Many, many mixed feelings.

Wonderful, great day, Saturday. We had a great time at the cabin, at the restaurant, at the park, on the drive, on the ferry, at his house. The sun was out, the air crispy, lots of cuddling, kissing, touching, both affectionate and erotic. Great music. An all around perfect day. Sunday morning was nice too. In the morning he brought out his guitar and played and sang. I enjoyed it immensely but as he’s playing and singing and I’m listening to the gorgeous sounds of his guitar, not just his playing but really the tone of the instrument itself, I start thinking about not having a violin and moved into wasting my time with this blog when I should be writing a book and I just start crying. I’ve got this pillow on my chest and I think he can’t see or tell but I was wrong. “Are you okay?” he asks. Just having a moment I respond, wishing I had my violin back, I can never replace it’s dulcet tones.

We’re at M.’s home after the long drive and we’re kissing and into heavy petting on the floor when his cat gaks on my purse. And then when we’re on the bed with the second cat gakking on the floor.  He’s worried about his cat and yet, well, we were busy.

In the middle of things I look into his eyes I hear in my head “Oh my god, this was a mistake.” And I’ve been struggling with my feelings ever since. As I’m laying there trying to fall asleep or at least rest well, I feel a very strong urge to go home. NOW. And know that it would upset M., he’d at least worry about me a bit. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to be there with him but that I had so much to process and I needed a good night sleep. I stayed.

But it has to be more than that. Clearly I’ve been very emotional the past few weeks and even months. Tears are always close to the surface. And I think that the emotional nature of sex for me busted the damn.

On the drive home, I left earlier than I had to, the thought of suicide jumped into my head for like the dozenth time in the last month. I’m so overwhelmed, so sad. It wasn’t too soon necessarily, I don’t think it’s that. It’s just too much to process, too many conflicting emotions all at once about all aspects of my life. Nothing is settled, nothing is safe. With one exception. My bedroom with Miss Mitty. I feel safe and protected here. I need some stability desperately, a little breathing room.

Will John’s gift/loan of money by the end of the month give me that? Will I get enough breathing room to be able to handle the rest of my life?

Today after a really good cry and a chat with my sister in law, I feel better.  It wasn’t a mistake, I feel the same as before about Chris. But like him, I need a bit of adjustment time, I need to see him again and experience what that feels like, and I need time to get my life a little more in order before I can relax some more and stop all the blasted crying.

Jeesh.  I’ve left him a voicemail asking to get together for a brief chat about the weekend, to share perhaps our confusion.  I want to share with him that I’m in a weird place right now, unexpected tears at any moment. That it isn’t about him but about my situation, the instability.  The trying to hold it together for so long and the sex being the act that pulled the finger out of the dam of my emotions.  Floodgates.

Hope he calls to set a time.