Prince Sex*

Prince died. And it was sad day for everyone, including my unemotional unboyfriend who I haven’t talked to in 63 days or seen in 72, but who’s counting? He was consumed with grief and he sent me a text. I’m still not sure why. I guess because we both had a love for Prince. Not that that makes us any different from the other 50million people who are in mourning right now. Maybe he had been looking for a reason to message me for the last two months and that was as good a reason as any. I don’t really know, but he messaged me. And the funny thing about it is that I deleted his number the day I “broke up” with him. Not that you can break up with someone you aren’t with, but the day I broke it off, I deleted his number and every picture I had but one. And I tried to move on. But I recently got a new phone and I guess where I had downloaded my Google+ on the phone, it automatically updated all my old contacts too, including him.  I just hadn’t noticed. So when he texted me and his name came up, I almost had a panic attack, because even though I had half heartedly been expecting him to text me, I was kind of hoping he never contacted me again, and I certainly wasn’t expecting to see his name. I was expecting to see a number that I didn’t know and get to reply “who is this?” and hurt his feelings a little,  because I can’t ignore him and not text him back. I can’t even block him like I do everyone else. There’s just something about him that has this part of me and I hate it. So he sends me a text:

Him: Prince Died!!

Me: I know. So sad. Are you ok?

Him: Yea. Just drinking and watching some of his movies.

Me: (sad emoji face with tears)

Him: You in bed?

Me: No. I’m out.

Him: Damn, sorry didn’t mean to bother you.

Me: No bother. The show is almost over.

Him: Then you going home and crashing?

Me: I’ll probably be up for a while.

Him: Ok. Text me when you’re done.

So the show ended and I did text him:

Me: Still up?

Him: Yep

Me: Want me to stop by?

Him: Yea

Me: Ok. I’ll text when I’m there

Him: K

Just like that, as if we had just spoken yesterday, we pick right back up like we always do. No apologies necessary. No need to talk about what happened. No need to talk about this thing we keep doing. We just keep doing it. We never fight, we never argue and we never ever talk about the times when we are not together. We just pick back up where we left off and nothing changes yet everything changes. And like I’ve said a hundred times before, I’m not sure if I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone, but I definitely love him differently. And he would probably say the same about me  or not, because he says he has never loved anyone besides his family. He says he’s incapable. It doesn’t even matter though because I’m  always on the fence when it comes to love anyway. I either don’t love people enough or I love them too much. There’s not any middle ground. And with him, I always love him too much.

So I get to his place. Text him that I’m there, he opens the door for me and lets me in. I take off my shoes and sit in my regular spot on the couch. He sits in his regular spot and we start talking…about Prince and his movies and how he’s gone too soon and his songs and we eventually start talking about other things, but we never mention that it’s been over two months since we’ve seen each other. I don’t tell him I missed him. He doesn’t tell me he missed me. And why would we, because we are definitely falling into the same place we were before we stopped talking. It was as if No time had passed. Like when you are best friends with someone, you don’t get mad when they don’t talk to you for months because they have their life going on. You just catch up when you do finally get together. And that’s exactly how it is for us, despite the fact that when we stopped talking it was usually because I was feeling emotional in some way and he was being all too understanding of my feelings. It’s really the craziest thing I’ve ever experienced. And I didn’t  even feel the need to talk about it with him. I didn’t feel the need to express my feelings. And he certainly didn’t want me to nor does he have any desire to express his feelings verbally, but if he was trying to express them nonverbally, he did an excellent job of that.

We eventually  did what we do best and it was beautiful and amazing. He touched me like he missed me and loved me. Maybe he was just mourning the loss of an era. Maybe he only wanted to see me laughing in the purple rain. I bet there was actually a lot of Prince sex that night.  And when the moment was over, he wrapped his arms around me and held me tighter than he ever had before. And I curled right back into him like he was my favorite blanket that just came out of the dryer. I practically had to wrestle my way out of his grip just to go pee, but it was sweet. Especially sweet because it was Mr. “I have no emotions” holding me so tight.

So here we are back at that square one that I find so frustrating yet soothing, but it’s different this time, because I finally have less emotions about the whole situation. At least I think I do now, but I always start out with less emotions when we are “back on” and it builds like an snowball on a mountainside until we are “back off” again. I don’t really know what I will do with this situation, but I know how it ends….the same way it always ends. And yet, it never ends.

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