The second sex post

You read right. If you’re shy, look away now. Although, being honest, it’s probably a 12 rating at best.

My last, and ironically first, sex post charted unknown territory – phone sex. What a success that was! We have partook in that particular activity a few times now. Honestly, not as often as part of me would like.

The last time, we ended with our usual kisses and I love you’s and he said he would call later. Except later turned out to be about five minutes or so later. And I was still a little flushed. We laughed about it and he called me his bad girl. I suppose it is bad but it’s soooo good too.

But as I said, the problem is now that every time he calls me – rather than video chat – which he has taken to doing some mornings, my body kind of expects it to happen again. His voice does delicious things to me anyway but then the memory of past experiences… Well, you get the idea. So, I’m on the phone in eager anticipation. He’s half asleep and talking sporadically, and then the call ends. I’ve no idea if he’s waiting for me to start, if he isn’t interested or what. I don’t expect it every time but, you know, now and again would be very nice.

And this week it has got worse. I’m not sure if it is because I should have been with him this week but… He is just taking my breath away. Videochat camera opens and bang… Instant physical and uncontrolled reaction. It doesn’t matter what he’s doing. I’ve said it before, he often calls me as he is going about his every day chores. Like washing when he comes in from the outside, me propped up against the mirror. Or when he is on his laptop, listening to music. It doesn’t matter what he is doing. It just hits me: my breath catches, my heart bounds, my stomach flips. Sometimes he is oblivious to what’s going on in my head and he asks me why I am looking at him like that. I tell him I’m just loving him or I tell the truth sometimes and says he looks good (which he then denies). Other times he is well aware of the effect we are having on each other and he quickly snaps us both out of it (erm, phone sex???)

This week I can’t seem to get through a call without it happening. And the problem is, I’m having to avert my gaze to hide it. It’s the only way I can hide my amorous and uncontrolled reactions and not come across as completely sex crazed. (Which I’m beginning to think I am.) But then, he thinks something is wrong or I’m bored which means he either starts asking what’s bothering me or ends the call. Neither reaction the one I’m wanting. So whilst I’m happy that I’m starting to be able to hide my desire from my far too readable face, I’ve got to find a way of being able to do that whilst still looking at him. Sigh.

I suppose this is really normal in the context of a new relationship. If we lived closer and were having actual dates then I guess quite a few of them – OK, all of them – would end up in the bedroom.

My goodness, long distance relationships are hard.


The sharing, the look, the love.

The share… A mixture of feelings. Intrepidation as I walk through the garden because I try to see it with fresh eyes, their eyes. I want them to love it which is bizarre in itself as they may never get to see it in person. A sobering thought.

After, I hastily show them as it was: pictures of long ago, of a time when my father would be seen daily with his hoe or his wheelbarrow. His mother smiles and compliments and I am happy.

What are they thinking? Why does it matter so much? Why did he want me to show them?

The call ends, for now.

The look… Later, we are laughing again. He pauses in his mimicry and mischievousness to look at me, eyes crinkled in a smile. I know that look, love that look, as I know it mirrors mine. He disappears for a moment and then when he returns I watch him. I’m always watching him.

He’s preparing some food and whilst he does, a look of such intensity passes his face. In the hours and hours of my study of his face this look is new. At first it excites: it shows off his deep dark eyes well, his full lips pursed invitingly. But, within moments, my attraction is forgotten. I sense that this face is not as it should be.

I ask if he is OK, and he says yes but I know better.

We walk to his room and he lies down, his head resting on his hand, on his pillow. There is sadness on his face.

And so the dance begins… The to and fro, the questions and answers, the hiding and seeking. Eventually he tells me.

As he was talking with me, he had remembered something he had watched on the news earlier that day. It had come to him and replayed in his mind and had made him sad. He asked if I wanted to see and I agreed because I wanted to understand this transformation in him.

I watch. The boy, small and slight, frightened and alone, is led out of the house. The picture is fuzzy but you can see the little mask on his face. The paramedics are gentle, caring, as he is lifted into the ambulance. Another follows with his bags. Despite this care, there is the knowledge that this little boy is now alone, at 4 years, carrying a virus that he may not survive.

My heart aches for the boy. As a mother…as a human being, you cannot help be touched by that video and all its implications.

But my heart aches for my man too. For his grief. For the way the memory of that video could transform him, so quickly. My heart fills with love for this affectionate and compassionate man and I wish, more than anything, that I could be with him so that my love could pour into him and soothe his pain.

Another day, another ending.

The share… He is lying on his bed again and we are talking. His mother enters and sits with him. He begins to translate. I watch his face as he turns to her, listens, concentrating, and I can hear the lilt and tumble of those words and sounds that I can not understand but love so much. He turns to me then and translates and I write down his instructions.

This carries on for a little while. Occasionally I ask questions, sometimes he mimes to clarify. I’m filled with pride for him as he explains in a language he claims he is not good at but I know better. Hours of us talking every day have helped him and I am proud of that too. Equally though, I can see the concentration on his face and the occasional frustration too.

“You know I get nervous when I have to talk like that and I am trying to listen to my mother and then find the words to tell you. It’s exhausting.” He sees my smile, my laugh and says “but you like it though, don’t you? You like seeing me like that?” He laughs himself but the chance to reply or explain is taken from me as the call has to end abruptly.

