No more ‘sexy texts’ from me…

I cracked. But I had good reason to.

My father while waiting for some medical appointment was in a waiting room when he saw a copy of ‘Spirit Magazine’ which was about steam traction engines. Inside the pages were some delightful illustrations of some viaducts in Devon and Cornwall. One of the pictures, in particular, was of the Viaduct in Truro, which is where Family Friend hails from.

Dear reader, I realise that the link between a 19th-century viaduct and a possible sexual conquest is tenable so that is exactly why I sent it. Because quite simply, I have not forgiven him his ‘disappearance’ the other Sunday, and now I am quite decided.

He will not be having sex with me.

Deep sigh.

A tilt of the head.

Yes. I will no longer be catering to this mans desires with photographs of me in lingerie, standing at provocative angles. No more me being ‘friendly’ and ‘flirty’. No. We are right back to where we started and there will never be another peep out of me about anything sexual.

Of course, I still want to be friends with him though! So when I saw this beautiful illustration of a viaduct it seemed perfect! The perfect friendship breaker? Yes.

Oh and it’s his birthday on Thursday, so I have also Amazon Primed him a Design Museum History of the Bike with the, I believe a casual message.

‘Dear ‘Family Friend’, wishing you a very happy birthday from Daisy and family xxx’.

There you go, darling. You may want to pretend none of the thousands of messages happened, but I am not going to forget them. No, not one bit. 😉

