by Jess Kolbe
HIM | Thirty-six
Things were going so well! My brain runs this on repeat. I’ve been blind-sided by Evie, fuck it. The morning was ideal, what happened in the café, the day had felt so right. She’s helped me to open up and now I feel shut out, confused and trapped. Fuck. I hate these feelings. What happened? I don’t understand, and I’m terrified I’ve done something horribly wrong and have no idea what.
Perhaps we did push things too much last night and today?
My thoughts are crazily panicked, and I am blowing everything out of proportion. I can fix this. My brain thinks up a thousand ways to ask her what happened? All of them provoke more anxiety. Wait, just wait for her. I had a freak out, this is hers. Yes, wait, slow it down and let her speak.
In the car, we are both overwhelmed by the tension in the air. She begins to speak, and her panic overwhelms me too. I’m somewhat relieved she’s panicking as well because I am freaking the fuck out over here.
She’s confused? Not about me? It wasn’t what she was meant to say?
She is becoming more and more agitated and having a panic attack, maybe. I reach for her, trying to help. She pushes me away. I feel rejected and hurt, desperately trying to listen to her and push my own feelings down, so I can just be here. I want to be here for her. I’m frustrated that she won’t let me speak but know I must be careful with her.
Fuck, just say it! Stop trying to be careful with me!
Evie is again telling me what my feelings are about what is happening, being careful with me. I get it, it’s her way of protecting me, but I don’t need protecting from her. My thoughts are running high. I’m trying to listen to her and also ridiculously gripping the steering wheel like it will break off any minute now. After what we had talked about and being so vulnerable in sharing ourselves, I’m not sure what the fuck happened or how we even got here! I feel so fucking inadequate right now. Dread churns up my stomach, reminding me of being helpless again. Someone I love is hurting and I’m fucking useless. Steadying myself and forcing myself to focus on Evie. Steady, be here, just wait. I am coaching myself to prevent rage from coming out, and to stay focused on her, not my emotional responses right now. I reach over, placing my hand on her thigh. I just focus on feeling her skin, on loving this part of her as best as I can. Letting her know I am here but not taking over, just witnessing her in pain. I focus on what she did for me and to be solid next to her. The sensations of her shaking under my hand, heat rising through my fingers and I’m helpless to do anything. The palm of my hand fills with sweat, sickness fills the pit of my stomach, desperate to stop the situation. I can’t control this, no matter how much I need to fix it for her. I know I can’t but knowing this is not fucking helping at all. I listen, feeling defeated by my inadequacies. I listen and try to be gentle with her, holding my sweaty hand on her leg. Slowly, Evie begins to shift out of panic, and slowly she also begins to make some sense. She feels overwhelmed and I think it is strange for her to love me or receive love, so she needs time with it!
‘Fuck,’ I think. This is so hard. It hurts my brain trying to make sense of what is happening. I’m doing my best, I think. I want us to work so I have to learn what she needs not what I need for her, to learn how to love her, just as she is learning how to love me. Fuck, it is accepting our fucking freak outs, best guess. I want her to need me. It’s so hard, she has a right to her feelings, and I think they are coming out wrong because of how I’m reacting. I want to fix us, not even sure we are even broken, although it sure feels pretty dreadful. Knowing this and not knowing what the fuck to do is driving me bonkers. I do feel rejected although not comfortable to tell Evie, ever. She moves my hand to her heart and I’m so relieved to feel close to her. Her touch eases the tension, it’s not me. My god I think I love this woman, even now in this moment, she is striking beautiful and her resolve indescribable.
Evie starts trying to be gentle in explaining things to me. It’s agonisingly frustrating and like I’m this fragile little boy. I need her to stop, just stop filling the air with words!
