Now, sitting here, I cry for my vulnerable, naked self.
Leaning against the pillow, I sat upright with a blanket pulled to cover my breast. Just as I debated whether to straighten up the pantie still hooked on my keens, he walked in…
He: Put on your clothes! *almost shouted*
Caught off guard, I slowly searched for my bra while keeping myself covered.
He: That was so wrong. How could we sin against God like that? I hate my sin and I feel like a hypocrite. We tell people that we are Christians but we do these things. It could have gone in! All the rubbings and stuff… this has to stop. *head down and grief-stricken*
Me: I know… I’m so sorry… we are both sorry… *hand on his shoulder*
He: I need to repent. You should go pray too. *voice trembling*
Silently closing the door behind me, I walked out of the bedroom and found my slippers sprawling across the kitchen floor.
Right, the dishes.
Perhaps, I just got used to it.
There were two types of scenarios.
One that the falacio or the rubbing was so good to the point of ejaculation, in which he rushed to the bathroom then returned defeated and began to pray alone.
The other, we managed to stop and all was well (-ish).
On the other side of the screen was my best friend. It was 6 in the evening, so it must have been 7 or 8 AM in Korea. I could imagine her typing furiously on the train to work.
She: I can’t believe you guys went almost 8 years without sex. It’s an important part of the relationship!
Me: Yeah. In retrospect, it sounds like a miracle now.
She: Maybe that’s why the relationship wasn’t sustainable.
Me: I don’t know, but isn’t it shallow if we broke up over sex?
She: Mmm. Maybe? But you can’t deny that it’s one of the parts that makes a relationship last. Wait, but you did, um, do other things?
Me: Well, you know. Pretty much everything but penetration. I did oral on him and we touched each other.
She: But how could that be satisfying? Did he perform oral on you or fingering? And the cuddle afterwards? What was in it for you?
He introduced me to Christ, but before that, Christianity was a foreign concept.
Was that the reason why I felt more numb than guilty?
Or was it that women don’t ejaculate?
What is wrong or right? How to differentiate love, desire and lust?
Each is carrying baggage; we stumble through life, pricked, scarred, slashed and hurting.