Even met a couple guys. Flirted. Partied. Enjoyed having my own time to myself so much. I always hated that “answering to someone” feeling. I just wanted to live and do what I wanted. I loved just being free. Relaxing. Hanging out.
After the flea incident, we had started chit chatting on the phone here n there.
In my heart though, that little voice which is me, told me, “it’s over.” “This is not the right path for your life. This is not the right man. He’s sweet. But this isn’t right.”
I knew she was there talking to me, but I spent so long learning to shut her up, it became automatic.
I couldn’t really just do what was right for me. What I wanted. I had to consider everyone. How they would feel. How my decisions would affect their lives.
Even if no one really seemed to return this favor.
Looking back now, I know it was guilt and feeling bad for him which pulled us together, not my desire to be with him.
One day, in a grand gesture, my now husband showed up at my house. It was a stressful morning, rushing around for a meeting an hour from my home.
In his usual fashion, he completly failed to notice what I was doing or going through in this moment. He insisted on proclaiming his undying love for me. It was all so clear to him now. He had to rush over to tell me.
I was taken back. That little voice was saying, ” NO…. Run, don’t get pulled back in, you’re almost free.”
I told him I was in a rush. I’d call him on my drive to the meeting.
We were on the phone nearly an hour. By the time I got close to the meeting, I had this fear start gripping me. This, what I know know as, “impending doom,” feeling.
I pulled over on the side of the road, he tried to calm me down. Walk me through it. I had NO idea what was happening or why or what caused it. In my mind, it was in no way related to what was happening with him and my inner voice.
I thought I was dying. I felt I was going to die. Something was going to kill me.
I pulled ot together enough to make it to my meeting. Sitting there, I started having chest pains and this weird feeling in my brain, almost like cockroaches were crawling around in there.
Of course this all freaked me out. I though, maybe I’m having a stroke.
My work partner noticed, asked if he should call an ambulance. To my surprise, I answered, “yes.”
I never go to the doctor, let alone a hospital! Of course it was this big scene. And this really hot guy, who had been flirting with me on occasion for the past couple months heard the EMT ask about my poop that day and if there was anything strange about it! OMG.
I ended up at the hospital, where I was told I was having a panic attack. Of course, my now husband showed up there too. The doctor told me to breathe into a bag if that ever happened again, and then sent me a $3000 bill. OMG seriously?
I went home, and my then ex, now husband never really went away. Never gave me space or room or time to think through anything. Never asked me if we wanted to get back together. Just kind of assumed we were. I never said different.
The anxiety didn’t stop. It got to the point I couldn’t drive. Couldn’t work. Couldn’t focus.
I finally went to a psychiatrist, he prescribed xanax. .25 mg in the am and pm.
I took it. It helped. It numbed the feeling of panic.
Then, I kept drinking. That numbed me more.
I had a lot of anger and hate inside. I never got addicted to the xanax, but couldn’t stop the drinking.
I realized I was an alcoholic, but didn’t want to admit it. It was pretty bad.
I was functional though, till, I wasn’t.
Anyway, at some point in all of this, Zeus, my nick name for the guy who disappeared, showed back up at the gym, this time with a woman, I later found out was his ex. He looked like shit. He looked like I felt. His eyes were souless like mine.
This time, I knew he knew that I knew. Because, I knew that he knew me too.
It was too late. Our moment, our opportunity was gone.
We both knew it. We both regretted it.
I still think about him, 5 years later. I don’t know if he has ever thought of me again.
I emailed him once, a week before my wedding.
I did a little digging, found out he was a masseuse. I emailed asking for an appointment. Then casually dropped that I recognized him from the gym.
We emailed back and forth a bit, and in all honesty, he was almost begging me to come for a massage. He knew who I was. I am pretty sure he wanted the same thing I did.
I was the thinnest and most beautiful I had ever been in my life. I wanted to know what his hands felt like on my body.
In the end, I stated that I was attracted to him, and it would make me uncomfortable. At that point, he stopped emailing.
In reality, I was afraid. I was afraid I would go for this massage and end up making love on the table with a strange man days before my wedding.
I wish I had gone.
I miss the feeling of my skin burning for someone. Craving them. Being frantic. Ready to orgasm before he’s even inside.
Maybe, all of this was in my head. Maybe, he just wanted a new client. Maybe, maybe, maybe….not.