The look… Later. Another call. Laughter, laughter, laughter. My sides ache, tears run down my face… And yet, I still see that moment. The moment when he is laughing too, uncontrollably, so much so that he pauses his performance and we just laugh together.

And although he is laughing too, I know this is all for me. I see it in the way he watches me, his smiles at my laughter. He continues until I can barely breathe.

But then he tires and so do I. The joking slows. His head rests on his hand, on his pillow. And at that moment I am overwhelmed. He looks at me with such intensity and love. My heart fills with love and it aches to be near him, my body to touch him, my love to pour into him. I’ve never wanted him so much in all our time together… Our bodies and souls to connect physically as they have just done mentally in our shared laughter.

“What’s this face? I’ve not seen this face before. Tell me what’s on your mind..” and the dance begins, the to and the fro, the questions and answers. I don’t tell him but the explanation is not needed anyway. Within seconds he tells me: knowing me and reading me with ease, as he always does.

As the day before, the call ends with love.

“I love you, so much baby” His voice is soft and a little gruff and the sound and sight of his kisses threaten to overwhelm me.

He watches and waits for mine and I send them, my heart and soul willing for the magic to transport the gesture over time and place so he may feel just a little of what I feel for him.

The calm after the storm

I can only hope that the ‘jealousy’ incident a few days ago and our conversation about it has made us stronger. It certainly appears that way.

I don’t know whether it is me or him but things have shifted again but for the better.

Since my own self reflection and processing, I’ve tried really hard to be positive and to stop my anxious thoughts in their tracks. I’ve definitely felt happier, if you can in these weird circumstances across the world, and have tried to smile more and laugh more. Any time something has happened which starts an anxious and jealous ruminating, I’ve repeated my mantra in my head or re-read my own post. It’s working so far.

As you know, I rarely believe that coincidences are coincidental… A couple of nights ago, whilst I was trying to process all this, I received a private message on Facebook. It was from a man that I have ‘befriended’ through a group we both follow. He is his 60s so I’m guessing he is not after anything romantic (!?) but rather that he is lonely. He’s from Germany so the conversation was a little stilted as we both referred to online translators. We talked about this and that – our dogs, Coronavirus etc etc. But then he commented on my profile picture. He said that I was a pretty woman with a beautiful smile and that I should smile more. I was a little taken aback. I wondered whether this was translation gone wrong. I questioned him a little more – he apologised for his directness and has since done so again – but said that my pictures had contained less smiling recently. The next day he apologised again for his directness. He’s told me that he has a brain tumour and so no longer feels the need to guard what he says as much. Sure, there are a few alarm bells ringing here and I’m thinking he’s just a lonely man needing some online community in this challenging time, rather than someone mercenary.

But even if he isn’t, his comments made me reflect on myself in the past few weeks. I do need to smile more. Even when there isn’t much to smile about. And so I have: I’ve pushed away the smile-crushing negatives as best I can and therefore have been/appeared/felt happier.

And either because of that, or because we talked about it, Wild Card has seemed more affectionate. I’m still getting the same amount of time and calls but more verbal affection – a few little compliments subtly given and many more ‘I love you’s. He is still being his cheeky and teasing self but I wouldn’t want it any other way – we appear to have the right balance at the moment. Long may it continue.

I’m OK.

I am, honestly. But I will warn you, this post is a long one.

He did enough with the unexpected phonecall last night to actually talk about our ‘problem‘ and then his texts and calls today put my mind at relative ease as things are back to normal.

I’ve done as any good English teacher would do and I’ve spent some of my day reading about ‘anxiety in relationships’.

There are some good articles out there and they did put my mind at rest somewhat. They talked about the need to process what might be causing the anxiety as well as reasurring you that some anxiety is normal. Note the word ‘some’ though.

Anyone who has read my blog for a little while will know that I suffer from anxiety anyway. And we are all on edge at the moment. Plus I’m in a new relationship. And it’s long distance. Which is new to me. And I’m absolutely in love with him. Yep, a pretty toxic mix of anxiety-causing factors there. So first of all, I’m going to give myself a break.

Now. Processing time. Again, readers of my blog will know that I do this: I think (probably too much) and I process. Often I find the answers I need. Sometimes I manage to follow them for a little while. It’s the constancy that’s the issue.

One article talks about the negative impact of previous relationships:

So, I can put a ‘hell yes’ next to every one of those. Not bad for a woman who has had four and a half relationships. Is it any wonder I’m a mess? First boyfriend probably cheated on me. He certainly did number two and three before I finally got shut of him. Lost Soul (my half of a relationship which says it all) did two and three. My husband? Well, he doesn’t quite fit into any but he lied repeatedly and I felt that he didn’t love me as much as he should have done. Although, you can say the same about my feelings for him. You can read about my previous failed relationships in earlier posts.

So all of that is equating to a lot of hurt and distrust. And whilst I loved most of them, I have not felt as I feel now for Wild Card, except perhaps for Lost Soul in the beginning.

Self esteem: Well, I haven’t got much. Probably because of the above and the fact that I have been very overweight for most of my adult life. I’ve been told I’m pretty but I don’t trust people because I feel they say that as a softener for the fact I am big. Sure, I’ve lost three and a half stone but I probably need to lose the same again to be classed as the right weight.

