"We have to talk." A serious tone from Dandy, sat on the end of the bed, beckoning for me to sit with him.
Well that's the end of that then. Because no-one begins a conversation with those four words and ever intends anything other than having to let someone down, no matter how gently. Precursors of bad news just as going for a coffee means remembering to buy condoms on your way there. We talked anyway, because that's just what you do, as if the reasoning behind the decision is in someway going to make anything any better, on either side of the break. Ultimately, when one person decides they don't want to carry on, there's not a lot of point in saying "stay". As it happens, he stayed the night, and we fucked and I had a dog for one more day which was more than my due, but come the morning the decision was still the same. The details aren't important, the result is what matters. And the result is that I don't have him any more.
I feel angry and disappointed, much more so than upset. Possibly because the coldly rational part of my brain (small, but nevertheless there) was prepared for this eventuality following the last time this happened. I suppose that knowing what I did about how he felt for someone else, I didn't trust him enough to let my nascent feelings develop into anything more than a strong sense of possession. But within that possession there were many other things besides. I enjoyed his company, he made me happy, and proud. We held hands, lapped up joint compliments - oh yes we looked good together and didn't we just know it? I liked having messages each day, of little things of no consequence, but reminders all the same. A kiss upon waking and going to sleep. Missing him and being missed in return. Being part of something, meaning something to someone, in whatever small way.
I'm disappointed that it ended, though not surprised. I'd be lying if I said that I expected this to happen - I wouldn't have agreed to the D/s set up if I thought it was doomed to fail, and certainly I hoped that with time his feelings for her would diminish and he would come into himself again. I still do, because with or without me he's got that to deal with. And I've been in that place where the unrequited, unfulfilled emotions you have for someone you can't have cause you to do harm to those that do want to come near. It's not a nice place and it makes you ugly and difficult. I don't envy him. I'm not without sympathy, but I'm also not without self-awareness so right now I'm staying clear. Especially because I am angry.
I'm angry at him for making what I (naturally) consider to be the wrong decision. I consider the situation as manifestly unfair. It's a quiet anger, reduced from yesterday where I was sorely missing something to punch. Part is frustration at having got so far and then be denied just when things seemed to be going so well. Part is the knee-jerk growl at having that which is mine taken away. Most of it is a kind of "oh, for fuck's sake" exasperation. My hands thrown up in the air as I stalk back to the drawing board, back to the dating sites and back to the list of what I want.
The interesting thing is what I'm not feeling. I'm fed up but not upset, I haven't cried and I certainly don't blame myself because I'm damn sure I didn't put a foot wrong and that if anyone is at fault, it is not me. I had a lot of fun and I'm sad that it ended, but I have no regrets. I absolutely would have made the same decision again if I went back in time and was faced with the question of whether the take him back for the second time. Not a third time though. It was a great ride, but I'm done with that merry-go-round.