******
Hannah
will never forget
those first few days and
how
it felt when the
two of them found
each
other.
How
easy it was for
her
to talk to him,
how he
made her
laugh and smile. Oh,
how
could she
ever forget all
the
joy he
wrapped
her
in?
She
will never forget that first real
date and how he took
her
exactly where she
wanted
to be.
Where
she
needed
to be. Oh, how
nervous they both
were and
how his
eyes sparkled
while he
looked at her.
He
was
so excited to
hold his
hand on her
thigh. He
stared
at her
so intensely
that he
almost crashed them
on a small hillside road.
She
can still
remember how impatient he was
for that first kiss to happen and
how amazing it felt. Doe she
remember how she
laughed while he
kissed her
when they got back
in the car? It was because Taylor Swift’s song was on, “Shake it
off”, and it made her
laugh because she
felt like they
were teenagers again,
on a
first date, all innocent and shit, not
well into their 30’s.
She
remembers his
voice as he
spoke, in-between
the kisses, into
her
mouth,about
how it feels dangerously good to kiss her,
how she could
be
dangerous for him.
She could still feel that
chemistry spark that
blew up her
universe. She
remembers
how he
kissed her
and touched her
body in that moment, so passionately yet so innocently.
How he
told her
to close her
eyes and imagine what would it
feel like to have what he was
doing with his
tongue on her
lips, repeated on her
throbbing womanhood. Oh my God, she
had an orgasm even
without him putting
his hands underneath
her cloths or touching her womanhood.
She
remembers
how he was burning
from desire
to feel her
mouth on his
manhood.
She
now knows that is what he loved the most. The beginning. Those first
flirts. The hunt.
She
can still remembers those hugs from their next date, when they spent
hours and hours gently exploring each other. She really, really
misses how he was that day, at his finest. She has never felt such
sexual excitement and such a powerful orgasm without even coming
close to penetration. She remembers how her long nails explored his
body. She remembers how he shivered the first time she licked his
manhood and how she loved his taste, his texture, his shape and
dimensions. She thought of it as perfect. She can still hear echoes
of his moans from the first time she wrapped her mouth around it. How
shocked he was with how good it felt to have Hannah’s mouth warped
around his most prized possession. She can remember how shockingly
good it felt to push Dean’s manhood deep into her mouth. She
remembers their conversation. How he opened up and talked about his
heartbreak with tears in his eyes. How she told him all about her own
heartbreak, how he soothed her and how they thought it was funny and
sweet that they understood each other so well. Dean touched Hannah in
all the right ways, both physically and mentally. He woke up the
beast and pulled all the right strings.
And
then, without any warning signs, he just pulled away and broke her
for the first time. It was hard, but it was fine. His roots were
still close enough to the surface to be pulled out without
consequences. She was thinking how he was just another player, just
another stereotype of wannabe man. He got his, so deeply desired,
blowjob. He got what he came for and then he ice her out. Hannah
tried to talk to him, wondering what happened so suddenly (although
suddenly is a relative term in this instance because everything about
them was sudden, fast and intense) and maybe she thought he was much
more like her, craving honesty and bluntness, and maybe she pushed
too hard. She locked him out because she wanted to protect herself.
No, she needed to protect herself. She should have left those doors
damn well shut! She never should have let him back in.
Hannah
tried to move on. She really did. She found a nice guy who liked
spending time with her, talking, cuddling, hugging and who took an
interest in her, who wanted to know her problems and what is going on
in her life in general. Milo tried to get close to her. He was
willing to make her a part of his life. He talked to his friends
about her and refereed to her as “my Hannah”. He did everything
right, and yet, she kept thinking about Dean, who, after all that
time, wouldn’t give her any of those things. That’s when Dean
reached out again and she fell back into the black hole he created
around her. She did something she never thought possible. She decided
to cheat on Milo. And she couldn’t even resent Dean this time
because he tried to be honest and she chose to risk it and become a
cheater. It was her choice to disregard some of the most important
principles she had her entire life: not to be a cheater, never allow
someone to disrespect her in such a profound way, never to take back
someone who broke her heart once and not to lie. Nobody forced her to
make those choices, she did it willingly, for him. And then they
finally saw each other again. That sex! Oh, my fucking God!!! Sex
never felt that good. So liberating, so exciting, so fulfilling and
so satisfying. She tried to ask him some stupid question she couldn’t
even remember few minutes later, but he jumped to a conclusion and
interrupted her, thinking he surely knows what she was going to ask.