Questioning: Yep, I question everything. A lot. I overthink, a lot. Everything thing he says or does, doesn’t say or doesn’t do, gets heavily processed in my brain. We all know that anxiety impairs your ability to think properly. Overthinking can lead you down the wrong path. I’ve got to keep with the facts and stop ruminating with ‘what ifs’.

Another article talks about taking your fears and considering how your thoughts have created the anxiety but then how they can quell it. Here goes:

How my thoughts support my fears: You can never truly know how someone feels – you only know as much as they care to show and share with you. Even then they can lie. He may hurt me. He may lie. He may cheat. But he also might not and worrying about it isn’t going to make it any less likely. If it’s going to happen, it will happen. That’s his choice. I’m pretty sure he wishes I was thinner, although I know he likes my bottom. And my eyes and lips. And hair. And smile come to think about it. (oops this should be in the other section). He does make me jealous, sometimes on purpose. He teases and jokes. It’s part of who he is. But also, there is a place for my jealousy. He is a very attractive, younger, single man. I’m not the easy option and probably not the best, if I am being honest. And he is honest with me, perhaps too much. He’s told me things about past girlfriends to be honest with me but then fails to see how this then affects me. He’s done it today – mystery caller has turned out to be his ex.

How my thoughts go against my fears: I have no evidence that he has cheated or will cheat. He has strong feelings about monogomy so I have to hope that it goes for him too. He’s always been very honest about the nature of our relationship as he is very aware of our cultural differences. I have to trust that is because he is serious. And his feelings? He tells me he loves me regularly and if the amount of attention and time are anything to go by, it’s clear that he feels something. If he wasn’t attracted to me, he wouldn’t be with me. That man is delicious and I have no doubts that there are some very beautiful women who like him. But he is with me: he is pursuing me. That has to count for something. (and he likes my bottom, eyes, lips, smile and hair. ) I know then he’s making me jealous to tease. It’s obvious. I know he is joking. I’ve just got to stop my mind from twisting what I know is a joke into something it isn’t.

And I know when he is being sincere. I know by the way he talks and how he looks. He told me about his ex calling today so that I would stop thinking it was another girl. (!) I know that. When he questioned my being quiet (goddam him, I really tried to act normal) I simply asked what he had said to her. They had ‘chit chat’ apparently. He told me to not think about it as it was nothing. As our conversation ended he brought it up again, telling me not to be sad as it was nothing. He always soothes me at the end of a call if I have shown any anxiety or stress about anything (none him-related stuff too) and it’s one of the ways he shows he cares. He would not have told me about her calling or tried to make me feel better if it was anything to worry about.

Ultimately, my anxiety is making this relationship unhappy. My anxiety. I’ve got to trust him, otherwise, what is the point? If I trust him and he breaks that trust then he wasn’t worth it anyway. If I don’t trust him then it will be me who could destroy this. It has to stop.

Flaws and feelings

The last few days have been tough.

First, let’s put this into perspective.

Not only do I have PMT, I’m also naturally anxious when it comes to Wild Card. I’ve been on edge even more as I’ve waited and obsessed on whether I will be visiting him again soon. I get jealous easily and often fear that he is with or will find someone else, someone better than me.

He is naturally jealous too and our cultural differences often augment this.

From experience, the initial honeymoon period ends at around month 3 or 4. Which is where we are.

And then, of course, there is the well documented and natural feelings of insecurity and jealousy created from a long distance relationship (LDR).

No one is perfect. I certainly haven’t been over the past four months, even if some of it I may have been able to hide from him. Maybe.

He has his flaws, his imperfections, like anyone else.

Monday night I had my children back. I left work reasonably early for a change. When I got home, it was a mad dash as always – sort the dogs out, make the fire, make the tea, tidy up, stop the kids from squabbling. An hour and half later, I finally sat down with a cup of tea. It was 6pm.

I could have messaged him, but I didn’t. I wanted to. I can’t even explain my thought processes to you because I don’t know what I was thinking myself. I wanted him to call me. I started writing my blog and decided that I would call if he hadn’t, at 6.30pm.

Just as I was about to call, he called me. He asked when I had got home and when I told him he was put out. Why hadn’t I called or messaged him, was I not thinking about him? I explained that I was just about to, but he wasn’t happy.

Honestly, I don’t know how much of this was him joking and teasing and how much of it was genuine. I think it was probably both. But he wouldn’t let it lie.

This is one trait of his personality I have discovered – he has no stop button. He doesn’t always get the signals of when to stop. So when he makes me laugh, he will keep doing what he is doing for an hour, say. If he is joking with me, it will carry on likewise.

Again putting things into context, he probably gets in contact more than me. He will call me in the car or when he’s just arrived home and I will watch him change or even wash his face. I’ve watched him cook and eat, many times. I’ve listened to him talk to his family. He makes me a part of the every-day. I, on the other hand, tend to wait for a moment when I can just stop and focus on him. I rarely do anything but sit and talk to him when we are on video chat. So, in reflection, I get where he was coming from.

Nonetheless, it got to the point where he was saying that he clearly meant ‘nothing’ to me. And that’s when I started crying.

He changed immediately, telling me to stop and to forget what he had said it was ‘only talking’. He asked why I cried and I replied that it was because I had hurt him – I could see no other reason why he would even think that he was nothing to me. He said I hadn’t hurt him, to forget about it. He said that he loved me, over and over, sent me kisses and told me that he was getting upset too.