Sugardaddie.com – To catch a fish…

I’m bored with boys. Toxic or not. It’s time to expand my range of field. And when you want someone successful and solvent, where should you go shopping?
Why Sugardaddy.com of course. Please hold your incredulity. Yes. This site is still going strong, ten years after I originally visited it, in the search for someone who would save me. A decade on, and I don’t need saving, I’ve done that pretty well myself, but would I like to meet someone successful, intelligent and charismatic. (Preferably with a sense of humour, but to be honest, if they have managed to get some way forward in life, I kind of assume they will have.)
Yes, I’ve browsed past these profiles before. I met my ex-fiancé here, so I know there are some genuine men who showcase their achievements, and some honest women. But life is too short not to be me so this time I won’t be pulling any punches. I’m not mutton dressing up as lamb. I’m steak, maybe even sirloin.
I’m not embarrassed to put myself into an arena mostly populated with young, busty, underdressed women looking for an arrangement or flirting with prostitution, because quite simply, I’m not. I’m me. The funny thing is most of them seem to think themselves not part of that ‘game’.
“So dinner was going well,” my telephone initial date confides.
“And then, halfway through, she asks me if I am going home afterwards.”
I know what’s coming, but I don’t mind this playing out for my entertainment, so I make the appropriate grunts.
“I say yes, and then she says, ‘Well if you pay me £200 I will come back with you and sleep with you.”
I try not to guffaw with laughter at this. We have early on this conversation established this man has 3 Porsches, the fact this girl thought he even had to pay for sex is ridiculous, but hey ho.
“And I said, ‘When did you become a hooker?’ She was shocked. ‘What do you mean?’ she said.
I repeated myself. ‘When did you become an escort?’
‘I’m not a hooker!’ she said and she was shocked.”
He had proceeded to explain to her how the escort world worked, and she had refused to acknowledge her position, instead of saying that what she was charging was for was ‘expenses’, her nails, her outfit…
“So I said, well, and what if I said I wasn’t going to pay you? Would you still come back and sleep with me?’, and she said no!”
“Oh dear,” I say in a commiserating tone of voice. Thankful he can’t see my face.
This isn’t an unusual story, and I do feel for this unknown man, his naivety and hers. In a world of so many blurred lines, when it comes to modern relationships, if you are older than 29, it’s best to cut the crap and be upfront and honest about who you are and what you want.
Three days ago I spoke to ‘Marcus, ‘six businesses in his portfolio’ Marcus, who said he was upfront about what he wanted and liked in his life.
“I can’t bare rudeness,” I said bluntly, already beginning to feel a little uneasy.
“No, not rude, I just know what I want, and then I go and get it.”
“Oh dear,” I thought silently, “Oh dear”.
“So what was the best sex you had recently and why?” he quizzed me, and like a rabbit caught in headlights I fell into his ready-made trap.
“It was with a boy” I start hesitantly, “and I’m done with boys now” I continue.
“He was intelligent and ticked a lot of boxes for me, and there was just a lot of compatibility” I continue with a reasonable amount of confidence.
“No, no!” he exclaims. “What made it great sex?”
“Compatibility” I reply, incredulous that someone I’ve never met before could be so crude and crass.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Jesus. Some people.
He goes onto to ask what I am into.
“Are you a handbag or a shoe girl? What do you like to spend your money on”.
By this point I have given up with any effort, I might have been subconsciously making from the point I found out this man was ‘comfortably off’.
“To be frank, any money I’ve ever earned I have reinvested back into myself and my personal projects. I don’t go and spend money on frivolous, things like that. I wear my clothes until they fall apart, as I believe we live in an era where people don’t appreciate the clothes they have and it’s bad for the environment to spend, spend, spend… without appreciating the human cost.”
I’ve lost him now. He is backing away. Him, with his “Vineyards in Sonoma’, he brought to ‘help some friends’. A good thing as really very few wineries turns a profit. His ‘Production Company’, and something else to do with cars. He thinks I need to ‘lighten up’ and I should lose the overlong ‘backstory.’
In all honesty, when he started to say, in answer to had he has ever been married, ‘Well, I don’t believe we live in the same world as our parents did’ I could tell he wasn’t ‘a good ‘un’.
There are rich people in this world, and there are arrogant, self-absorbed rich people, and as much I am trying to find an escape from my nightmare, (the forced exodus from the home counties) I’m too old to pretend to be something I’m not.
I wouldn’t mind going to the Westcountry if I was going to live in an artists cottage, with flame retardant thatch, and exposed oak beams that reek of history that looked out to the sea. Or even better, some modern pieces of stylish, whitewashed, architecture with big glass windows, and a space for my home gym, art studio and a massive industrial kitchen for my pop up restaurant catering operation to be held. But, instead, I will have two options. A shed, and no, it’s not a George Clark, ‘Amazing Spaces shed’ that has no plumbing or draft proofing, and comes with a view of a cliff wall that has knotweed. Or, not much better, and possibly more traumatic, the second bedroom in my parent’s mico cottage, where to move anywhere is a chess game of moving human pieces, with it’s paper thin walls, sun and stars wallpaper, that contrasts nicely with the fire engine red carpet. The latter was my early efforts at risk avoidance as Ribena stains wouldn’t show, but now this carpet is so dominant in such a small space it positively demands the attention of the eye, and I despair of such a room becoming my future home.
I’ve found good men on this site before. Interesting dynamic individuals, who have pushed themselves, and prospered, so I know it can be done. But last time, I was ready to fall in love with anyone, (I can, I’m like that, it’s not hard) and this time I’m not. I’m open to possibility, but I know unless there is chemistry, and it’s actual real love, it will fail before it’s even begun.
There are many women who can marry for money. Who doesn’t care who shags them senseless. Many women who don’t mind, fat, heavy, sweaty middle-aged men squishing them as they thrust hard and deep again and again. But I do.
Unfortunately, or maybe not, I’m fussy and if there isn’t chemistry nothing will be, but you have to be in the sea to catch a fish. And I’m undoubtedly fishing.

It’s all casual for goodness sake!

“What are you looking for?”

I’ve heard this question so much it’s now engrained into my skull and for years I’ve been answering it all wrong.

Yes, you may be waiting for Mr Right to appear and whisk you off your feet, but now is not the time to say that! If you want to send, said individual running for the hills, of course, be as honest as you like and lay it out on a table cloth. Just don’t expect to hear from him again.

Why not, instead point out that this is all bloody ‘casual’ until someone decides they want it otherwise? It’s not like you can make a relationship out of nothing? But maybe that’s where we are going wrong. We wear our hearts on our sleeves, and speak truth from our mouths and just like that we douse the flames of possibility before they’ve even begun to burn.

I wanted you, and I wanted you to love me…

I wanted someone to love me,

and I wanted you.

But you could not make that one,

and the same.

Instead life keeps repeating,

And suddenly I’ve realized it’s me who must be the one to change.

Be the change you want to see,

And not just a static thing,

If you want to have the dream,

Learn to be your own hero and not

Need, or chase a King.

For life is fleeting,

And imperfect always.

So grasp the moments before they are seen retreating,

And learn to love yourself first and foremost,

It’s the only way you will stop this emotional beating.

Although the pain is fresh and raw,

See ahead, the open door.

So much opportunity and hope lies ahead.

