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Sometimes I felt I was addicted to the sex. I mean how can anyone cope with all the trauma, lies, double standards, verbal and emotional abuse and not walk out? I was hooked around her fingers because of the euphoria I got after making love to her. I have not yet felt that good in the act. I thought it was worth losing myself, my dignity and self respect. But it's not. I just had to cut it and I was OK. I think one tends to become more rational once the mind stops focusing on sex.

Sex is just another tool for control for them. It's not very different from rage, lies or invalidation in my eyes.

Hey Free-


So were you having sex with her or making love to her?  I realize 'making love' can be a euphemism for sex, but there may be some value for you digging there.  We can confuse intensity with love, that buzz that feels like an addiction with love.  So moving forward, what is love?  And why might we have confused intensity or sex, or the intensity of sex, for love?  You also mention that you are more rational when you're not focusing on sex; does that mean sex is irrational for you?  I know what you mean, but what is that place you go to when you're focusing on sex, and what does it mean? 

If everything happens for a reason and it serves us, what if a borderline came into our lives to expose us to things we may have missed about ourselves, beliefs, values, rules, and helps us discover who we are, why we do what we do, and what we make things mean.

+1

It was largely sexual addiction. Did yours have any fetishes? Mine wanted a golden shower, told me she used to penetrate men, got me into BDSM, asked me to spit on her, had organized orgies among her friends twice, a double penetration for herself , and once had sex with a guy she didn't know, in a car, based on a photo another lover showed her. He organized it for her.

To be frank, it's the only reason I stuck around as long as I did.  We just didn't have sex, at least not in my head, we made love.  It signified a lot more than just physical things.  In a moment of lucidity, J and I talked frankly about sex.  She had told me that she would be flirtatious with guys but she wouldn't just sleep with whoever.  Honestly, I'm not sure if that's really true or not but I think it is.  She wasn't that adventurous in bed but she was very passionate. 

In the end, though, it was about control.  It was a way she controlled me.  Don't get me wrong, I think she enjoyed sex in the moment with me.  Afterward though?  I can't say.  She would never just lie next to me in the bed, she would almost immediately jump up and get dressed.  Then it was off to whatever was next (watch tv, eat, whatever), no cuddling or intimacy afterward (basically, "wham, bam, thank you ma'am".  Sure, we'd hug/kiss when she was going home but we never had the "after sex cuddling".  Hindsight makes me realize just how immature about lovemaking she really was/is.

But, I can't deny how much I enjoyed sex with her.  There was such a connection.  But, I'd feel extremely anxious afterward (pregnancy fears).  I know that had to weigh on her (it would anyone).  It was my fear, not hers.  I was afraid she would become pregnant and have a tee total meltdown.  We had talked about kids (I have one of my own) and she was always so wishy washy on it that it made me so nervous.  Not to mention what it would do to her hormone wise (and how much she would change physically because of her N traits - she was constantly saying she didn't want to be pregnant because she would have a fat belly or "be fat" or "have stretch marks" - the fact of how beautiful a pregnant woman is because of its deeper meaning escaped her).

In the end, I miss the passion we shared there.  I miss her in that way.  But I don't miss the abuse.  Would I sleep with her again if she wanted to?  I'd like to tell you all "no", but I'm not sure what I'd do really.