Withdrawal

He said I wasn't respecting his feelings by hounding him to get back together.  He's not respecting mine by refusing.  I guess I've always been the one who had to compromise.  I never really minded.  This is the hardest compromise I've ever had to make.  This is by far the longest amount of time we've spent apart, and by far the longest amount of time we've spent without talking.  I don't know how he can do it.  He has tons of friends and sexy men to distract him.  I hope they are helping.  It wouldn't help me.  Nothing but his body excites me.

I made a video tonight where I jerked off onto a picture of his and licked it up.  It is not high art.  It is something I want to send him.  In other circumstances, he would be turned on and flattered.  I know this would just annoy him.  I also wrote one of the most simple, heart-felt, and beautiful songs I've written in years, just for him.  He may never hear it.  Even if he listens, he still may not.  I wish I could share these things with him.

I have been so prolific in blasting my pain out into the internet that people are coming out of the woodwork to send kind thoughts.  I am not doing it for their attention, though I am grateful.  I am doing it because I cannot bear the thought that he may never fully understand how much I'm willing to work, struggle, sacrifice, and dedicate myself to him and for him.  The only thing I can't do is let him go without a fight.  As a consolation, this way I am proving that I can show respect for his feelings.  That is a start.  It is so hard, but it is a start.

He was my best friend as well as my lover.  I would light up like a Christmas tree every time he texted me.  Often it was just "hi" but that was enough.  It would send me soaring through heaven.  It would send my heart racing through the universe at the speed of light.  It would raise my spirits like nothing else could.  Now, nothing else could.

I never wanted anybody else.  I never wanted to have sex with anyone else.  I never wanted to look at anyone else.  Even porn on the internet.  He accidentally used my Tumblr account one day and I found he'd started following tons of porn posters.  I kept them on, but every time I looked I only felt guilty and was reminded that I had the best man there could be.  I never wanted that half hour of impersonal sex.  I was acting out.  I was doing something I knew was wrong.

The one thing I did want was love.  Now I have it from everyone else, people I have been estranged from for years.  It doesn't help, though I wish it would.  My sister, who I barely spoke with is one.  Suddenly I am having phone conversations where I'm telling real things about my life rather than vague storytelling to make it sound like I'm not wasting my time watching my dreams die in New York.   Now when they ask and I'm watching his online postings, I can say, "I'm watching my dreams die in New York."