It’s time to learn to love your single occupancy of your bed.

Saturday 28th: TFF: He hasn’t noticed me….

TFF: The Family Friend

He hadn’t noticed me. The family friend I secretly fancy, has not noticed me at all. Our brief flirtation with danger had passed. As he drove away I comforted myself with the thought that by my going to bed early we had managed to avoid any messiness or confusion. As much as this man had clearly shown me that my infatuation with the messed-up toxic boy was that and only that, he was not unmarked himself and came with a wardrobe full of issues. I felt the ground below me was not the place I wished to be in: I was on the right road to obtaining my goal. Which is him.

The worst-case scenario, as I could have seen it, was that in a moment of lustful late night sober hot summer nights inebriation, I might have sent some provocative photos to him as he lay tossing and restless in the adjacent room. The warmth of the night, the stillness of the hot air combined with the pleasant ease of our early evening interaction could have led all too easily into his arousal and then what?

Well. What I could not have let happen was the consummation of our passion. As much as I yearned to feel his lips against mine, to begin to explore his mouth with my tongue and softly caress his muscular neck and head, to do it now, so soon, without really knowing each other? Lunacy.

I do love him. Undoubtedly so and with the familiarity of someone close and akin to a brother – a step-brother for the propriety’s sake. But how can I know him when I have barely scratched the surface of knowing anything of him?  I know he loves to cycle and to surf and that through his career he is a dab hand behind most lenses but do I know the man? No, and that requires time and energy, the latter of which I am really lacking in right now.  And there’s another thing. If by some ill-fated moment of madness we were to fall into bed, well, he is a pro athlete and me, I’m a patient in recovery, blighted by fatigue that dogs me like a bad smell. The problem of course is I can already imagine what he would want and expect of me: fast, furious, hot, wet sex and based upon the inconsistency of my saliva production, my oral attentions would of physical necessity be of the slow, steady, considered and artistic variety and I suspect he is more International in his desires than that, so actually I am relieved; relieved that I have avoided disappointment when we have fucked so many times in my head, the real thing could never really be so good.

The hours pass gently and thoughts turn to my puppy. She has rolled in something unpleasantly malodorous and so, a little later,  and with my Father along for company we head off on an adventure to the local Pets At Home store to buy some powerfully aromatic shampoo that we hope will wash away the reek of countryside! While there we inquire about dog baths but all they have is dog paddling pools and in a moment of rash abandonment, I spend the last of my money on one. My Father looks at me quizzically and I explain that with the temperature is forecast to rise steeply I want both our dogs to be able to keep cool. Of course, I’ve also secretly considered that in the worst heatwave scenario, I’d not think twice about sitting in it myself and have already visualised the scene: a glass of non-alcoholic wine in my hand, sunglasses fashionably atop my head, and a dog or perhaps two, beside me? I’m already planning the Instagram post in my head…

Back home, my mother has stretched out an extension lead onto the wooden deck so she can iron of all the family’s clothes in the shade of the awning. She doesn’t have to do it and she certainly doesn’t have to do it now but she does anyway simply because she loves us all, even those who have left home. Some mothers bake healthy seed bars and cupcakes with buttercream and sprinkles for those they love. My mother irons. Everyone has their way of showing affection. I really I have no idea why she is doing it now though, in the midst of this almost European heat. It’s a mystery.

My father works his way methodically through his Newspaper and then, much to her annoyance, my Mother’s Newspaper too. The unexpected heat of Summer has suddenly made the garden feel like a foreign land and, when a little breeze blows through, we are pleasantly surprised: so easily delighted! I ask my father to help with the dog paddling pool, and within seconds it is up. Then we start to fill it, and soon the fun begins as we try to tempt the dogs into it. My puppy gets the idea first; her youthful enthusiasm bubbling through as she prances in and out.  The older dog, despite loving the sea is less enamoured and takes to leaning over as far as he can to try and reach the ball of temptation we have thrown in. Eventually, he cracks, they both have the idea, we all laugh at the fun of it. They aren’t my children but they have the innocence of children and the desire to play. I relish their boundless enthusiasm.

When later it becomes cooler, I start to cook. I love my mother so much, and although I have managed to scrimp together some money for gifts I believe it will be my baking that will prove my adoration. Realistically though, of course, it won’t. She doesn’t bake. She doesn’t comprehend the stress of accurately weighing out the ingredients; the fear that rises as you implore the cake to do. Oh, the anxiety of the wait! Will it rise?  For everything to be ready in time tomorrow the only sensible thing to do will be to rise at around six am – but making a start now, well that’s a start!

