It's been a long time sinceI posted last. I tried to write a couple of posts a few times but the words just wouldn't come out right and I couldn't get into the correct headspace. But Tyler's last couple of posts have given me a bit of courage to share the traumatizing event that happened to me last week.
I got dumped.
That must be a big shock to you all, considering I never made any mention of me being in a relationship. Let me back up a little.
My last entry recounted the first time that Darius and I had sex, and it still makes me blush thinking about writing it despite the dozens of subsequent times it happened. My outlook and plan at the time was to keep things casual and exploratory with Darius, but not to get too attached since I was leaving in June. That plan lasted about 3 days.
It was a Friday night and we had just finished seeing a movie and we went back to his place. We we had finished with the sex I was still sorta seeing stars with my head curled up under his arm while he kissed the top of my hair and stroked my side.
"Babe, I know you said you wanted to take things slow" he said soft of voice and firm of tone "But this thing that we got...I want it to be more. I think we should be exclusive"
I was about to recite my practiced and planned response of how I needed to take things slowly and yadda yadda yadda when the words "I'd love that" escaped my lips.
There's this thing I do when trying to pass myself off as someone else where I just sit back sometimes and let my subconscious do the talking or reacting. On some level my brain is swimming in Kari's hormones so I feel like Kari does, so sometimes I just go with my gut instinct. This came in really handy when I first started having sex with Latherman but I've used it in other situations. I'm 99% certain women's/mother's intuition is real.
So just like that I had a boyfriend. A kind, courteous, charming boyfriend who texted me everyday and called me beautiful and gave a self conscious guy in a woman's body a major ego boost and pick me up. This was major news and definitely blog worthy.
But I couldn't write.
I'd sit down, ready to break the news and I would suddenly be rather embarrassed. Writing in this blog is when I'm Lane. Whenever I speak to someone else or am out in the world, I have to be Kari. When I spill my guts here, I'm Lane again. And Lane would never even think about doing some of the things that I did to and with Darius. I'm blushing a little just thinking about them. I know I shouldn't be worried about what you guys think, this blog is filled with the chronicles of former men in women's bodies having sex with men, but even after all these months there's the tiniest bit of ick factor that this blog activates. I had no trouble writing about the affair with Latherman because that was something that I feel I have to do. Darius was something that I wanted to do. That I chose to do. That I kept doing.
So why did I get dumped?
One fine morning a couple of weeks ago me and Darius were tangled up under his covers when we heard a phone vibrating from underneath our pile of clothes. Darius has a busy job and often gets important texts and we weren't sure whose phone was buzzing so he checked. It was mine and he accidentally saw the text.
"Who's Nick L.?" He asked, sounding slightly pissed off
I froze. I stammered a bit but I don't think I said any actual words
"And why is he buying you panties?"
The text he had read said. "Bought you some sexy panties to replace the ones I ripped."
I should explain. I never stopped having sex Kari's boss, even after me and Darius were official. That meant I cheated on him about a dozen times over the course of our short relationship, which was a shitty thing for me to do. I justified it with some serious mental gymnastics and compartmentalizing. I told myself that Latherman was a Kari thing, and not me. It wasn't cheating if my emotions weren't in it. It was purely physical.
But no amount of explanation would make Darius believe that Latherman was having sex with Kari's body, but he was dating the man's mind inside of it at the time.
"Isn't that your boss?!" He asked after he put it together "Are you fucking your boss?"
"Yes." I said softly. Unable to lie. "But it means nothing. It's just..."
"Is he fucking you at work?" Darius said with a look of disgust that still haunts me "Like, is that what your job is there? Is he pressuring you?"
"It's just that with Ashley--"
"That's illegal Kari"
"I'm not forced to..."
"You need to get going" He said sternly. He didn't yell at me. He could have and he should have but he didn't yell at me. This man was in control at all times and that's one of my favorite things about him. "I need to think about this."
While he thought I sat in the bedroom back at Kari's apartment, wringing my hands waiting for the phone to wring. It took about 12 hours before he called.
"We need to take a break" He said coldly and firmly "I'm not trying to fault you or shame you, but I can't trust you right now. So you need to get your shit in order, and you need to do it by yourself."
I sniffled a goodbye but the second he hung up I cried. For hours. And then I stopped. And then cried some more. Did anyone else on this blog ever mention that estrogen makes crying easier? Because I've been dumped before by women who I'd liked more and dated longer than I've been with Darius but I was reduced to a blubbering mess for awhile.
I'm not over it per se, but writing this has helped. I've immersed myself into other aspects of this life and I'll probably write about them now that I've cracked my writer's block. It's just before midnight on Cinco de Mayo, which apparently Kari's family doesn't celebrate because they aren't from the Pueblo State in Mexico and it's really more of a commercialized holiday here in the States. But is a Thursday and me and Rosita will be going out so maybe I'll update on that.