Talking about my ex lately has led to me contemplating on our past when we were romantically involved for nearly four years. We met when we were both 24 at some bar and grill we were both regulars at, each attending with our own group of friends. We has mingled with off and of for about two weeks before he asked if he could get my number and go out somewhere more classy sometime. We hit it off from there and before you know it we were dating for a few years.

I have a lot of pleasant experiences with him. We were both quite different as far as personal hobbies go, but he was always very sweet and good-natured. A true gentleman, not something you find in every man. There were plenty downs as there were ups like any relationship, but we enjoyed being together while it lasted. The talk of moving in together even came up at times, but it's probably good that it never came to that considering it had ended.

As for why it ended, I suppose it lied mostly with me losing affinity toward him. That's the short answer. The long answer is I was never really in love with him and I don't think I could have been, even if I might have told him I loved him. Some time before we had ended it, I found it being less fun to be around him. This is a crude way to put it, but for lack of a better way I can think at the moment, I simply got over him. He told me had sensed this for some time, we talked it over and agreed that it was probably best if we parted ways, so we did.

While we never actually discussed this, I think our sex life played a part as well. Like I've stated several times before in previous entries, I've never been a sexual person. Whenever we would have sex, he always was the one who initiated it. I would go along with it and even enjoy it, but I was never big on it. I didn't yearn for any sexual fulfillment with him. Sure I found him good-looking, but I guess I was never truly sexually attracted to him. He sensed this as well and would ask me if I had enjoyed sex. I never not enjoyed it, so I feel I was always honest. But in hindsight, I could have been more clear about not being all that into sex too.

Now we're back together, but just as friends. Perhaps even as close friends. In my last entry, I talked about enjoying his company and enjoying his touch but not in a sexual way. When we would be together, he always liked being physically affectionate with me, which I really liked as well. Hugging and caressing me; cuddling, as it were. Even his little quirks with paying attention to certain parts of my body I enjoyed enough to probably let him do it again. As weird as they tended to be, they were sort of guilty pleasures of mine.

It would be great if we could have all of those close moments again but have it be strictly as close friends without any romantic or sexual affiliation whatsoever. But I already know that's not realistic or just plain asking too much, especially since some of those touches he enjoyed doing would get him aroused before. Those are my thoughts anyway.

We ended up talking about my ex in the last session. I almost wanted to laugh when I first brought it up since it’s a far cry from my trauma of being molested, but like my therapist said, I’m there to talk whatever issues are on my mind. My only issue on my current relationship with my ex being that I really enjoy his company. More than that - I enjoy his touch, even. I’ve been letting him get away with some touches I wouldn’t let anyone else, least of all a man. Nothing overtly suggestive or flirty. Things like hugging me, putting a hand on my shoulder, stuff that’s purely platonic… But he could probably start doing some blatantly flirtatious touching and I wouldn’t mind in the least!

Despite how all of this may sound, me enjoying his presence so much that I actually like him putting his hands on me, I maintain that there is still no romantic or sexual appeal to it at all. I just enjoy physical affection from him. And that’s where my issue lies. Naturally, I’m concerned about sending him mixed signals and don’t want him to think I want to enter a romantic relationship with him again. Which, of course, can be very confusing if I start letting him get away with touching me in a flirtatious manner. Plus, while I may not be attracted to him any longer, I know he still finds me attractive, so him pressing his luck to make romantic advances could very well be inevitable.

I ended up joking with my therapist that if only he was gay so I wouldn’t have to worry about this, and I never joke. My therapist noted that she’s never seen me like this before and that I really seem like I’m happy in my relationship with him. She also didn’t find my situation bizarre at all. She said she’s known people who developed deep romantic attractions toward someone but had virtually no interest in any of the physical stuff, not so much as a kiss. That helped me feel a little better. But she shared my concerns with sending my ex mixed signals and advised me that I should talk to him about this soon and make it perfectly clear to him, even if it may be confusing for him because, simply put: he’s a male. My therapist pretty much hinted at this herself.

That may be a bit of an awkward discussion to have with him, telling him I enjoy him touching me but to not get any funny ideas because I still only want to be friends. It needs to be done, though. I do think he’s a bright enough gentleman that he’ll understand in the end. Guess we’ll see if he really is soon enough.

