When I first began writing “IT’S IN HIS KISS,” I compared my Ex with my current husband in each paragraph, because the differences are so great, mind boggling, really. As I got into writing it, I got this bad feeling inside because anything I write about my wonderful Husband, Jay, should not be dragged down by any mention of my Ex. Just talking about both of them in the same sentence gave me a most uncomfortable vibe. Jay deserved a piece all his own, in all his glory, because he is my perfect match, my perfect man, and I love everything he is and does. I could not bear to taint it with any “comparisons” to my Ex. He deserves so much more.
So here is a separate piece about my Ex, to illustrate just “some” of the reasons that he is just that… My EX.
All I ever knew was life with Mr. X. A life of giving… giving of myself in so many ways that I didn’t even know who I was inside. Ironically, he was so proud of himself for making me who I was (guiding me from my teen years), yet he had no idea that I’d become only a shell of a person, and not ME at all.
When I might be feeling under the weather… Mr. X would still expect me to take care of everything and everyone, as well as myself. No time for me to rest and get well, just keep taking care of myself and our home and family. Yet, on the flip side, if he was ill, the world had to stop turning so I could take care of him. Now I look back and wonder WHY this surprised me.
Watching TV, and if I happened to doze off for a bit … Mr. X would yell at me to wake up (startling me to death) and be in a bad mood the rest of the night because he assumed he would not get any sex. No compassion that I might be tired from taking care of our children and home, or working a full time job, as well. If he had half a brain, he might think that those couple winks could give me the recharge I needed… but NO.
When it was my turn to be pleasured… Mr. X would get frustrated and take it personally if he couldn’t bring me to orgasm quickly, and to his expectations. This only made it MORE difficult for me to reach climax because I was more worried about his feelings than my own pleasure… so backwards. I am not a selfish person at all, but isn’t that moment SUPPOSED to be about me?
When I was giving pleasure… Mr. X treated me like it was my job and responsibility to take care of him and it was never often enough or good enough. He spent more time complaining about it, that it only made me want to do it LESS. An adult man that pouts about not getting his way is NOT attractive.
Sex… with Mr. X it was mechanical and a “job.” Something I dreaded and couldn’t wait for it to be over and done. He was not happy unless I was talking dirty, making up some naughty story to keep it “edgy” enough for him. He never talked about what we were doing and how much THAT might be turning him on. I felt like I was a body for him to do what he wanted, but that he always wanted more, or someone/something else… being with me was never enough. Eye contact was rare, and felt like an awkward pause. No connection between us, just a blank stare. No fun or spark at all.
Doing the smallest or biggest favors… Mr. X would “expect” me to do everything for him, and if he “asked” me to do something for him, if I forgot or didn’t do it in the time frame that he expected, he would get upset with me, and let me know how disrespectful I was. At the same time, he never had time to do me any favors. If he did decide to do something for me, and forgot or ran out of time… all was to be forgiven without a blink of an eye. The double standards were endless.
Errands and chores… Mr. X always needed and expected my help with any repair around the house or in the garage, which I was always happy to give, but any job I had to do around the house was on my own with no help from him at all. Then when my chores didn’t get completed, he complained how I didn’t take care of the house. I guess I was supposed to just do it ALL.
Holding Hands … Mr. X would not hold my hand, barely ever. It was only if I initiated it, and then it was very short lived. He always felt it was too inconvenient, too cumbersome for him to move around freely, or who really knows why. Talk about walking around like strangers… yikes.
I always longed for a kiss… a “real” kiss. Even after long talks and asking for it many times over (can’t believe I had to, but I did) I just wanted to receive a loving kiss. I never wanted it to be one sided, so I made sure I did my part and initiated more kisses, making them slow and loving… but all I ever got was a “peck” in return. He might reciprocate once or twice after I requested it, but that felt forced and fake, never like he actually WANTED to be kissing me. Passion = ZERO
It “IS” in his kiss, or in my case with Mr. X, it was NOT … there was definitely NO love in his KISS (or anything that he did)..!!!
His kisses told me… he was not in love with me … why am I here? … why have I given myself to this man for most of my life? … our “love” was convenient for him, as I was there to “take care” of him, in every sense. SO DRAINING (to my core). Love should be fulfilling, not draining.
It took me far too many years to realize that I deserved to BE ME, and have my HEART FULFILLED.
… and THAT is why he is Mr. X, no longer draining the life out of me.