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What I’ve learned from love, sex & rejection.

*I’ve learned that just because he isn’t your guy, doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy. This is something I have to remind myself. A lot. When I’m hurt by someone I quite often amplify their negative qualities, affording me a sense of comfort after the realisation of its ‘not going to work out’ sets in.

I’ve learned that no matter how hard you try with someone, you can’t make them like you, want you or love you.

I’ve learned that as much as harbouring anger towards them may seem to make the rejection pill easier to swallow it still tastes just as bitter.

*I’ve learned that gut wrenching moment when you see him (or her) with somebody else never gets any easier. Not somebody you don’t know, not somebody new. Somebody you do know (somebody you’ve previously dated in my case.) Somebody you know isn’t in any way, shape or form able to love him as much as you could.

I’ve learned that more often than not lust & sex appeal hold more sway than how nice you are. Combined they offer more than how well I’d treat him.

*I’ve learned that despite saying how much I adore that half-smile thing he does he never really paid enough attention to notice anything like that about me.

I’ve learned that sometimes the sex is so awkward you pray for a fire to breakout.

*I’ve learned that sometimes it’s so fantastic you moan so loudly you’re worried your flat mate hears you.

I’ve learned that sometimes you headbutt each other whilst going to kiss.

I’ve learned that sometimes the condom just won’t go on.

I’ve learned that putting up with bad morning breath and the occasional  half-assed blow job really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

I’ve learned that gay sex can be the most awkward sex ever.

*I’ve learned to loathe the moment you go to kiss him as you usher him toward your front door and he turns so you catch his cheek rather than his lips.

I’ve learned that questioning myself as to ‘why it didn’t work out’ is redundant. It’s counterproductive. It just allows you to stew and boil in a pot of heartache and misery with your over-cooked thoughts.

I’ve learned that sometimes you have to tell him you’re “too drunk to cum” just so he’ll stop chewing on ‘it’ like a dog would his favourite toy.

I’ve learned faking it is often necessary.

I’ve learned that pain, all kinds of pain, is a very lonely and isolating experience. And that you can tell friends that you  feel as though the flood gates are about to open, and that you feel like you’ll never stop crying.

I’ve learned that when you try to tell them about the hurting that it feels as though there is a desert in your mouth.

I’ve learned that it isn’t always his (or her) fault. Sometimes mixing two people together is like mixing ammonia with chlorine – never a good idea.

*I’ve learned that no matter how hard he cuddled into you the day before, the next day everything can change. But that change is never discussed honestly or openly but rather found out through Snapchat, Twitter or idol gossip.

I’ve learned that sometimes it isn’t any particular parties fault – but I’ve learned that both parties could handle the fallout better.

I’ve learned that is it vital you do not over analyse things. I over analyse everything. And when I saw them together I put the pieces together in my head. My mind whipped itself into a whirlwind of continuous ‘what ifs’ that reaped havoc with my thought pattern.

*I’ve learned  that this leads too the conception of that pesky chemical that urges me to ‘stay in bed’ all day. The very same one that triggers an endless litany of questions: “Why wasn’t I good enough?”, or “I wonder what their sex is like?” “Is that what he’s doing on Sunday?”

*I’ve learned that you can’t expect him to understand when you’ve never been able to articulate how you feel out of fear of rejection.

I’ve learned that rejection feels as though 30 lbs of solid rock has just been shot into your stomach.

*I’ve learned that because he was in your bed the day before does not mean he was ever really yours.

*I’ve learned that you have to wash your bed sheets as soon as he’s slammed the door. The smell of my pillow is remnants of something that never blossomed.

I’ve learned that the pain doesn’t last forever; that you learn to heal over and smile again. That in time you find laughter is a great medicine.

I’ve learned that exercise is a good remedy for hurt and stress; that having a creative outlet helps soothe the wound.

I’ve learned that regardless if you’re 13, 30 or 46 it still stings the same. Heartache, like Death, doesn’t discriminate.

I’ve learned when it happened before it felt like it would never get better. I’ve since learned that it always does; it just takes time.

*I’ve learned that if he’s the cause of you crying twice in under a week then it’s time to call it quits – intentional or not.

And finally I’ve learned that it’s okay to be sad about it; but at the end of the day I need to learn to be the adult, respect myself and walk away. This is what love, sex and rejection has taught me. Until the next lesson.

 

 

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