See the very next day, Mr TakeMe got back together with his ex. This is a pattern now. Every time we get close and have a “date-like” time together and he starts to have feelings… he runs back to her.
And I am done with it.
However, all the sex has also dropped me a dress size.. so I decided yesterday to forgive him sort of.
I decided to never take him seriously about his affections for me. Ever. But if we happened to want sex at the same time, I’m open to fucking the pounds away.
So last night I saw him after a few days of not talking. Well a couple days anyway. It was a really good couple days.
We talked a bit. Hugged. Parted.
Then saw each other later at another place. Said hi. Talked a bit, but this time I had other people I wanted to stoke the fires of possible actual relationship material.
He wasn’t exactly pleased. Because as the more he drinks, the more attached he becomes to me. Accused me of flirting with 3 men other than him (duh) and how he just wanted to seduce me and take me home. Poor guy (cry me river plays in the background).
He cryptically messaged me that he had a secret he hadn’t told me but would some day.
Then the bars closed, and since all my current interests are long term plans.. I didn’t have anything else to do but sleep.. so I messaged Mr TakeMe about fucking.
Long story short, we met up at his place for supposed sex. That is not what went down.
We get there. Everything is fine. We’re flirting and doing the normal pre-sex stuff. He brought food for him (he asked via text but I didn’t want anything. Eww McDonalds) and was eating it.. and I decided to get undressed and wait.
Then he said, here come read this. This is my secret.
I got up and he handed me his phone opened to an email. I started reading it. It said nothing.
Turns out I didn’t scroll up on the email like I should have. I assumed he’d started the view where I needed to read.
He has thoracic cancer. He went in for testing about when we first met. He’s just now starting to talk about it with people.
We talked a bit about it, and he broke down. He’s barely holding things together, and the kind of friends that bar hoppers usually have.. are not the friends that usually support you in these kinds of struggles.
So I know he needs me even if he doesn’t deserve me.
He doesn’t want to put anyone else through him going through chemo. He doesn’t want to die. He cried about wanting to see his boys grow up and be there for them. He cried about missing work (his work is a manual labor type job) and fears of being fired.
He doesn’t have a prognosis yet. He said 22 days before more testing, and then he’ll get results.
I slept on this before posting here, but last night I was gutted. Devastated. Overwhelmed. I don’t think I can sit by and watch him die… but I also couldn’t live with myself if he went through this alone.
So we’ll see what happens. Part of me wants to offer to have him live in my spare room while he goes through this and be his nurse-maid if needed, and part of me just wants to sit back and be “on call” in case he needs something but keep an arms length.
We fooled around a big after that. His choice. His desire. I think he felt obligated to make me orgasm, because it was all about me.. more than it has ever been before. And when he was done, he was flaccid (he’s never ever been flaccid during sexual activity). I tried to return the favor, but he really just wanted cuddles. So we cuddled and I tried to keep it together.
He quickly fell asleep. I tucked him in and locked the door on my way out.
I cried the entire way home.