My children were calling for me at this point so he told me to go to them and we would talk later.

Unfortunately, my son had noticed I was upset and in the end, I took the opportunity to tell him about Wild Card. Whilst his reaction was not like my daughter’s initially, he did say that he really liked Wild Card and felt they had things in common.

I put my youngest to bed and then, as I left the room, took my phone out of my pocket to call him. It had been just over an hour since we had spoke. But as I pulled my phone out, I heard the familiar ping of Messenger. Problem was, there clearly hadn’t been signal on my phone for some time and the pings indicated that he had tried to call three times some half an hour ago. Knowing him, I knew he would have jumped to conclusions too. He’d upset me and then I had ‘ignored’ his calls.

I immediately called back and my instinct was right. At first he wouldn’t talk to me. I tried to ask whether the calls had connected and told him what had happened but he was beyond listening at this point. He has been like this once before for a similar reason and is clearly a trigger for him of some sort. We had a brief chat and I told him that my son knew the truth now too and that he liked him.

At this point my son came in to the room and Wild Card turned back into his usual charming self. He had a great chat with him and talked about us all visiting and the things they would do together as ‘men’, no girls allowed. My son was so excited and when Wild Card said why, he said because he wanted to meet him. Wild Card relied, ‘I want to meet you too’. It was a proper heart swell moment, and I could see how much it meant to Wild Card that my son was so excited.

When my son left though, I got the sullen treatment again. I again asked what was wrong but he wouldn’t elaborate. I tried to explain that there was no way that I would have ignored him and how he meant everything to me. He asked me to explain which I tried but couldn’t.

I woke in the morning, still with a slight sense of unease. So, I sent him a good morning text, telling him how much he meant to me. How he was my everything, not my nothing.

He responded with multiple love emojis and I felt like I had done the right thing to reassure him.

Except he was no different when I called him that night.

My youngest came in the room and he was once again all charm and friendliness and they played together. But as soon as he left, Wild Card was still being off with me and would not explain why. In the end I told him I would go. There were no kisses goodnight.

I lasted five minutes before I text him. I told him that I didn’t deserve the way he had treated me that night. I said that I didn’t know what I had done but I was sorry it had clearly upset him. I told him he had hurt me.

I half expected him not to call, but he did. He told me that he was till angry from the day before. Why had his calls not connected? I again tried to explain about my phone being in my pocket and the inadequate WiFi but I don’t think he believed me.

When I told him he had hurt me, he denied it. In the end, I repeated thathe had, and put the phone down. I was angry by this point.

He didn’t call back but neither did I, but after a little while he text to say sorry and that he loved me. I calmed a little.

Yesterday was pretty much back to normal. Even to the extent that he asked me if I was coming to visit or not! I asked about the Coronavirus and he again explained his concerns, but then said if I want to come, I can come. It is my house now and I have my room – I can come if I want to. I was surprised by this and he asked again whether I was coming. I said I would look into it.

We had another laughing marathon after that with his parents asking him what he was doing to get me laughing so much. We then parted so he could eat his dinner.

An hour or so later he text then called and he as a little quieter again – he always is when he is tired which is fair enough. In the end he fell asleep whilst I worked and we only parted because the video stopped working on his phone.

Everyone has flaws, I know that. I’m right at the start of this with him and I am still getting to know him. Things have been so intense since I came home in so many ways. The calls are longer. But at the same time, we both seem a little more on edge.

Tonight is last night with his brother, before he moves away with his wife. I know it is affecting him – of course it is – even though he denies it. I can’t imagine how I would feel if that was me. Not myself, that’s for sure.

So, I’ve come home, text him to acknowledge the significance of the day and wish his brother and wife the best. I’m not expecting much communication tonight which is how it should be. May do us some good.

And no, I have no idea if I am going to see him in a month’s time.

What do you think?

Wild Card called me Saturday lunch time as he had been required to work extra to cover a sick employee. He was out in the van and we chatted whilst he made his way to his destination. He pulled faces to make me laugh – not safe I reminded him–and winked and smiled at me.

I told him about my daughter knowing everything. He asked what she had said and I told him: she wants to meet you and your family. I think he was a little surprised by this but I reminded him that he had suggested it too. He kept coming back to it, jokingly, and I figure it made him a little nervous. I again reminded him that he had said I needed to tell my family.

After that, there was another call and then pretty much silence until late at night.

By that point I was climbing the walls.

He knew I was going out to see a family friend and I’d told him when I’d be home. I actually got home later than planned but called him anyway. No answer.

An hour and a half passed. Still nothing. So I text him. Nothing.

Just at the point where I thought I might actually implode, he called. He’d been asleep after the extra work. I calmed, eventually, and decided that I hadn’t scared him off. It was just coincidence and my overactive imagination. We had a long chat as usual and everything seemed fine.

Sunday was similar. We had some early morning texts then he called me about an hour later and made me laugh again. His next call was a few hours later and at this point my sisters and Aunty were here.

Usually he won’t stay on the phone if I have visitors because he feels that my attention should be on them. This time though, he interacted with them and they all joked at my expense. I loved it – he was with us even though he was far away.

When my family left we were still on the phone: he shared with me some pictures of his family and of himself as a child. By the time the call ended, we had been on the phone for two hours.

I spent the day marking. But something was playing on mind. He still hadn’t confirmed my visit.