He told her then and there about wanting to have a family and how he
wanted to put a ring on “her” finger. Hanna is still unsure if
she didn’t want to hear it or if he said it vaguely enough to hide
the fact that by “her” in that sentence, he meant his ex and it
is “her” he will always want above all. He talked about being
afraid of both Hannah’s feelings and his own, but never once
identifying what kind of feelings he was having. He went on this
rampage of thoughts and feelings, leaving Hannah lost deep in her
thoughts. She broke up with Milo soon after that. The guilt and
self-loathing were just to much for her.
She
risked it all and put all the chaos raging through her head on paper.
She wrote about not being able to have children, about wanting to be
a mother her entire life, about the mess of pain and suffering
miscarriages have left behind. She wrote about who she loved in her
life and why. She wrote about her health issues that made her
reconsider everything about her present and future. She poured her
heart and soul on paper. Maybe it was all too much, too soon for
Dean. His response was to ignore and avoid her and afterwards he
would try to justify his behavior and make excuses about being in a
bad mood, asking Hannah why she is “torturing” him. Oh, how could
she ever forget how he told her that it had nothing to do with her,
his state of mind, and how she should not bother herself with it. Oh,
how bothered was she. Oh, how hurt was she.
That
was the second time she decided to call it off and pleaded with Dean
to leave her alone if he doesn’t know what he wants or how he
feels. This time it was a lot more painful. His roots grew deeper
into her heart and became stronger, so scars and cracks he left
behind caused more pain. She can still feel it, coming back in
flashbacks. She remembers he promised to respect her wishes. But once
again, he showed only disrespect. He came back. Not because he knew
what he felt, but because he wanted to play games with her heart. He
told her how he wanted to fuck her so badly it hurt, how he couldn’t
stop thinking about her and the best blowjob of his life. Hannah
caved again. She new better, but she wanted him. She wanted him as
badly as he wanted her mouth. The day she returned from her trip, he
came over right away. He blew her mind all over again. And then he
left. That became Deans modus operandi, more or less. Come over
Saturday or Sunday morning, fuck for hour and a half and then leave.
It was so hard for Hannah not to feel insignificant and unworthy.
Then his friend died and again, he came to her because he knew she
will be there when he needs her. She tried to comfort him, listened
to him, supported him and showed him warmth and understanding. Even
while he was telling her how he believes his ex is the only one that
ever really understood him and knew him. And there Hannah was.
Getting to know his emotional being, understanding him, supporting
him and helping him, all the while being completely invisible to him.
She was unclear on if he was unaware of this or if he just didn’t
give a shit. Again, she allowed him shatter her heart.
They
played that game of his for a while. Him coming over, fucking her in
dirtiest ways possible for hour and a half, then leave. That’s when
he added a new step to the routine, the one where he would ignore her
for a couple of days after sex. She remembers that one Saturday when
he broke the routine and came over in the evening. Hannah was so full
of hope he would stay over. They fucked like crazy. First round just
as dirty and a little perverted as both of them, but the second round
was different. No toys, no perversions, no fantasies of games. Just
the two of them and great sex. And then one more moment Hannah will
never forget happened. The terror, the disgust and freak-out in
Dean’s eyes the second she asked for one simple hug will haunt her
forever. She was cold and he wouldn’t move so she could pull out
the cover from underneath him. But he couldn’t force himself to hug
her. He was half petting her like some pet and half pushing her away.
Hannah never felt so worthless. So cheap. So humiliated. Oh, how
could she ever forget. One of the deepest scars anyone has ever left
on her soul and her soul has been scared by so many before him. He
fell asleep and she was too terrified and too hurt to fall asleep
next to him. She thought about waking him up and asking him to leave,
but deep down she really wanted to wake up next to him to have some
hot, steamy, morning sex. Then midnight came and fairy tale ended in
disaster. He woke up and looked at her in a panic, freaking out about
waking up next to her. He rushed home all the while mumbling about
how this isn't about her but about him and his habits. Hannah
believed non of it.
And
she still can’t believe what he said when they talked about it. How
he surely didn’t feel any of what she saw in his eyes when she
asked for that hug. But Hannah knows what she saw. She looked into
his eyes enough times to know. Once again, Hannah decided to go
against herself and allow this game to continue. And the cycle
continued. He comes over, they fuck, he leaves and ghosts her for
days. Then one day he told her about this girl, a personal trainer,
his friend’s wife set him up with and how nothing happened between
them (for now, as he pointed out), how they were just texting and how
he is unsure because she already has a child. Again, there Hannah
was, all invisible and shit to Dean. And there he was, breaking her
heart all over again. Talking to her about this almost perfect girl
that comes nicely wrapped up in his life, a girl he sees as a
potential part of his future and how he was taking his time getting
to know her. All the while never bothering to the same with Hannah.
