She's the greatest, man.

Chapter 4

You see...having earned an arts degree in college, I had a "liberal" sort of college experience. I made many really good friends that I was close with since we had been through so much. Friends that were not burdened by societal norms, such as with sex.

We were safe in what we did, but we did experiment...a lot. From threesomes to BDSM and even some public stuff, we did a lot. It was fun as we were open to trying things. In a way it was strange as no one was "dating" anyone. We were just friends. When we hung out with someone, if both were cool with having sex or trying something, we just did it. Just a bunch of artsy people wanting to learn about life.

When I got together with my wife, I was honest about my past sex life. Actually, I am always open and honest about that part of me. For some reason my wife treated it as a competition or something. Like she had to prove she could do anything that I've tried and more, as if I cared. Same with my ex-girlfriend.

Both my ex-wife and ex-girlfriend said they were super-freaky, even if I said I didn't care. But both proclaimed they could match me in that area. That whatever I wanted to try they would do and do it better. Granted, most of this happened in drunken rants.

I've learned that when someone has to repeatedly boast about how kinky they are, it means they aren't. Such as with my ex-wife. I still remember the evening that we were laying in bed and fooling around. She then declared she wanted me to "lose control" and fuck her as hard as I could. I hadn't even started trying when she broke down sobbing.

You might think this is because I was being overly aggressive or hitting her, but no. As I mentioned, I hadn't even really started, except for trying to get into position. What caused her to cry is that I grabbed a handful of her hair. This proved far too much for her to take so she broke down sobbing and killed any arousal in that bedroom.

Sure, she apologized and said how she wasn't expecting me to do that. Just as I apologized too for not checking first. She said she wanted to try again and this time wouldn't cry. But I could see in her eyes that her heart wasn't into it. Or at least not into it with me.

The next time when we tried again, she just got mad when I kept asking if I was being too rough. Then when we tried to do some BDSM things, she would make up excuses why she wanted to stop. Such as she couldn't see my face, so she couldn't tell if I was enjoying myself. I tried to get her to talk to me, to be honest about what she wanted sexually, but she never was. I was always up front telling her that I never wanted to do anything she wasn't comfortable with.

Same thing basically happened with my ex-girlfriend. She proclaimed how freaky she was and even showed off toys she had for herself. Then one night when she was spending the night at my place, I revealed I purchased a fancy vibrator for her. I had used it on her maybe four seconds before she broke down crying. I actually thought maybe I was using it wrong, but all I had done is put it on her clit.

She sobbed she only wanted to use her own toys as she was comfortable with them. That my toys made her feel like a whore, even if I was just trying to make her feel good. I said I understood, after that anytime I used her toys on her she accused me of not using them properly. Basically implying that since they weren't my toys I wouldn't use them right.

Oh well. But as I was saying, it's not the sex that I miss the most. It's lying in bed. Having my arms wrapped around them, hearing the soft breathing and their warmth. Making it feel that you aren't alone in this cold, harsh world. That you have someone that will stick with you and trusts you enough to fall asleep in your arms.

Taking a long sip of my drink I remind myself that things are changed now. I know the saying is that there is someone for everyone, but I no longer believe that. I believe some people are meant to be alone. Rather it is of their own making or the universe wills it so. Not that it has to be a bad thing.

It's not something I like to admit, but sometimes I think that I'm one of those people. You see, eight years ago I had a health issue that no doctor treated me had ever seen before. My body started to chomp down on my blood. There was no reason for it either. My body just viewed my blood as being bad and did everything it could to kill it. But as you might guess, blood is something your body needs. It was very similar to having cancer, except I didn't get the sexy word to describe it.

Long story short, it cost me my spleen and damaged my immune system, not to mention gave me pretty bad nerve damage. I'm immunocompromised now, meaning I can't go out in large crowds, such as a concert or to a packed movie theater to see a movie. Hell I can't even go to a grocery story unless it is the ass-crack of dawn with the other weirdos.

A single germ that most people could fight off could end me. Not a trait that people would be lining up to get with. Especially as my partner would need to work my disability into their life. So if they have a cough or something, it means I wouldn't be able to get close till they were feeling better. Plus I wouldn't be able to go to crowded events unless I masked up.

Being immunocompromised is bad enough but thanks to going so long without enough blood in my body, a lot of my nerve endings were damaged. This messes with being able to sleep at times, not to mention the ability to feel certain things, like when I touch something too hot. My ex-wife had learned never to take a dish from me when it was passed around as I never knew if it was too hot.

"She's the greatest, man. She is. I can't lose her. I don't even know how I got her to begin with," the crying man says, bringing my attention back to him. When he says this, a smile spreads across his face at thinking of his wife. It's actually rather sweet to see.