The art of communication

I wonder if you remember, W, erstwhile would-be Dominant? He of the slightly lacking personal hygiene and cluelessness in bed? I have to confess that I didn't handle that situation with him too well - as I'm such a Grown Up Lady (not really) I naturally thought the best and most straightforward course of action would be simply to avoid his calls and texts until he got the message. This only took two weeks. And then he sent me an email asking me what was up and that he assumed I no longer wanted to see him. I agreed that I didn't, of course, and although I didn't go into the whys (you are crap in bed + you smell + you don't listen) I was quite firm and unambiguous about the fact that I was no longer interested in something with him. But we could be friends, right?

But you know what. All of this is completely different to how W perceives things. A series of passive aggressive messages lately suggest that not only does he think I am still perfectly fine to flirt with and angry and personal when I don't reciprocate but that also, our split was a completely mutual thing. Messages that made me cross enough that I wanted to link to my blog with a short note describing how I was finished with him before he had rolled off me. But what would have been the point? To prove to him that he was wrong about that? I just would have ended up hurting and embarrassing him and I don't really think that I need to do that, not least for an empty and petty victory of that nature. At his best, W can be kind, thoughtful and make me choke with laughter. A bit of me wants to think we could be friends and maybe we could. But even if we can't, I am pleased with myself that where I once might have reacted really badly to someone talking (ok, writing) to me in such a way, I'm managing to let it go. At least at the moment anyway. Maybe I'll be a Grown Up Lady one day.