By the evening we are ready for the last episode of ‘The Looming Tower’, a fantastic bit of dramatization about 911. Jeff Daniels’ performance is excellent, and the inclusion of genuine footage of the hijackers is chilling. By the time the inevitable occurs, we are cold with fear and incredulous of the CIA.  As the Towers are hit, we have transported there again and yet again I find myself confronted with the reality of how life is so fleeting and so haphazard. unplanned.  We don’t know how long we have. We don’t know the plans of others. We only have now and we must live in the moment and appreciate the now for what it is and what we can make of it.

Afterwards, we switch over to watch Glastonbury and ‘The Killers’ are playing. I watch with envy at the revellers, the crowds, the darkness and the swaying lights of the phones held up to the performers. I’ve wanted to go to Glastonbury ever since I became aware of it but money and then health has always held me back. Now, now that I have been touched by the closeness of death, and the subsequent possibility of organ rejection I know I must not wait for the “right” moments: I must make the ‘right moments’ myself.

I go upstairs for a shower. It’s been so hot today that I covered myself in some suntan lotion called P20, which seals and protects your skin and then . . . .

“Fuck it!” And so I message him.

[7:46 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: How did the rest of your day go?

[7:54 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Well it’s too hot to paint. In organising mode. Fixing the bike.

What did you get up to?

[8:00 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Currently in the shower 🚿 lol funny coincidence

(It’s a funny coincidence because back when this all began she had sent him some photos from the shower. It had been art. That was her excuse. A personal desire to create an erotic image on a woman showering with the water, cascading down on to her naked form. The curves of her body sensual in the half-light. She had, originally just wanted an opinion. She hadn’t known that it would excite him. Set his mind racing. Quicken his pulse and make him reach for himself to quiet the urge that now pulsated within him.

[8:01 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: That I will be doing soon. Need a cold shower.

And then, as an afterthought.

[8:02 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Show me.

She shouldn’t. She should resist. She should. But she doesn’t.

[8:05 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: And will I get one back?

[8:06 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: If you ask.

[8:07 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Shame you disappeared last night. Would have been nice to play with you and your many toys.

[8:07 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Mr Scott, Miss requests a photo of you enjoying your shower 🚿 this is open to the interpretation of course… 😉

[8:08 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: You asked for no temptations – so there were none. 😉

[8:17 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Should have opened that up for interpretation.

[8:19 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Looking skinny miss!

[8:25 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: First world problems – too much nipple for dinner

[8:26 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: But not in clothes 😉

[8:31 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Well that would have been fun to play with last night. Instead, I smashed my head and woke up hard.

[8:56 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Feel rubbish about your head… sorry 😐

[8:56 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: In other news… Did you wake up hard? Now I am disappointed I missed that! 😜

[9:13 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Well at 1:17. I was thinking about you then just smashed my head.

[9:14 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Oh was that why you went to your phone…?

[9:14 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Gawd – I am feeling so bad now!

[9:14 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Yes!

[9:14 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Thought I’d pester you and wanted to play.

[9:14 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Although that could be the world pointing out we should behave in real life. or we will be punished. lol

[9:15 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: True.

[9:15 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Gawd… you are so so dangerous…

[9:15 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Not complaining!

[9:16 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: I am. Not exactly sensible…

[10:04 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: I’m still waiting…

[10:04 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: 📷 ? 😉

[10:10 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Want to see you cuming

[10:26 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Ha knew I should have held back until I had a written confirmation of mutual reciprocation lol

[10:27 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Shower time

[10:27 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Killers are on at Glastonbury

[10:27 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Oh I love them.

 

I’m thrilled with a shared connection. Maybe we aren’t so different after all?

 

[10:27 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Me too

[10:28 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Distracted me

[10:28 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: I’ve spent my life waiting for money and health to go to Glastonbury- next year – fuck it – I’m going

[10:29 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: God my head hurts from the bang.

 

He had banged his head on a shelf in the early hours of the morning, and although I have apologised several times for the awkwardness of household fitting I really don’t know how many times I can apologise and make anything better. Why does he keep bringing it up?

 

[10:32 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: I’m not really sure what to say 🙄

[10:32 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Go and distract yourself?

