This post is a little different from the stuff I normally post but I had words I needed to say and this feels like the right place to say them.
I’m not one of those people who really talks about stuff. I seem like I am and as anyone who knows me will tell you I often overshare but when it comes to the really important stuff I keep it close. That being said most people will say I’m an open book, and I do tend to wear my heart on my sleeve but I’m very skilled at smiling and telling you what you want to hear.
Having suffered from depression since I was fifteen, I am very good at putting on a brave face. At pretending I am doing just fine. I’m so good at it that my ex missed the fact I was suicidal, so good that none of my ‘family’ (and I use that word very loosely) ever knew about my attempt, so good that when i moved I convinced my shrink to discharge me rather than transferring me.
I was thinking today about that mask. About how I chat, and laugh, and flirt, and say all the right things, the expected things, but it’s not real it’s a screen. I feel like most of the time there’s only that facade. It’s not really me, it’s just the mask I show the world.
Sex is one of the few times I don’t feel I have to put on a ‘front’, I like it, I enjoy it, and I have fun. I don’t have to pretend or fake it. I can just be in the moment and savour the feeling. It’s relaxing……and not just in the obvious way but in a “I can lose the mask and just be” sort of way. And afterwards, the post-coital haze, always feels like a safe place to just chat and be yourself.
Maybe it’s not just the sex I crave but that feeling of being able to really truly relax. Don’t get me wrong I LOVE the sex, i really really love the sex. But I like that feeling too. And if you really want to know me maybe it’s the only way to do it.