He’s been my on/off lover for almost eight years and, whilst we’ve never been boyfriend and girlfriend as such, I find my feelings for J are stronger than they have been for any man I’ve been involved with. I can’t bear to not have him in my life, not matter how difficult he makes it for me.
Having not heard from J for almost five months, I’d almost resigned myself to the fact that he and I are best off apart. I don’t want to wait around for him and he has his own life and family now. But on a recent trip back home, I couldn’t help myself and ended up trying to contact him one last time.
I’d lost my original UK number that J had saved, so I had to text him from my new one, which he didn’t have. I knew the curiosity of not knowing who the message was from would be too much for him and that he’d reply… he did. Within five minutes. I’d been calling and texting him for five months without a response and now he can reply in five minutes!
Our texts went back and forth until I finally told him it was me. Cue the barrage of texts explaining why he couldn’t reply to me in the past and how hard it had been for him to not reply. He then goes on to tell me sex with me is the best he’s ever had and always will be. If you knew J, you’d have been touched by that too.
An hour later, J called me. He told me how he’d missed me and how much he wanted to see me, even if it would only be for an hour. I caved in and agreed to meet him the next day….
In the past, I’d have always made my way to his house in Shepherd’s Bush but that’s no longer possible, so we arranged to meet at a train station in London. I didn’t like the fact I’d have to meet him somewhere else. I missed walking past my old flat, down his street and through his gate. I missed the anticipation of him opening the door and seeing that gorgeous smile. I missed him grabbing me as soon as I walked in and giving me a passionate kiss. It just wasn’t the same.
I still had butterflies before meeting J. I always do. He’s one of only two men that have ever made me feel that way. He picked me up from the station and the second I got into the car with him, I melted. I’d been angry with him the entire past five months and now I was putty in his hands. He looked gorgeous and all I could think of was planting my lips on his, but I wasn’t going to make that move this time.
We drove away from the station to a quiet park. It was a beautiful, sunny bank holiday Monday in London. It was so peaceful, and fluffy white clouds sailed through the perfect blue sky in the gentle breeze. We got out of the car and went for a walk, but we’d barely taken twenty steps before J grabbed me and gave me a kiss.
Nothing had changed. The chemistry between us was, undeniably, still there. Next thing I knew, we were traipsing through the woods to find a secluded spot. Pinned up against a tree, completely out of sight from passersby, we kissed more passionately. I knew what was going to happen. I’d been unsure earlier, but had prepared anyway, but now it was inevitable.
J’s hand made its way up my leg, over my thigh to my derriere. He was pleasantly surprised that I wasn’t wearing any underwear and it made our rendezvous smoother, given the location. J unzipped the front of my dress and put his mouth to my breasts. Nobody could do to me what J was doing. After more than seven years of sleeping together, he knew my body like the back of his hand. He knew how to make me melt and he used it.
All of my feelings for J resurfaced, and I couldn’t get enough of him. I knew it was dangerous territory but I couldn’t control myself. His kisses made me so weak. We had sex against the tree, and I held onto J so tightly. I never wanted to let him go. It was an amazing encounter and one I will never forget.
Afterwards, we went for a few drinks at a pub. For the first time in a long time, we spent time together where we weren’t fucking like animals. We talked, and for the first time since he told me he was having a baby, I saw things clearly. We both laid our cards on the table. We were a couple in love with far too many barriers to overcome to make it work.
J had matured greatly since having his son. He’d become the guy I’d move back to the UK for. The guy I could finally be honest with. It’d taken us over seven years to get there, but we’d made it. It’s just a shame there are too many obstacles in the way to make it happen. But that doesn’t stop me loving him. Or hoping that one day it might work out, despite knowing, in my hearts of hearts, that it never will.
We parted on a good note and J promised to keep in touch with me more regularly. Not because I asked him to, but because he wanted to. I wanted to cry when he left the pub. I’d missed him so much and the few hours we had spent together were so amazing. But, I was happy that we’d kissed and made up. Literally.
Since I’ve been back in Dubai, J has kept his word and been in contact with me. And for the first time ever, he was the one to arrange a Skype date. But now I’m wondering what I want from this relationship. Are we friends with occasional benefits or are we something more? Is this the ‘happy ever after’ fairytale every girl dreams of or is it going to be a complete mess?
I’ve been considering moving back to the UK for J, but my life in Dubai is pretty good, I’d hate to uproot myself and then two weeks later find out it’s not going to work. It’s taken so long for us to get this far, I’m not sure I can wait another 7 years to find out if it’s going to work for us. I guess all I can do is wait and see. I’m not putting my life on hold for J, but if there’s progress, I’ll definitely go with the flow…
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