Last week when we discussed it, there were a few things he needed to sort first. There was something with work and his sister in law visiting. He told me not to book and that he would know more by Friday. Friday came and he told me his sister in law’s travel plans but did not mention my visit.

All weekend I’ve wondered what to do. Do I ask him again? Wait for him? Did he assume that I have already booked? My sisters told me to just ask so I did – I sent a message.

About an hour later I got a brief reply saying ‘ok’ and telling me that he was out. Another hour after that he called – he was sat in his car outside the train station waiting for his brother. He brought up my text.

The first thing he asked was whether I was worried about Cornavirus. I explained that as it is here and in his country, I could catch it anywhere. He told me he was worried about my safety and what if I was quarantined? I reassured him that I would have travel insurance.

He told me that there was no problem then and I could come when I liked over the Easter holiday. I asked if he wanted me to come and he said yes and seemed to pull his sincere face, the one he pulls when I am insecure and he is trying to reassure me.

But then, in the next breath, he told me to not book until next week, once his sister in law had visited and his brother had left. I was so confused at this point. Why tell me I can come when I want, that he wants me there, but then ask me to hang fire on booking? I told him again that I did not have to come but he said again that I can but just wait to book.

His brother arrived at the car not long after that so he said he would call when he got home.

I was, am, so confused. I thought about what my sister had said earlier:

What she said was true (and the reason I have given you all the details of our communication), every day, cumulatively, we are on the phone for hours. He would not do that if he didn’t want to be with me. So what was the problem?

He called as promised when he got home. Before long he was sat at the table, eating, and I could hear his parents having a quite heated/enthusiastic conversation. I heard the word Corona mentioned a number of times. He joined in at one point. After a few minutes of me observing but not understanding this conversation, he said he would call me back shortly as he ws talking with his family.

He did, and we talked and almost fell asleep together again. I love that. Neither one of us wants to get off the phone but we both start to drift off. It feels like we are lying together.

There could be lots of reasons why he doesn’t want me to book but of course my head jumps to him not wanting me to go. His family are worried about Cornavirus – I know that from when I was there in February and from conversations I’ve had with Wild Card over the past weeks. Maybe him and his family are worried about me visiting with the outbreak – there are many more with the virus in my country than his. If I was to catch it there I would have to stay there. Perhaps they are worried for me.

Maybe he hasn’t asked his parents yet. Their middle child is about to leave home… Maybe it’s not the right time.

Perhaps it is financial. I know he spent a lot of money when I was there and he would not accept any from me. Maybe it’s just not convenient and he doesn’t want to upset me. I just don’t know.

All I know is that I am really confused. I’m the sort of person that likes plans straight and clear. I want to know what’s happening. I need to plan and book and be sure everything is ready. So maybe its my own need to control that’s the issue.

Or maybe he just doesn’t want me to go.

What do you think?


You know that I love words. I love it when you find the perfect words or word to sum up a situation. My title is just that.

Last night, I told the whole truth of my situation with Wild Card to my fifteen year old daughter.

My daughter is my eldest child. As such, I don’t know how typical our relationship is but it is certainly changeable. She is very close to her Dad and considers herself a ‘Daddy’s’ girl yet we are close too, to a certain extent. She certainly doesn’t tell me everything – what teenager does, I guess? – but there are moments when she will come and confide in me.

My daughter compliments me more than any other person I know. She tells me I’m beautiful and compliments me when she thinks I look nice. She tells me how proud she is of me, for all I have achieved.

Conversely, however, this also creates a source of conflict between us. She absolutely refuses my help. I’m an English teacher, she will be taking GCSE literature and language in two months, but she refuses any help from me at all. She won’t let me help her plan her revision. She didn’t not want my input in discussing colleges and college courses. She wants to prove to me, and I guess herself, that she can do this without me. That’s a bitter pill to swallow. How can she be proud of me, but not want my help? It’s something I have had to accept and be confident that she will ask if she needs me.

Lying to her this past month has been really difficult for me. She of course knew about Wild Card, partly because of the extent of our communication and also because I had confided in her that I was ‘online dating.’ To be fair to her, she had encouraged me to ‘put myself out there’, but I also know she feels conflicted because of her loyalty to her father. But I did not tell her that I was going to visit Wild Card.

This was for two reasons. I see no point in telling my children about my situation with Wild Card until I am convinced it is serious. For them to get attached to him, which I think they would, and then for him to disappear at some point… Well, that would double the hurt for all of us. (Although, I recognise that them talking to him now is probably creating that situation anyway.). Secondly, I didn’t want to put her in the position of lying to her father. It’s none of his business, but she should not have to lie to him on my behalf.

When I returned from my trip, I was on a high. I wanted to tell her everything but still wasn’t sure it was the right time. About a week ago, I did tell her that Wild Card and I really liked each other and that we had met recently. She laughed at me. ‘That’s pretty obvious mum.’ She asked when I had met him but I didn’t tell her.

This week, she has confided something big in her life. I was driving her to her Dad’s alone – her brothers were already there. She said she needed to tell me something, then blurted out that she was bisexual. Yes it was a surprise – I had no idea – but I was touched that she was able to tell me. She hasn’t told her dad yet.

Her honesty has plagued me all week, and last night I decided to confess all. Only problem was, she had worked it all out already. She said she was suspicious when I booked my trip. She said there were clues about his nationality, of which I hadn’t shared, and she had guessed that he may have lived where I was visiting.