[10:33 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Sorry 😐 doesn’t really do much

[10:34 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Don’t worry. Time to cum in the shower

[10:39 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Like to see your pussy filled as I cum over you.

[11:20 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: I would like to be kissed by those amazing lips but hey ho – but no chance of that so looks like neither of us may get what we want for now…

[11:21 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Well you never know.

 

Why Scott? Why? You wouldn’t mean it. You know you wouldn’t. But there you go, raising up my hopes. Making me think that maybe I stand a chance in the world of 9/10 and people like you. On a good day, I am an 8. But that’s through and down to mind, my looks aren’t much, but the package is.

 

[11:21 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Like to sink my tongue in your wet pussy.

 

Oh god, I moisten at the thought.

 

[11:26 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: I’ve got a brilliant little vibrator which strokes me delightfully…. but fingers that stroke is always better… then a tongue flicking, licking, twisting over and around… meow…

 

And then in answer to his previous comment.

 

[11:27 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: And ha – I know the score so I’m not holding my breath 😉😘

[11:28 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Thought about two fingers in deep and pulling our hard to make you squirt. Think about my arm tense and my fingers in you deep.

[11:58 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Nice thoughts to take to bed with me…

 

[12:02 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Hard thinking of your beautiful breasts as I hugged you.

[12:04 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Meanwhile I was there thinking – “Hmm… at what point is this hug too long? And therefore inappropriate? Why has no one come up with timings for these things? And Christ wow – what a nice body…”

[12:07 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Love our hugs as I feel your beautiful breasts close to my chest.

 

I am now noting that a good way to get him aroused our hugs. The closeness of proximity. And maybe perhaps body warmth combined with touch? Next time I must try and hug him more. Be the huggable I can be…

 

[12:08 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Greatly relieved that when I can eventually afford to go on holiday and (if you aren’t otherwise loved up with someone or busy) I ask you along -topless sunbathing will not be awkward.

 

[12:18 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Don’t I’m hard.

 

I take a selfie with a bra strap off my shoulder, the suggestion of my nipple just revealed.

 

[12:22 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Sometimes less is more x

[12:24 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: As in you did not fuck me.

[12:28 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Shame you did not take me.

[12:37 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: The days of me making the first moves on a one night stand are over – I’m only assertive when I know it’s mine to take – boring but reliably short of risk

[12:38 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Yep mine too.

[12:40 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Shame would have been fun watching you cum and your nipples getting hard

[12:43 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: I would have loved to see you get hard x

 

I start to slide my vibrator in deeper. Allowing it to stroke my inner walls. By changing my angle I can get it to feel as though I am astride him and I close my eyes and let the moans rise up inside me.

My phone beeps, but I am too involved. Whatever it is will need to wait.

By the time I have reached a crescendo of melting pleasure, my phone screen is alight again.

 

[12:46 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: I’m playing now.

[12:48 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Do you want to cum together

[12:50 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Sorry 😐 I couldn’t wait…

[12:51 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: I thought you had gone to sleep which is why I didn’t wait sorry 😐

[12:54 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: I wanted you on me.

[12:56 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Funnily enough that was my (just now) choice of angle – but it would have been too slow for you in real life.

 

I send through the shot of me and my toy.

 

[12:59 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Sleep well naughty one x don’t worry I will be the sensible one for now!

[1:12 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: One last thought – do you think you might ever want to just lie in bed with me? Cuddle or spoon? Without doing anything?

Or to be blunt – because life is too short and I hope you always can be honest with me – is it just the sex you want?

 

She waits for a bit. Restless now. Wanting an answer. Checking her phone, and then, eventually giving into sleep.

On waking, she checks her phone.

 

[1:28 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Yes. I want you to suck me as I fill you.

 

Ignoring the fact that she can’t for the life of her work out how this setup would work, here we are back to stage one. I try not to be disappointed. Realistically it’s much better to know he just sees me as sex, them mutually enjoying getting off, and not risking getting hurt. If I can now try and play the long game, maybe, even, ignore him for a bit? Could I manage that? I could surely get on with my writing? That’s what I must do… but first, a selfie! By twisting my hair up it’s gone into voluptuous rolls so I let it unfurl and tumble and turns to the window for the best light. It’s a sensible and serious selfie. In my bra. My cleavage curves seductively and my lips are moistened with gloss and the suggestion of more. I send it.

 

[10:48 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Have a great positive and productive day x

[10:54 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Thank you. You too.