“It’s okay, I don’t understand, but it’s okay!” I snap at her. Fuck, I should have done that differently, but fuck, someone needed to stop the out of control train. I tell her I’m in, like truly in with us, and what we are, even in this. Whatever this is right now. I’m in, Evie. I’m not fucking going anywhere. I tell her to tell me or not tell me what is happening. I trust her. It won’t change anything for me. Please stop being careful with me. We are different and that’s what I want! I know we have to figure things out for ourselves and together. Our histories are different and that is okay. I flash her a smile and begin driving towards her house, not sure this is the right path, but it feels okay. I walk her to the door and hold her tightly, kissing her hands, face and lips so she knows how I feel and that I am in, even in whatever this is. I trust her. I tell Evie, perhaps a little too firmly, that one day she will do this with me, and she will let me hold all of her while she does what she needs to.
HER | Thirty-seven
Sitting across the table from Sam, who is now looking at his food in the same way as he looks at me, fills my soul with joy. Watching him eat, I’m overwhelmed by happiness. He catches my eye, which are glassy with happy tears. I beam a smile at him as he chews. He says, “eat, you will need it!” That cheeky smile is plastered all over his face. I look at him in delight as a lump lodges in my throat. Naturally my hips defy me, responding to his call, his lust caressing them under the table. I take a deep breath and the shithead loves it, pulling my body back to myself.
“Sam, I need to go home. I need to check in with myself, I need to spend a little time trying on this unleashed woman, time with these unfolding emotions. I want to soak me, in my tub, nourish my body, cleanse and soothe my aching thighs, soak my tender lady parts, try out this skin that has awakened from within me. I need to consolidate, I need time. I feel ever so deeply, please let me feel this and allow the time for me to grow into this woman.” Well, that is what I was trying to say, what I wanted to express. What came out of my mouth was not that. It was stupid and fear based.
Why did I fucking do that? Where did it even come from?
I’m happy, what am I doing?
Sam’s wounded eyes burn into me. He closed off to me immediately, and the energy that was freely dancing around us is now closed, shut off like a slammed door. The life force feels like it is draining from me now, and I’m panicked?
I just sabotaged us.
Or do I feel uncomfortable with feeling happy and had to ruin it?
I don’t even understand myself. I want to scream, tear at myself, as the energy shifts into a gaping hole developing between us. I just… I need some time, make it stop, make it stop! Help! Now we are being polite and withdrawn with each other and it feels terrible. This is not us, not after all we have been through. Sam’s driving me home after silently retrieving his car from the pub and we are hurt. Quiet in our own hurt feelings. He’s confused, I’m confused, and I don’t know why I’m not expressing myself well.
I say. “Sam, I’m not coming across well.” I nervously start giggling. He looks at me with so much intensity. I say, “Sam, this is not what I meant! Panic set in. I know crazy, like I just wanted to tell you what’s happening for me and this crazy ‘I need some space’ comes out, from nowhere. I am sorry I hurt you.”
The solid wedge in my throat is now the size of a fucking tennis ball! It’s making my voice scratchy. I swallow hard and put my hands under my legs, feeling cold sweat pouring over me. Sam realizes I am not okay and pulls the car over. The heat is rising in my body, and my heart has gone from racing to thumping in my throat. No more thinking is occurring, my body is seized in fear, screaming loudly in a full-scale panic attack. I allow the waves to rise, trying to match my breathing with the intensity of my heart, desperately trying to focus on my bodily sensations while my hurricane watches on, attempting to help me. The panic passes in sweat, heart thumping tremors, heat, muscle strain, and coolness.
I feel into the space that is my body in fear, my body screaming at me. I squeeze my legs together tightly and finally say out loud: “Please don’t fuck this up.”
Sam reaches for me. The panic is clear in my voice. He wants to nurture me, to help me.
“Wait,” I say. “Please let me get this out.” He sits back and waits. He’s frustrated with me. I can see that clearly, maybe he’s scared of what ridiculous crap will fall out of my mouth next? I’m scared of what is going to fall out of my mouth next! He places his hand on my leg and looks out the front window. I search for the words, busy breathing and arguing with my thoughts before fear launches another full-scale attack on me. I allow the waves to pour over me, accepting the fears and panic while it all floods out of me: how I want to nurture my body; how I want to spend time with the parts of me that I never knew existed; how the unleashing of me, with waves of mental and physical exhaustion, allows my panic to subside; how I want to love him, saviour him, this moment, our growth together, my body changes; how I feel; how he is mine as he’s claimed me. I have him, in the depths of my heart, the corners of my body and the mysteries of my mind. I’m badly trying to convey my feelings in words to take back how I wounded him.
