Ok - let me fill you in on my weekend. As previously mentioned BB appeared mid August and we got heavily flirty, dodgy videos got sent. We made plans to meet up. Do what has been hanging over us 18 years ago. 

(18!!!! Can you believe i've been dicking about with this that long? That means possibly next year is my 20th Blog-versary? Jesus I'm getting old.....)

Lockdown happened and that did nothing to help my already fragile mental state as referred too in the other post. I had been looking forward to it very much.

Fuck it. I decided I had the day off. I'll break lockdown. Drive 143 miles one way to see him. You're allowed with the new rules to see one other person. Single people are allowed to do so... Support Bubbles and all that shit. Yes I was taking it to extreme as i'm sure they mean just visiting people down the road and you're not allowed in their houses. But I needed so, so desperately to get out of this house, to have human contact. The sex I'd been promised, that he'd built up in my head.

So I did. I went to see him. And as my life goes, it never lived up to expectations. Oh I was very careful. I don't obviously leave the house much, apart from riding and the park and I only touch my things there. I didn't go to the supermarket or shops at all in the week leading up to it. 

I had to stop at services halfway through to use the loo, I washed my hands before leaving the car, I only opened the doors using elbows etc, once through the door, I washed them again. I washed them before using the loo, after, before touching the pads when ordering a cheeky macdonalds, (my first since Feb!) once they gave me the food. before leaving services, when eating in my car. I wore my mask. I was as careful and confident as I can be that I took all precautions.

I got to his late, and we hung out in his hot tub, catching up, and yeah, things started to go the way we planned.

He remembers, bless him, how worried and naïve about it all I was, tried to reassure me, although I don't need it any more.... Things were moving on.... His cat got into a fight or something outside and he went to rescue it.... Stopped the mood a bit. Came back and I tried to instigate things again but yeah, it was dead.

We went to bed and things got moving again... but he wasn't fully ready (trying very hard not to be too crude here!!!) He told me he had too much to drink while waiting for me. We cuddled and went to sleep.

Oh God! It was so nice just to be held and kissed and to feel wanted. I didn't need to hold back, not like with FWB. Didn't need to keep my guard up, make sure that I didn't fall. We slipped back into how it was before. Even just cuddling in the morning and during the day, nothing sexual. Just felt wanted for the first time in ages, how much I missed human contact.

His cat kept getting in the way. That bloody animal knew exactly what he was doing. It was funny, and even funny in the morning when we tried again and failed.

We sat and watched TV and in the afternoon I tried to start things up again and we went back upstairs.

"I'm sorry.... I can't... I've not been able to for ages."

I was drunk. I rolled over and went to sleep. I woke up and cried. Just like being in my early 20's again and crying on his shoulder because I was so scared of the future. So sure it was my fault, that he was making excuses for me, that I was broken. That he regretted me being here. That trying to live up to an 18 year old fantasy was so bloody stupid.

He asked me if I was allergic to the cat.

Sunday morning and I didn't have the heart to try again. I just got up, counted down the minutes until I could bolt for freedom, having made plans to go see H2 before driving home.

 I apologised when I got home. He tells me its not my fault. That I did nothing wrong, but I find it so hard to believe. I know its a man thing and pride when it doesn't work but I thought he knew me better than that. That he must have slept with other girls, he hasn't been in a long term relationship for 8 years but he'd had other girls. He must have. 

And I'm so goddamn frustrated that I broke all the rules, went under false pretences and here I am again.

It was a one off. He is too far for it to be a regular thing and to try again, even if I was ready to be humiliated again. I was struggling to get away even before, too many commitments. He's sweet and kind but ever so slightly racist and transphobic and I can't be doing with that shit. 

It was nice to get away, to kinda feel wanted, to spend 24 hours staring at a screen in a completely different environment. To catch up with an old friend, to see H2, even if only briefly as I had to get back to the yard for the horse by 3. 

So here we are again. Slightly refreshed by my weekend away, slightly still mentally broken and adding this trauma onto my list of mental woes. And I've been writing this since 9. Its time I started work.....