[10:55 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: And don’t worry 😉 you’ve been Captain Sensible for a long time, I can wear the uniform for a bit now 😉

 

Yes, she can.

 

 

Silence – he’s just not that into you…

Silence.

I’ve heard nothing from Family Friend all week. And to be honest, although I’m disappointed I’m unsurprised. As much as I would love for this man to be in love with me, to want me, to need me, he isn’t ready for love. (As the old song goes or doesn’t…)

He is undoubtedly beautiful to look at, but his mind, I fear is still in pieces. Pieces of glass perhaps? Shiny, bright and yet with sharp edges. Edges that right now would cut me if we lay together. Our bodies moist and hot with the beads of sweat from our passion.

Where is he now?

10:22pm?

Hopefully in bed?

More likely painting the walls of his new home.

Thinking of me?

Doubtful.

And that’s the reality.

What it’s taken me 34 years to realise is, if they don’t text, if they find call, walk on, walk away.

They just aren’t that into you. Xoxo

I should know better, the truth about Family Friend.

Maybe you are on his mind, as much as he is on yours…

I should know better. It’s not as though this conversation has been totally cool. If I look back through the picture messages and well let us be frank, the predominant number, most of them are from me. I don’t want to think the worst of him, because I don’t even think he probably realizes what this is turning into but if this was a friend I think I’m beginning to realize what I would say to them.

The Family Friend is lonely. He’s also a guy with a high sex drive. What he wants is an available woman. He’s also, been very badly hurt in the past and for that among many reasons he’s scared of rejection and doesn’t want to get hurt again. He wants someone he can trust, and yet his head is still so messed up he can’t even begin to fathom the idea of a relationship. Trust issues are huge, as is our desire for self-preservation but that doesn’t mean that he’s not full of desire.

Then along came me; the ‘other’ female Family Friend that has always been in his life and he’s seen grow from a child into a woman. At first, he may have been confused and a little disgusted that he found me attractive but after I made it clear that I was a sexual human being and available, his defences dropped. At this point due to the choice of communication method viz texting and images, he was able to detach himself from the reality of me as a person in his life. When we message he is talking to a sexualized, available human being and suddenly an innocent friendship has turned into something much more erotic.

If we were not connected through families, friendship and years of memories and experiences, if we were strangers, then what happens next really wouldn’t matter but unfortunately, we have both been hurt and for us both, trust issues are huge. If I was someone with more energy then maybe it would be OK to casually fuck him but as much as many women are fine with this arrangement, I am the sort of person that attaches a huge amount of significance to sexual intercourse especially now as he is the man I’ve had a crush on since the age of about seven and felt that I have loved since the age of 15. With our limited contact, there is no real way I could actually have been in love with him – infatuated more likely – but that doesn’t stop me from feeling that he could be “The One” Realistically, realistically there’s no such thing as “The One.” There are a number of different people who come into your life at different times for different reasons and at any point might feel a good fit with what you’re looking for. To say that they are the only one that would complete you and make you feel complete is just a figment of the imagination.

So to summarize, what is harmless fun and erotic pleasure to him is unfortunately seen by me as something much more than it actually is. Flattered as I am by his attention and as turned on as I am by him, if I really want to get on with my life, I am actually going to have to start ignoring him and bringing things back to a more level existence.

I’m an old hand now at falling for people that don’t love me and at least the bittersweetness of this whole mini-drama is that even though he doesn’t love me as I want him to, I’m sure at least a little part of him loves me as a friend.

When the messages stopped so suddenly today leaving me on so geographically satisfied I panicked. Of course, I did, it’s what I finished being rejected, or worse abandoned. The last thing is an echo back to my childhood existence. (Men don’t understand how a lack of response can be so destroying to a woman, why must we need so much attention? Really? It’s quite mad.) And with anyone else, yes. I should be freaked. But not with TFF. Yes, he can do weird shit, and he can run away, but realistically we are tied to together by more than randomness. Family friendships have existed for years and will continue to do so, we will just need to row on. Row on down the river of life, and past all the craziness of relationships and love.

Update 190702
I sent the picture included with the last post and the message “#friendship, #friends x” and finally once he had read this followed it up with an image self from a photographer friend of a woman on her front spread eagle across a bed. Well, why not? It’s not like I am going to get what I want right now, so the occasional tease or arousing shot can’t hurt? Can it…?

I’m not giving up yet. Not on this one.