She tried talking to him and told him how he hurt her. She told him
all about how he makes her feel like just a meaningless side fuck to
whom he sends a message or two, with just two or three words in a
week. A place holder to kill the boredom until something better comes
along. An hour and a half a week. Like she was an escort, on a tight
schedule. That's all she was. Because he never shared any of himself
with her. She still didn’t have his number, he never told her his
last name, work place or even what neighborhood he lived in. They had
dirty, dirty, sex, played out some perverted fantasies together,
wrote each other things so dirty they would never repeat it to
anybody else. And yet that had nothing to do with the shame and
self-disgust Hannah felt in that moment. She blamed herself and him
equally.
He
kept repeating how she meant nothing to him, completely missing the
point how her feelings had nothing to do with that other woman. She
told him she needed to protect herself because he will break her
heart in millions of little pieces, even though that was a lie
because he broke her heart so many times already. She remembers
reading his text that said “that’s what worries me, the fact that
my heart is already in pieces”. Using his nickname for her, the one
she hated and has never aloud anybody to call her by, he asked her
“What is it that you want, baby?”. She wanted to scream TS’s
lyrics at him: "Don't call me "baby"! Look at this
godforsaken mess that you made me! You showed me colours you know I
can't see with anyone else! Don't call me "baby"! Look at
this idiotic fool that you made me! You taught me a secret language I
can't speak with anyone else and you know damn well, for you, I would
ruin myself a million little times!" So she told him what she
wants. Days went by without him even bothering to read it. So Hannah
deleted herself from his life. Again. Her heart still aches when she
remembers how much pain it brought her.
Once
again, Dean came back. He made a new profile on a dating app to
contact her. She was rude. In retrospect, she should’ve stayed rude
and not given him a chance to get close to her. But once again she
allowed herself to get sucked into his black hole. He talked about a
broken phone, not being able to contact her, about how desperately he
tried to find her on the app. And yet, not desperate enough to use
her phone number, which he admitted he still had. He asked if she
really believed he wouldn’t have contacted her on the phone if he
hadn’t found her on the app. Yes, she really believed that because
apparently it was easier to make a third profile and search between
thousands of profiles then to send a simple text. Well, that whole
story about profile just for her lasted ‘till next Friday. He
updated it for the hunt. Hannah is sure that sick feeling in her guts
was right. He went on a date over the weekend and it probably went
well, he probably fucked that one as well. But she is also sure sex
wasn’t even close to what they had because he came over again for a
fuck on a Tuesday. They talked a lot. She forced him to be completely
honest, to answer some questions. Like what are the feelings he
mentioned having couple of times but never identifying them, or how
does he see the two of them going forward. She was so scared to ask
if he would ever take her for a coffee to meet his friends.
Hearing
Deans answers was so fucking hard, but a little liberating as well.
He was saying how it’s natural, of course, that he developed some
feelings for her, but he can’t call it love because he doesn’t
see them together in 20 years. He had excuses about how hugging and
tenderness don’t come easily for him and it takes time for him to
feel comfortable expressing them. Hannah almost laughed at that
because it was funny how 4 months in still wasn’t enough for him to
feel comfortable giving her one single hug or one single gesture of
tenderness. She remembers how it hurt to hear him say he would never
introduce her to his friends. She was telling him about how she is
just trying to figure out her feelings because she was sure she had
strong feelings for him, but she can’t be sure if it is pure lust
or something deeper that she feel because she didn’t actually knew
him.
After
he left, Hannah was lost in thoughts for a long time. She let herself
feel the pain of his words and then the relief because she finally
knew where they stand. Conclusion was that she could keep having sex
with him until she met someone with potential for a serious
relationship. She was thinking how it would be better and easier to
fuck him (at least they made a great team on that front and fucking
him was mind-blowing) than meet random guys on the app and have
half-good or bad sex that would leave her feeling even emptier. She
wanted to believe she could just stop wanting more. She really wanted
to believe it, more than anything. Dean was really happy when she
told him her decision the next day. He came to see her the day after
that. He stayed for a long time after sex, longer than planed, and he
was late for lunch. They talked about everything. He opened up and
told her so much about himself. She was happy. She thought about
stalking him a bit over social media, but decided against it. She
liked him opening up so much that everything else seemed “empty”.
They talked almost every day over the next few weeks. He talked about
how much he want to fuck and how much he miss her physically. But he
hadn’t made an effort to come see her. And that hurt her. Again.
She was left wondering how many more times is she going to allow him
to hurt her? How many times is she going to allow him to break her
heart? When will she finally force herself to stop allowing him to
treat her like shit? Like she could never be enough. Like she means
nothing. Like she was just a toy he will throw away any day now and
never think about again.
