I'm at GV8's place.

Rather, the apartment he got for me... before our first split, that now is his primary place of residence.

We spent almost three hours last night talking, trying to sort out where we were, where he thought I was. Completely over him. Done with. Moved on.

How hurt he was that I bolted, left him with a bare minimum of explanation, then never bothered to talk to him about it again.

My fear, my overwhelming fear that jumpstarted my system and caused my mad dash.

And how I wanted him in my life again.

He's not sure.

Which is... good. He's undecided, on the fence, unable to make up his mind, with convincing arguments for and against.

And I know it is likely that he will not take me back. I left him. I walked out on him. I'm a muddle of damage that I've not yet fixed. I admit this, I've told him this.

But I took a step.

At work this morning, I realized I needed to see him, needed to talk to him, needed to show him how I felt.

For the first time in my adult life, I chased a man. I lowered myself to that position, showed my belly, and launched myself at him.

Which is why I left work several hours early, saying it was a family emergency. And drove up to Hollywood, let myself into the loft-soon-to-be-club, to find one of his employees doing construction without him. I ended up, after his employee left, sitting outside of the apartment building, back against a brick wall, reading, looking up at every car that passed, wondering why he had not returned my call or my two texts (his phone died).

And then he showed up.

Surprised.

Kissing and holding and me failing not to cry.

We talked. And I took another step, another confrontation of my fears, and told him that I loved him.

Because I do.

Because he deserves to hear it. He deserves that much, whether or not we get back together, he deserves to know that he did get to me, even with my attempts at detachment, that I did love him, did care for him. And I did not need to hear it in return. I did not expect it to change his mind, I was not looking for an answer that he has yet to give me.

I needed to breach that wall in myself. Admitting vunerability, risking rejection, showing up unannounced and uninvited, and then opening all those walls that I've learned to maintain around men, especially those I care for the most.

I need to accept that, probably Friday, he'll tell me that he's not willing to invest the time and emotion into me. That the six months we were together where I did my damnedest not to show how much I cared because too often in my life my submissive nature has caused my partners to view me as a doormat and hold against me how I was a strong, independent woman until I gave into them, until I allowed that submission. The disrespect that accompanied that. The accusations of, essentially, false advertising, even though they were sexually dominant males.

I leapt.

I'm frightened.

But I did it. I fucking did something that I've never had the courage to do before. I put myself on the line. I offered him me, and was willing, am willing, to deal with his likely rejection.

Because I needed to do it. For me and for him. Because he's the most amazing man I've ever met, not just dated, but came in any sort of contact with. A supposed one-night stand into a realization that we, we could fit each other. We do fit each other.

My fears hold me back so much, from doing all the things I want to do for him. Worried, fearful, that he'll see me as weak, that he'll look down on my need to please and serve the man I am with. Groundless fear, in his case.

I'm damaged. I let my damage possible ruin our relationship. I let fear drive me without even attempting to restrain it. I disrespected him, showed a lack of faith, a lack of trust in him and our relationship. I'm going to do my best to fix it.

It's likely I'll end up hurt, bawling my eyes out, soon. Alone, rejected by the one man I've met that fits me better than I ever dreamed of.

But I was willing. I was able to do this. I spent all day in panic mode, my body basically rejecting all food, trying to bolt, shaking all over, with stressful chest pains, and I fought it, I stabilized, I did what I needed to do and I did not let self-doubt provoked by fear dissuade me from my course of action.

I'm getting better. I'm so rarely proud of myself, and maybe I'll take this back when he turns me down, but I am so damned proud of myself for doing this. Conquering this.

This makes me love myself. In a way I never felt before.



Progress.