Selotaped together relationship.

The “line” separating a human being between child and adulthood varies between the sexes. For women it is a hairline division which girls step effortlessly over and if they need some parental dependance then all they need to do is trot back to the other side. The male line is more of a 10ft stucco wall which takes huge amounts of team effort to hoist the young man over and then he spends the rest of his adult life trying to scramble back over it again!

Dare I say it but my relationship definately needs addressing.  A can happily revert between the mindstates of a ten year old and similarly a fifty year old. The status quo is non existant as he lives in this schizophrenic little world between immaturity and retirement. I see men out and about on the streets embracing life and making an adventure out fo the day. Gorgeous men, beautiful and fun men. I am only twenty-one so I should probably dump everything and start again but in our three and a half years together, we have been through a lot, it is only in the recent months that things have really turned sour between us.

Following a non-STD affiliated infection in my bits over the new year I refused to have sex because it bloody hurt! After a lot of emotional blackmail I would nearly always succumb and endure an agonising five minutes of mechanical and cold sex which had become more like masturbation than the pleasurable experience that is ought to be. This stuck for a while and I would shudder even when he touched me. Things are back to the relative norm although every time we have sex of any ind it is quantified and logged by my deprived boyfriend who then compares it to all the other weekends of our relationship and accuses me of being frigid and unenjoyable to make love to.

Harsh.

I love sex. I do! I won’t go into what I like but its not very presbeterian and yet I feel sexually deflated and tired. The months during and following my infection (which went on for longer than it should because I was too embarassed to see my GP) I hurt my boyfriend’s pride by not rolling over and panting like a porn star at the drop of a hat and the repurcussions have left me feeling (unthinkably) that I would be quite happy in our relationship if we never had sex ever again because I have not orgasmed since before Christmas!

No relationship works without sex. Not in a conventional sense at least. And the aftershock comes with every bickering fight and every mistake I make even if its as petty as forgetting to book a table for dinner. Everytime something goes wrong it is blames directly on my, my intervention, my selfishness.

And yet, after a drunken mistake last year for a lads party that I took him back after much heartache (he did break my heart and it never healed and I am still unhappy) I am determined to see through the bad times in the hopes that he changes.

I am pathetic but I do love him. How much more can I take before either one of us damages the other so irreversably that we are scarred for life and for every new relationship we ever make? Part of me wants to be single again. Part of me wants to be withhim and live with him because it will solve our problems indefinately.

Our brithdays are days apart and so to celebrate I had planned a glamarous weekend in London including swanky restaurant and show. Following a lukewarm response the new plan is a trip to a B & B in Wales to see some medieval castle. He used to be all about banter with his friends, showing me off in town and going on long 20 mile runs. He hasn’t been on a run in two years. Now his life is living with his parents, keeping me on the leash and history books.

Should I stay or should I go? Thats a rhetorical question to which anybody with half a brain could ascertain however three years of working, three years of fighting for him and three years of crying and making up. I guess I’m just waiting for an excuse he will understand but then I would miss him if he wasn’t there even if the unhappiness is mouldering away like so many genital yeast infections.

You could trace it back to the infection and my lack of sexdrive as a result. I prefer to trace it back to his moment of stupidity in Preston on Valentines Day 2007. And once again I am the stereotypichal weak woman making a victim out of myself.

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2 Responses

  1. […] in failing to communicate in our relationship. I came across a blog by Miss Scribbler the other day [Sellotaped together relationship]. She deals, in a remarkably frank way, with issues including communication, sex, and caring that […]

  2. I was really struck by how open and frank your posting was, and by the emotions you expressed. I’ve mentioned this in a posting in my own blog.

    I won’t patronise you by offering advice. You have to find your own way through this. But your post really struck a chord with me.

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