I completely underestimated her. She went through all the clues she had used to work out what I had done and I was astounded by her intelligence and thought process. She said that by telling her I had met him, I had confirmed her suspicions.

I also underestimated her feelings about the situation. We lay on my bed and I showed her all the photographs from my trip. I told her about him and his family, and how they had cared for me. I also told her some of my fears – that I have no idea how this will all work out.

She told me that he sounds like a good man and that it is obvious that he cares about me and likes me. She said that she would love to meet him and his family (I was really surprised about that). She was genuinely happy for me and actually reassured me a little. She did talk about the future and asked what will happen if we got married (!) and whilst I told her that was so far in the future that it wasn’t worth thinking about, she was enough aware of his culture to know that it is a possibility. We are serious about becoming serious. She told me that if I decided to live with him, she fully supported me but she would not come with me. I told her that, even if that was a consideration, we are talking years and years from now.

I feel like a weight has been lifted. She has the facts and I have her support.

For me, there are three things that need to happen for me to be 100% confident that he is serious about me – even though, by considering his culture, me visiting him and knowing his parents is pretty serious. The first is that I book for my second visit. Whilst we have talked about my coming again and he has told me I am welcome, he has had to confirm a few things with his family before I book. Last night he confirmed one thing, but didn’t actually tell me to book my flights and I won’t until he does. The next is that he tells his whole, extended family about me. (I fully accept this is a big step and one for the future, but that will be confirmation). Finally that he changes his social media to acknowledge his relationship with me.

Today I will tell Wild Card that my daughter knows everything. Before my trip, he had asked me what my children know. When I told him they didn’t know I was visiting him, he had said that was probably for the best. Since then, he has repeatedly suggested that I bring them to visit him. When we had our ‘serious’ talk earlier this week, he said that I needed to tell my family. I replied that my sisters and mother knew already, but maybe he was talking about my children.

Maybe I have underestimated his need for security too. The fact that I haven’t told my children yet does not prove my commitment to him and us. Every time we speak he asks if I have missed him, how much, do I love him, how much. At first I thought that this was just conversation, a routine of ours. Perhaps he needs this confirmation as much as I do.

Part of me is scared that he will panic when he finds out my daughter knows all. To me, it is a big step. But it was a step that had to be taken and I am glad I have done it. I underestimated how important it was for my daughter to know, and how much it was playing on my mind that she didn’t.

In my next post I will let you know how he reacts.

Update and reflection – part one

I left my story three days ago with me trying to follow the online advice I’d found.

To recap… Since being on holiday, and after a week of intense shared feelings and emotions previously, Wild Card was being distant. He was completely justified in this: he had gone on holiday with his family. But the timing, my anxiety… Well, it basically sent me over the edge. If I had left him and we had gone back to our normal LDR routine, it would have been difficult but manageable. The complete shift was playing with my already anxious insecurities.

The psychologist’s advice:

1) Don’t go on about how you feel, don’t question, don’t nag, don’t whinge. (All of which I was doing)

2) Don’t be the first to message/contact all the time – don’t over compensate (Yes, I was doing this too)

3) Don’t be so quick to reply when he does message. Take your time. (The minute my phone goes, I reply)

4) Focus on yourself. Eat well, exercise. Spend time with family and friends. Enjoy your life outside of him. (Nope, I wasn’t doing this)

5) When he comes back to you, talk about what happened. But only when things are back to normal.

So, on Wednesday, after an evening of panic, I initiated the plan. My last post ended at 11am with no contact.

First of all, I’m going to tell you that it worked. Second, I need to admit that I still went crazy, and I mean crazy. Third, I’ve learnt my lesson.

Game playing is never good in a relationship. Unfortunately, that’s the path my insecure mind decided to take.

My first game was to post something on Facebook. He always contacts when I do this. It was nothing – a picture of the rare blue sky and a comment about the onset of Spring. It could have been worse.

By the time I returned to my office he had indeed got in contact. He ended up calling me and showed me the stunning place where he was with his family. I was touched that he wanted to show me and sensed his frustration when I had to go back to work. Success!

But, it wasn’t enough. Some social media stalking later and I had sent a message that undid all my good, calm work. (My sister doesn’t think I did anything wrong but, I do).

By the time I had got home, after some further social media stalking (I have said all along why I hate social media and this is just proving me right) I had hit crisis point. I was in tears, on edge, frantic. I was convinced that this was the end. It doesn’t matter that he’d called – that was forgotten.

I called him, expecting him not to answer but needing to anyway. He didn’t answer, but messaged quickly to say he was driving.

By the time he had messaged me to say that he was back at his accommodation, my scheming had pitched to a new level. I was going to manipulate rule 4 to get a response.

Dangerous, dangerous territory. I know this. But I couldn’t help myself. I needed an answer to my fears, either way.

So when he messaged and asked what I was doing, I told him I was going out. I wasn’t. Knowing how he might respond, I added to the lie by putting more make up on and doing my hair so I looked like I was going out.

Long story short, I got the desired response. He questioned, he called. He wasn’t happy. I got the ‘I love you’ I had been missing but I was also told that he would call me when I was out.

