"Why, why are you asking me to do this, you know I don't like it and don't want to!"
I sighed at my boyfriend, but deep down I couldn't blame him and wondered why I was continuing to ask him to top me. He was a bottom; he was a bottom when we met a couple of years ago; a bottom when he moved in to my place last year, and was still a bottom.
But I didn't want to always top any longer.
Still, I told myself that if my feelings and needs could change, couldn't he at least try, for me and our relationship?
I hadn't been able to top him for weeks now. I rarely came, blaming it on the new clients I had taken on for work, and he seemingly bought that. But in reality, I knew it was more than that.
Even though it was months ago, my interaction with Cami had stirred something inside me. I'd had control taken from me. I was being pursued. Ultimately pursued too hard and I was loyal to my boyfriend, but I learned something expected from those brief encounters.
That I didn't have to top to be pursued. That losing the burden of always topping was liberating and sexy.
But it also led to my bf and I having the same conversation over and over. I didn't blame him for being upset at me.
He turned over in bed, muttered something, and put his earbuds in. Clearly he'd had enough for tonite. I got out of bed and walked through the house in just my trunks, heading to the kitchen for some water and to try to at least slow down my mind.
I was the first one up and kissed him as he slept as I headed out to the office. He started later than I did, and I also thought he might appreciate some quiet time in the house.
But the more I thought about it, the more I wondered. I'd wanted us to get married, I'd wanted to put him on the mortgage. He always said what he loved about us was that we made the choice to be together every day. I always took it as romantic.
It's not like he didn't pay his fair share of the mortgage or utilities or groceries, it's just that he resisted formalizing it. It wasn't an issue before, or much of one, but now I was wondering and that's never a good place to be.
The day dragged and my bf never responded to my texts. I hoped he was just busy, but a gnawing feeling in my stomach kept re-emerging. Around 4 I left, the feeling that something was wrong was now too large to ignore.
And when I got home I realized the feeling was accurate. My boyfriend was there, sitting on the couch, seemingly waiting for me. He smiled wanly and asked me not to say anything until he was done.
He said he needed some time to think and not be with me. That while he recognized that people changed, he also knew who he was and my wanting him to top was not only disrespectful but ignored his needs and desires.
I went to say something but he stopped me.
He said he was going to stay with friends of ours in their spare bedroom for a while until he found a new place. In the meantime, he'd continue to pay his share of the mortgage and pro-rated utilities but that would end soon. He said he had moved most of his clothes and things into storage and that while he loved me, he didn't know me any longer.
And he hugged me and left.
I watched him leave and sat in the living room for a while, just staring out the window. Eventually my stomach rumbled and I heated some leftovers, ate, then fell asleep on the couch, not wanting to go into the bedroom.
I got through the next couple of days on caffeine alone. My new clients' accounts kept me busy during the day and into the evenings, but eventually I would have to go home. Every time I came home after work he'd taken a few more of his things.
I was staring at a blank spot on the mantle when my work phone buzzed. It was one of my new clients, who apologized profusely for calling after hours, but had some changes they wanted made in their copy. She suggested a coffee place not too far from my office and a time that was reasonable in the morning.
I sat down at my kitchen table and called up the copy on my laptop. The client didn't go into detail, but I wanted to have some idea what they might suggest and have options ready. By the time I was done with my notes, it was late. I pulled some pasta out of the pantry and boiled it while I chopped some vegetables and garlic.
I was still thinking about the client's work through my meal and clean-up, so I didn't notice that I was sitting on my bed, in the bedroom we used to share. I was shaken for a moment, then the tiredness hit and I slid back onto my pillows. Sleep took me quickly.
