When you communicate your sexual boundaries and they don’t listen.
You said: Trust me.
You were good about asking, until you weren’t.
Until you got carried away.
But it was as if you hadn’t heard me all along.
You didn’t listen because you didn’t want to hear.
You wanted me to get carried away. Because you were.
I said: We have all the time in the world – don’t force this.
You couldn’t help yourself.
Stop yourself.
Control yourself.
(How fucking old are you? You can’t make these mistakes anymore.)
You pushed.
Then I stopped.
Something snapped.
I was in a daze.
My head was scrambled.
You said: speak to me.
I couldn’t get the words out.
I couldn’t look at you.
You said: I’d like to see you again, but I’m not sure you do after what just happened.
I said: I don’t know
I left.
I didn’t want to sleep with you. Yet.
I made it clear.
It doesn’t matter why.
You shouldn’t ask why.
It doesn’t matter why.
You barely know me.
Don’t assume.
Don’t presume.
You said: I’m sorry.
Thank you. Really. But I think it’s too late.
You said: Ride my cock.
I said: I’m not going to ride your cock.
You said it again.
What was not clear the first time?
Seriously?
Again?
When I stopped, you asked if that was too much.
You meant, if the way you asked was too much –
not if what you were asking was too much.
I wonder whether you think it was my fault.
I wonder whether you think: She should’ve stopped me earlier
When I took off her pants,
When I took off her undies,
When I went down on her,
But then she went down on me…
Where is the line?
When is it crossed?
I guess you only know when it’s too late.
I stopped.
I probably wouldn’t have a year ago.
I’m proud of myself. Really.
I wanted to believe you could stop.
That you could restrain yourself.
At 52.
Seriously?
Was I naive?
Maybe.
But you said: Trust me.
And I wanted to trust you and you let me down.
Maybe it was an unfair trust test.
But it let me see who you really are.
And now it’s too late.
Now I see.
I wanted to talk about it. In person.
It felt important.
To me.
For you.
For all women who have been in this situation before.
You agreed.
You showed up. Apologised. Owned it. Took full responsibility.
You were humbled. Vulnerable.
It was awkward. I was impressed.
I expressed myself freely.
I re-evaluated.
I decided to give you another chance.
One week later
You said: Can I touch you here?
I said: No, not today.
Fifteen minutes later you tried again.
I moved your hand.
You didn’t even realise what you had done.
Again.
This time you didn’t apologise.
This time it was over.
Thank you for this opportunity
To see how far I have come.
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