Trigger warning: This post deals with the death of a person by suicide.
I was gonna write this piece about my vanilla ex, and how my life would have been, had I stayed with him. It would have been pleasant, stable, and, you know, nice.
Then I thought back further, and I wondered if I should write about what would have happened with my first ex. But no, looking back, a life with him was never an option. He was too wild, too focused on forbidden hook-ups. I could never have shared my life with him. I would have become miserable.
I thought back further and found one decision that I made around age sixteen. Had I not turned that offer down, I now probably would have been rich, or at least wealthier than I am now. But I’m still glad I made the choice that I made.
I had a rough childhood. My parents divorced when I was eleven, and my mother had a mental breakdown that she never recovered from. As a result, I lived with my father from that moment on. I was so happy with that arrangement. My father was more relaxed than my strict mother, and I felt way more connected to him than to my mother. My father and I shared a love for computers, gadgets, videogames and fantasy in general, where my mother wasn’t interested in any of these.
But with his full-time job, my father wasn’t the best caregiver. For a large part, I was left to my own devices.
I don’t even know how exactly since we weren’t even that close, but relatives of mine offered to take me in when I was sixteen.
It must have been an enormous sacrifice to them. You must understand that these people are rich. The last time I spoke to him, he told me he was financially independent.
While under their care, I’m sure I would have finished high-school, and after high-school, I would have gone to university. I would have gotten my degree and would have gone on to a splendid career in a well-paying field. It is to be expected that I would have found a nice, decent man to marry and start a family with. All would have been well.
Don’t get me wrong, they’re good people and have always worked hard. The fact alone that they offered to take me in says a lot.
I said ‘no.’
I remember considering their proposal. I realised it would improve my chances in life. Next to moving away from my friends, there was one main reason why I didn’t want to accept their offer: I didn’t want to leave my father.
I knew it would break my father’s heart. He would probably have understood, but nonetheless, he would have been devastated.
And I wanted to stay with him. I loved our time together. I loved how we joked, how we talked on the phone while he was at work, how we went to the theatre together. I am so happy to have had these years with him.
I stayed with him until moving out three years later. I had a strong need to be independent, and my father was about to remarry.
Five years after I left home, my father committed suicide. And no, not because I left, but for a whole range of other reasons. But I know for a fact that me leaving his house to live with my relatives would have made the situation worse.
And you know what? I’m happy with where I am today. Yes, I struggle and have been through dark times. I have worked my ass off in retail for eighteen years. I didn’t finish university.
But do you know what I got? I got the freedom to explore myself. I got the opportunity to chat with strangers online, to read sex stories and to write my own. Oh yes, my relatives would have applauded my writing skills, but I doubt they’d accepted anything sexual, and certainly not as a professional career as I’m pursuing now.
Not Enough Kink
I could have had a decent job, a fine husband and probably two lovely children. But would I have been happy? Would that goody-goody husband have made me beg to spank him? Would he have understood my need to be tied up and slapped in the face? Would he have made me crawl around the room and bark like a dog? I doubt it.
I’m afraid this happy-go-lucky life would have left me unsatisfied, maybe even without understanding why. So I embrace my struggles. And I’m forever thankful I didn’t add to my father’s pain more than he already suffered.