So I was reading a whole heap of stuff I wrote from when we first got together- or rather, when the physical aspect of our relationship exploded into the sexual insanity I have only experienced with you and Melbourne Boy (at separate times, obviously).
I mean, of course you were in love with me, I was such an idiot not to have seen that earlier. (seriously, you only have to read half of what you did for me in the 2 years before, let alone the 6 months prior to go 'D'uh!')
Of course, being my boyfriend you would want to please me sexually, that's what people do
Of course, being so paranoid about how I felt and me leaving you, you mistook my lack of experience and associated caution for reluctance.
Of course, being so fucked up you didn't handle hurting me (by accident) well and blamed yourself so much you couldn't even look at me afterwards.
Of course, me being me, and completely inexperienced to boot, I blamed myself.
Of course, me and my past prevented me from telling you the truth before we actually had sex. The fear of rejection was just too great. And my pride was too great after.
And I don't know, maybe it's just time, or temporary insanity, but reading it all and thinking all of this has actually left me with a sense of hope, rather than despair.
It really wasn't my fault, it was just a shitty set of circumstances that didn't help an already complicated situation. And I realised that just because it didn't work with you, doesn't mean it won't work with someone else- I think it would have been fine with Melbourne Boy, or Matt #2 for instance- and I know enough now to do my best to ensure that it will.
I'm not some panicky, anxious bundle of neuroses in a completely new and terrifying situation, where I have no idea what to expect.
I know what to expect next time and some idea of what to do, or at least measures to put in place to give it a better chance of not being such a complete and utter disaster.
I also know that, should I get another chance with someone that actually makes me want to, I will take it. I passed it up twice and seriously regret that (although with Matt #2, I really was in no emotional state to go through with it, so I can let that one go).
But most of all I know it was crazy to put that amount of pressure on myself and that much emphasis on what was really one small piece of our very complicated relationship.
I shouldn't have allowed myself to believe that sex would keep you from cheating, or treating me like dirt, or leaving, because only you had the power over your own actions. (As demonstrated by the fact two of those three things happened anyway!)
I should never have sacrificed my body to the hopeless cause of keeping you, that was ridiculously stupid. I know now that I will never, ever do that to myself again.
Next time, it will be for me, not because I feel like I owe it to someone, or because I want to show how much I love them, but simply because I WANT to.
And hopefully next time I won't be afraid. I don't want that one shitty experience to ruin my entire sexual future. I refuse to let you, or my asshole father have that much influence.
At the very least, next time, I won't let fear of what happened last time to stop me. Hell, if I can move to another country without any help, or support, sex should be a piece of cake.
In short, I refuse to let you (or him) ruin me. Someone, somewhere wants me and will make me want him back.
And that person is not you. It never was.