“It’s all trying to consolidate, within my heart, body and mind while you love me ever so loudly and I want to feel it. All of us, not get lost in you. So, I need to surrender to it and rise as me. I need time to step into that woman, to feel this new vulnerable skin that surrounds me and continue to prepare for us and how we will evolve, whatever that may be. It’s been massive. I’m not sure, but I also think at the restaurant I felt happy and content and I freaked out. I need to bring all of this together in my head and heart. I need some time to scream in a paddock, fuck… and for you to not see the batshit crazy hormonal lady that you had lunch with today.”
Sam finally speaks. “Evie, I’m relieved but I don’t understand… I appreciate you telling me, I trust you, you need to trust me, if this is going to work.” He looks away. I breathe loudly.
My fear speaks. “I can feel this,” hand gesturing to space between us, “this haemorrhaging hole, building here. Right here.” He looks at me again.
I rush to plug the hole. “I do. Completely! I do trust you, like I’ve never trusted anyone before!” I’m frantic. Moving his hand from my thigh to my heart, I continue. “I want to be honest with you and I’m trying! We both have histories we are fighting and a world of emotions. Fear is completely operating the show that is me right now. I’m anxiously searching for reassurance that this man will not run from my fear show. I don’t want you to feel rejected by me, or wounded, I don’t ever want you to look at me like that again, I can’t help how I feel and the ways in which I work through them, I know what works for me!” Breathe.
“I know I showed up in fear. I’m not really operating on all cylinders right now, clearly. I understand that we are both feeling a lot of emotions and I will continue to be honest and try to share what I’m feeling, like last night, I was so overcome and I’m not completely sure I’m finished, I feel so raw. I am sorry, that hurt you and I will try to just tell you minus the freak out about what is happening for me. It feels like my brain is being operated by someone else with all this rambling to justify bullshit that hurt came out of my mouth, I freaked, and fuck I’m sorry. Please, stop speaking. I know ridiculous is pouring out of me right now without a filter or ability to stop. I want you to do the same, even if you know it will hurt me, we need to be honest.”
He nods in agreement.
“Sam, you are all that I have ever wished for, when I never really knew what I wished for until you showed up! Literally, you are more than I could ever have hoped for.”
He reaches for me, and I let him hold me. I want to push him away, but I don’t. “Sam, please. I need to finish, to get this out of my head, for us to be healthy. I need me to be truthful. You know I need to share some things with you and I’m trying to be ready. It means that sometimes fear controls me without a lot of reason and then I have to work backwards to figure out what I am battling. I am trying as hard as I can. I just never want you to see me do it. I hope that’s okay, I don’t want us to change. I want us to grow together, to evolve on a solid foundation!”
My thoughts keep falling out of my mouth, as if trying to clean up the road train that has already crashed…
“Stop, fucking stop!” Sam shouts from behind gritted teeth, both hands now on the steering wheel, knuckles white, like he will break it off. Thank God he is stopping me. He’s angry. Oh God he’s going to leave! I’m too much, fuck, fuck, I’m frozen in fear, waiting for his next words, although grateful someone stopped my crazy train.
“Evie.” There are tears in his eyes. “I’m in this. I understand, I’m having some crazy shit happening over here too. My emotions are fucking bonkers. Stop waiting for me to fucking leave! I would have left already! I feel us also. We do need to listen to ourselves and our needs, and I hear you need time! Stop thinking you have to be careful of me! Be you! I won’t let you down, let the chips fall where they fucking fall. I know you have some important things you want to tell me, and I want you to, whatever it is, but only when you are ready to tell me. I trust you.”
Tears are streaming down my face. Sam continues. “Nothing about us has been normal, Evie. That’s why I’m here!” He turns and looks at me. “That’s why you feel so different, that’s why I want you, even with your crazy ramblings, but don’t work me.”