In my last two entries, I've been reflecting on how I'm always haunted by memories of being molested by my dad either from when I was 8-12 or 13-15, never memories from either period at once. I've talked it over with my therapist and she explained it's likely because I was going through two entirely different mindsets during each period because with one, I was enjoying it and with the other, I wasn't. I've been thinking on when exactly did I stop enjoying it and thus, ditto the title of this entry.

When I was 13, I sat in on a conversation among my friends talking about how awesome their dads were and that really opened my eyes to the reality of my situation: I was being molested by my dad and had been for years. As I've stated several times before, I always had the idea in the back of my mind that what my dad was doing to me wasn't right, but that day I overheard my friends talking about their normal relationships with their dads led to me having an epiphany. I remember that day was in January, right after winter break in school. During winter break, my dad it to me once and that's the last time I remember enjoying it.

For whatever reason, my dad had stopped doing it once a week like he had been doing for years. Now it was once every other week or every two weeks. He even went over a month without doing it a few times. I think this time he had gone two weeks or so before he did it again one night. I was in my bathroom brushing my teeth, getting ready for bed when my dad came in and told me "I can put you to bed tonight." I knew what that meant as that's what he called it when he'd give me oral right before bed. As much I still hate to admit it, I became eager about it since it had been two weeks since he last did it and I wanted him to make me feel good in the way he did again.

I asked him "What about mom?" I do out of concern that she might overhear us and walk in on it, which I didn't want to happen. My dad tells me "She's been out for a while," meaning she had been asleep for some time. The tone he uses is very nonchalant, indicating I don't need to worry. He tells me to go ahead and finish getting ready, to which I do so in a hurry. When I go to my bedroom, he asks if I'm ready, to which I give a quick "Yeah," before dropping my bottoms and getting into position for him. After I have my orgasm, he tells me goodnight, I say goodnight back and fall asleep quickly, feeling happy like I always would when he would go down on me before bed.

That was the last time that I can remember when I enjoyed it. Two weeks after, the aforementioned conversation between my friends took place and I finally became wiser to what was happening to me. Two weeks after that, he did it to me once again and that was the first time he did it when I was no longer enjoying it. I regret to say I don't remember a whole lot from that time. I only remember we were home alone with my mom out grocery shopping and he told me to get on the couch. I do so, of course, but for the first time, out of fear and not because I want him to. I became completely quiet from then on. When I would speak, it was answering my dad with brief responses.

I don't remember exactly when he started noticing my complete change in demeanor, but I'm pretty sure he did because I remember him asking me if I was okay. I would lie and say I was, but I wasn't and just too scared to say it. I don't know when he figured it out but I know he knew I wasn't liking it anymore, but he never really asked me. Probably out of fear that I would be honest and tell him I didn't want him to do that to me anymore and as I've stated in previous entries, I believe, in his mind, he needed me to be willing in order for him to get off on it too and would just convince himself that I was because I would still let him do it.

Anyway, I covered what happened from then on in previous entries, so I can say the rest is history at this point. But, to the best of my memory,...

[ Continued ]

As I stated in my previous post, I went and talked to my therapist about how whenever I get plagued by flashbacks, it's always memories from one period of my molestation or the other - either from 8-12 or 13-15, never memories from either periods at once. She tells me she has noticed it that too during our sessions, but it's unsurprising because I had two entirely different mindsets in during of those times. From 8 to 12, I had been enjoying it and from 13 and on, I started feeling violated. She also talked about how the memories from either period bother me for different reasons. Child and preteen years, it bothers me because I had enjoyed it. During my teen years, it bothers me because I had to endure it and it became a daily occurrence. Her words make perfect sense. You'd think I would have figured that out by myself. Maybe I still didn't want to focus on the fact that I had enjoyed it at one point again. But that clears that up. Now I can't help but wonder when exactly did I stop enjoying it. Where did the one period end and the other begin? Perhaps I'll reflect on that in another entry.

It's strange how these thoughts of mine work. I'm always cringing over memories of being molested when I was 8-12 or when I was 13-15. It's a bit hard to explain, but these flashbacks always come in a series of several memories rearing their ugly heads and always memories from one specific time of my life. I'll have a series of memories from the early years of my molestation bothering me until they eventually die down for a while but when they do, either more memories from that period will come up or memories from when I was 13-15 will. Never from both periods at the same time; never one memory from when I was 10 or so and another from when I was 15. I'm not sure why that it, but it's something I just recently noticed. I might bring it up to my therapist during tomorrow's session. Maybe she's noticed it too.