Some of you will not like that level of control. I do. It shows me how he feels. And you need to remember, the times that he has reacted like that in the past , I’ve still gone out. It doesn’t affect my actions, it just proves how he feels. It’s part of his culture, him, and as I have said before, it’s no different to how I feel when he goes out.

Problem was, this time, it was a lie. I wasn’t going anywhere with anyone.

Luckily for me, my sister arrived, unfinished uni assignment under her arm, looking for help. I told the sorry tale of my scheming and was suitably told off. She then gave me my alibi.

By the end of my confession he had indeed called. He spoke to my sister, was told that I had cancelled to help her, and he was happy.

The remainder of the evening, he sent me some lovely personal pictures of his family on holiday, pictures that he would not put on Facebook but shared with me. I also got another video chat last thing at night. He was still quiet, but he was in a shared room with his family.

The next day he was travelling home. After my game playing, I decided that I needed to calm down. Be true to myself but calm down. My scheming and panicking were going to chase him away.

Continued in part two…

Readjustment to reality: Feast and Famine

After a romantic and fun filled week, then a weekend being apart but crammed with ‘I love you, I miss you’ and multiple video chats, the last two days have been really tough.

As I explained in my last post, Wild Card and his family made an 8 hour car journey on Monday as they were going on holiday.

I had a few messages throughout the day – he was driving after all – and he messaged when he arrived.

Later, we had a very brief video chat whilst he was out at a cafe with his family and then we had a couple of longer text conversations throughout the evening, including one late at night whilst we were both in bed.

I should be happy with that, shouldn’t I? But, I’m not. He preoccupied. He is in another place which means he is not free to talk. He’s with extended family so needs to respect that. So whilst my heart is still aching in the missing of him and my words have expressed that, his have not.

If anything he was in a weird mood Monday night and I have to keep reminding myself that an 8 hour drive as the sole driver will do that for you. I kept trying to end the conversation with an excuse of going to sleep but I just didn’t like the way I was feeling. He wouldn’t let me though and would ask me a question to keep me talking.

Yesterday I messaged in the morning to wish him a good day. Before his extended holiday, this was always his routine. I took over when he finished work. He replied, and we had a brief chat, but then I had a meeting. By the time I got back to my phone he had gone out. I told him I would speak to him later and I got a kiss in return.

I waited all day. I didn’t message him and he didn’t message me. He is on holiday!!!! My rational mind would tell me. How quickly he has forgotten you, my irrational mind would counter.

By 6pm I was in an anxious state. My sister told me to stop being stupid and just message him. An hour later I had a brief reply. Then nothing again. Anxiety overdrive.

Eventually, at around 9pm he messaged. He sent a picture of him sat at the table with all his family, I guess as reassurance and explanation. It was needed – the conversation was stilted and difficult. And yes, I know that was because he was sit sat with his family and was in effect disrespecting them by continuing to message me, no matter how disatisfying the conversation.

At one point, I sent the following due to a conversation I’d had with my sister where she said she wants to talk to him more:

His reaction to that made me feel a little better but I just felt dissatisfied at the end of the conversation, despite the amount of time and superficial conversation we’d had.

Four days ago I was on cloud nine. It’s not realistic that our communications would remain the same. It was my first time being with him, the first time of leaving him. It’s natural that this was going to be difficult to readjust.

And then, it’s how I feel about him. Not to mention my natural tendancy to be anxious anyway. My friend, a trained counsellor, summed it up for me. From his knowledge of me and my previous relationships, this is the first time that I have truly ‘matched’ with someone on every level. Every other relationship I have had has involved some sort of ‘settling’.

It was like a smack in the face because it was so true and I hadn’t thought of it like that before. Whilst wanting to believe that my true match was out there somewhere, I’ve been of the opinion that you find a good man, you love each other, you accept the faults and flaws and work hard to make it work. My impending divorce perhaps suggests the flaws in that plan.

I’ve met someone who makes me happy (when I’m not being an anxious freak), who challenges and inspires me, who cares for me and (usually) makes me the centre of his attention, and who I am wholly and physically attracted too. When with him, I felt the heady mix of being completely comfortable and settled as well as being excited and ‘alive’.

Is there any surprise that I am scared of losing this?

In my late night angst, I searched for some online advice and found a psychologist and relationship expert which has directed my thinking today.

Over the past few days, I’ve made it clear how I feel. He can be in no doubt of the depth of my love and how much I am missing him. But him being preoccupied is accentuating my natural tendancy to be anxious. This means that I am acting differently. I am being clingy and snippy and needy. He’s just trying to enjoy his holiday with his family. If I want him to miss me again, I need to stop creating this negative atmosphere when he messages in the only way I can.

So today I have not messaged him, as instructed by the psychologist. I’m giving him space to enjoy his holiday, not bombard him with my neediness, and therefore to miss me.

It’s so hard. It’s nearly 11am, 12MD where he is, and I haven’t heard from him.

The other advice, sound advice from what I can see, is that I need to renegage my social life: keep busy. Be happy. Be the person he fell for, not this needy, whiney, anxiety ridden nag. I need to take care of myself and be the best I can be.

And then, when he comes back to me and things go back to normal, then I can discuss how hard this week has been for me.

My dad used to say, you only know if something is truly yours if it comes back to you when you let it go.

To quell my considerable anxiety at this situation, I am trying my best to logically think of the positives of this situation if it all goes wrong.