Then
suddenly, Hannah’s uncle died and she had a really hard time. She
was in so much pain. She reached out and asked him to come over, to
be there for her as she was for him every time he needed her. His
words still resonate in her head: “Yeah, sorry, I don’t feel like
it. I’m a bit down” and the vicious circle of him causing her
even more pain continued. She tried to delete him again from her
life, mind and heart. She tried and, again, failed miserably. She sat
down and wrote him a poem:
“Craving”
My
body craves you with every cell within
My
hormones go wild from the thought of you
My
body is no longer mine when you are near
My
heart loses control and my brain shuts down
Your
body craves my lips and my flesh
But
your soul runs away from mine all the time
Your
mind never wonders where I am
And
your heart will never beat for me
So
I know I have to run and never look back
Because
my body might crave you
But
my heart can never have you
And
that breaks me every single time
My
body craves you but so does my heart
Which
you cracked thousands of times
I
know and accept it now
You
will always be just a craving unsatisfied.
******
A
week or two went by and surprise, surprise, a text came. Unknown
number and something along the line of: “Hey, I don’t think I
need to tell you who this is, I am so sorry, I treated you horribly,
I never meant to be such a scum, I know I’m piece of shit” and so
on. So, she did it again, started talking to him. He asked to come
over for coffee just to talk about things and of course she said yes
with heart full of hope that things might work out better this time
around. She will never be able to understand how she could’ve been
so foolish. He talked about how he didn’t trust her because of all
of her male friends and he doesn’t not believe in those kinds of
friendships. In retrospect, he was right from male perspective. It
turned out those friends they talked about did have hidden hopes of
friendship growing into something more. But that shouldn’t have
mattered. Hannah’s opinion and feelings were the ones that should
have mattered. The fact that she didn’t want anything but
friendship from those men should have mattered more. And although he
never said it, Hannah is sure he didn’t trust her because of the
app as well. She wondered if he remembers how she told him she
deleted everyone on the app, unmatched every guy, deleted every like
and hidden her account every time they would connect. She stopped
flirting with everyone. Dean was the one and only reason she had an
app. And Dean? Oh, he had accounts on two different apps to flirt
and text God knows how many different girls, he flirts with and texts
girls from real life, he dates and fucks others, and yet, he doesn’t
trust her. Oh, the irony of his hypocrisy. He came over again next
Saturday. Again, not much talking. It seamed as if his thoughts were
miles away. Again, incredible sex. Not even 90 minutes this time. But
to be fair, he did warn her he was short on time. She remembers
felling good and relaxed, going to make herself a cup of coffee. She
was somewhere between walking the earth and floating on a cloud. But
that bubble burst soon enough as she was standing there, naked
underneath the cardigan, with traces of him and his bodily fluids
still all over her.
Dean
was walking to his car, the one he adores more than human feelings,
he opened the door and sat down. She kept expecting him to close the
doors and leave, seeing how he was in a hurry. But he took something
from the back seat, got out and went to the trunk. Ten minutes.
That’s how long Hannah stood there observing him in disbelief. He
changed his shirt. He probably had a date afterwards. A real date. In
public. With someone acceptable. He had a cigarette. Sprayed
deodorant all over himself. He was texting someone. Even now, she
remembers every second of those ten minutes, every move he made,
every smile after reading the text on his phone. It took her probably
another half an hour to force herself to move. She stood there as if
turned to stone, only tears falling down in waterfalls showing her
body still exists in flash. Hannah really believes her heart
shattered in those moments harder than ever before. She felt
abandoned, unworthy, unimportant. She kept thinking she was made only
of flaws, as if there is not one single positive thing about her that
someone could love. She really thought she could never feel pain
worse than that.
She
tried to talk to him again. Told him how she feels. Asked him to have
an honest conversation and answer her questions if he felt even a
shred of respect for her. As always, he went out of his way to ignore
her. But how could she ask him to show her respect while
disrespecting herself by allowing him to come back again and again.
She was done with him. She deleted his number, his messages, his
profiles, the whole ritual. She had no material pictures of him to
burn. She had nothing material from him. All she ever got from him
was that little piece of hoodie rope. He tied it around his dick, as
a surprise for Hannah, supposedly to give her even greater pleasure,
but in all honesty that too was just for his own pleasure. So she
cried her eyes out as she burned the only thing tying her to him. All
he does is hurt her again and again. She still couldn’t believe
someone could treat her that horribly, break her repeatedly and cause
her so much pain intentionally. She could believe even less she could
still care for someone how did all that. How could she love him? Him,
who keeps breaking her heart, who keeps hurting her soul? She needed
him to know that finally she heard him. She heard all of his words,
spoken and hidden a like, each one cutting like a knife the very
fabric that makes her her. So now she was packing it all in a box
with a bow on top, to feel all
the pain he has
caused as she
prepares
to say goodbye.
Read about how Hannah's and Dean's story end in part II
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