He smiles with the cheekiest of smiles while kissing the back of my hand and squeezing my thigh, he tells me to nurture myself, prepare my body for him because we will together explore her limits, bringing the same intensity. The tennis ball lump in my throat is instantly back.
I muster a quiet. “Please.”
Sam slides the car into gear, and we are off again. The gentleman opens my door, aids my hips in getting out of the car, walks me inside, kisses me so I will remember the taste of him for days before leaving. As soon as he’s gone, I feel the emptiness of my home without him.
I stand naked in front of the mirror, reacquainting myself with my body, feeling my body and the momentary loss I feel from him walking out the door. I smile at the anticipation of his promise. As I’m tracing the newness of my body, feeling his hands on me, I realise he is embedded in my soul. My everything is raw, so very achy and in dire need of Sam. I can’t have him be my emotional crutch, I need to do this for myself first. Tears begin to fall. I think thoughts about how much I trust him, how he brings lightness to my soul. Feeling happiness at my emotional nakedness, laughter at my boldness, comfort in his protection, while creating space for me to unleash, to feel the full power of his love and the love that exists within me.
I think, I felt content, like I was experiencing happiness at the restaurant and I went a bit cuckoo bananas. Warmth creeps over me, from the inside out, like never before. I can only describe it as my soul’s smile, the recognition in my own capacity to love, shared, the trust I have in my own love, vulnerability expressed and held. The enormity of what has grown within me and between us dawns on me in a wave of emotion encompassing my body in the experience of love. I step myself in to my version of solace: a hot bath, candles, and music. Soft waves of emotion pass over me and I feel the excitement and gratitude of felt love, of receiving and in letting go.
I focus on me, gently feeling each part of my body. I feel into my legs, starting with my calves. Massaging, asking my body to soften, to feel rejuvenated, then my arms, neck and shoulders. Welcoming this new connection to myself. Nurturing and holding all of me. I leave my thighs, hips and lady parts till last, the most sensitive, encouraging and thanking those parts of my body, to be soothed, to embrace the aching of my sex, my warrior woman, soothing all of my parts that showed up in love, with love, accepted and self-appreciation for the gift that stood forward and is now awakened with me. I really like her, this Evie. I want to step my life forward with her. I’ve found within me such courage, self-trust, and a self-love l
ike no other. It is like I am standing tall for the first time. I’m overcome with gratitude and a grateful heart that is healing from love, I am free, I am free. I reach for my phone, take a picture of my legs and send it to Sam. I caption it: Dinner tomorrow, legs or thighs?
He responds immediately. It’s a picture of his legs and a toothbrush emoji: Two can play at this game.
I soak in the warmth of my bath, the feel of my man’s response. Closing my eyes. I feel him everywhere, hear his voice, that laugh he has, a strange chuckle alongside an epic smile, that feels like home. His firm heart beating against mine, heart to heart, finding their connected flow. Strong arms holding me in place, a genuine heartfelt embrace. His face, rugged, that shows a story, a lived life and a softness for me. I now understand his hesitation at the beginning of us, when he’s in, he is all in. I ponder the thoughts that float by in my head. Some are completely ridiculous, some in anticipation of him, some in dread of the day I tell him my story, some of our wedding, our children, my crazy. It’s all, welcomed, allowing all of this to roll on by, like a TV commercial, paying little attention. I put myself to bed, quivering at the thought of my man putting me to bed like he did last night. Nourishing myself in tenderness and lovingly feeling the skin of this warrior woman. I feel like I am visualizing my little girl inside all grown up, standing alongside my warrior self, all coming together within me as one and standing tall.
I’ve finished preparing for dinner. Why am I feeling so anxious? How lovely does it feel at the same time? I literally sink back into myself and the space of nervous anticipation reminding myself how grateful I am. Giving myself permission to savour the feeling as good, to enjoy the mood. My skin feels tingly, I feel the excitement in the air. I hear the door as he walks in. I have to stop myself from running to him. I can hear his sexy swagger, the man strut, as you know, I love when a man swings his hips for me, it is more of a flaunt than a swing.