If he doesn’t come back, if things don’t return, then he wasn’t right for me anyway. There’s no reason for this to happen unless I do something wrong. His words, remember?

My experience of travelling alone has been inspirational and life changing. I can do more than I think I can.

I’ve learnt so much about the prejudices of others but also the goodness of people: being open to that, not biased.

I’ve learnt that you cannot always accept the judgements of others, even when you trust them. Everyone has biased and flawed thinking.

Actions speak louder than words.

I’m worthy of love. Men find me attractive. I am liked. I don’t need to settle.

Whilst I’ve found love across the seas, I’m pretty sure that somewhere, probably closer to home, there will be someone else who would equally make me happy. (I didn’t like writing this one)

You’ve got to be open to love. Open to risks. Live life as it is supposed to be lived. Not just exist.

My previous relationships have caused some real hang-ups for me, more than I realised.

It’s dangerous to accept your first thoughts in a situation. Initial reactions are emotion and anxiety driven. It’s important to pause and reflect and think.

No matter how important he is to me, I have a life here. I have children, family, friends and a career. Those are some of the things he loves about me. Ignoring them over him is counterintuitive, however you think about it.

Live in this moment. I can’t always have control of the future.

I can’t make him love me or want me. But I can make him fall out of love with me by being stupid. I just need to be the best I can be. His words.

So there we have it. I’ll let you know how I get on.

Challenging my thinking

The moment the plane landed I turned off airplane mode and saw that he had messaged me. For every second of that three hour plane ride I was thinking and writing about him and us and our time together.

When I arrived at my airport hotel I called him. Seeing his face and hearing his voice soothed me. I didn’t realise I would feel like that. The call was short as he was visiting family but it was clear that we were both missing each other.

As promised, he called me later when he got home. He was different then, quieter. I know he was tired: we had ‘slept’ in the same bed the night before and we had been up early. He’s always quiet when he’s tired. But I also felt like there was something on his mind. If there was, he wouldn’t tell me no matter how much I asked.

He asked me to send all the photos and videos of my visit to him. He also asked me to send my writing.

A few days ago, he had come into the room to find me on my phone. He asked what I was doing and I had told him I was writing.

“Writing what?”

I told him that I was writing about my thinking.

“Have you always done that? From being a girl or just now?”

I explained that I have always written journals but that now I write on my phone. Telling him that I was writing about him probably wasn’t the best idea but he’s not stupid. What else would I be writing about?

“I want to see.”

Excuses can only last so long. Last night he wanted to see, so I showed him.

It was actually a letter to him, one that I never intended to send, but I’ve found an unsent letter is a good way of processing what you need to say to someone.

It contained how much I loved him, how happy he had made me, how grateful I was for the care and attention he had given me this week.

But it also expressed some of my fears and confusion: what did his parents know/think about us? What were we now? Why did he want me? How sacred I was of losing him, of him finding someone better.

He went through the letter and answered some of my questions. He said that he had told his parents that I was visiting because we may have a serious relationship and that I was coming alone so it was safer if I stayed with him. I hadn’t realised that he had actually verbalised the seriousness of us but I should have done. He’s told me enough times about his culture. I said to him that he hadn’t told me what he’d said to his parents. He reminded me that I hadn’t asked.

The rest of my ‘questions/concerns’ frustrated him a little. One of the things I really love about him, is the way he challenges what I think. Instead of just saying it, he makes me think about it myself and find my own answer:

“so, why do you want me?”

“Why are you asking me that – the letter is about how you feel, not me?”

“Just answer the question. Why do you want me?”

“Because I love you.”

“Good. Why do you love me?”

It doesn’t matter that I’m frowning at him now, and complain that he already knows, it was in my letter. I have to answer:

“I love you because you make me happy. You care for me, and look after me and make me laugh and make me feel important. You’re a good man.”

“OK, so why do you think I want you?”

Sheepishly. “Because you love me.”

“Because I love you. So why are you asking this question… ‘I don’t know why he wants me?'” He pauses. “And how do you know I love you?”

Even more sheepishly: “Because you care for me and look after me and want me to be happy.”

“Good. So where is the problem?”

“There isn’t one.”

He tells me that he is not frightened about losing me because he has done nothing wrong for me to want to leave. He is being the best he can be, so why would he lose me? Only if he does something wrong will he worry about that. And if I find someone else? That is my choice and there is nothing he can do about that. All he can do is care for me and love me and be the best he can be.

I sit there, looking at him, listening to him, and I feel so stupid. Stupid for worrying and over thinking. I tell him that the letter was never meant for him to see, that it was just my thinking. But he says he doesn’t understand why I think that way. Did he not show me he cared and loved me this week? Actions speaking louder than words, perhaps.

I can’t help it at this point, I start to cry. I cry because at that moment, I need his hugs and his kisses more than ever. I cry because I am stupid and my fears and insecurities are going to chase him away. I cry because I love him and miss him and am so lucky he found me.

He tells me not to cry, that he doesn’t like it when I cry…why am I crying?

When I tell him it is because I miss him, because I’ve been lying on this hotel bed expecting him to walk through the door, just like he did at his home.

He tells me not to cry. We will be together one day. And that he told me it will be hard and that I need to be strong.

The call ends with us telling each other that we love each other and by sending kisses over the phone, just like we have done for four months now.

I love those kisses. But I love the real ones even more.