I used to think James was an intellectual but now I see him constantly answering with the "short order answer response" and realize he has some depth but little insight. His idea of persuading me about the Muslim religion was not significant until he decided he did not want sex anymore. I was already in mortal pain over his failing performance as a lover with passion and had written him one undelivered letter that said "our sex life is totally meaningless." I felt removed during the sex act like a floating body in which he chose to only entangle himself with. Kinda like going into the refrigerator to get a bowl of icecream. I was the bowl he poured the ice cream into. He didn't know the bowl could feel his cold, ungentle touch but the bowl was not inanimate. The bowl had feelings. To some people, James would be considered a good lover, a good technician. He could work a pu**y and make it suitable for his entrance. I am not trying to get graphic. The funny thing is, he did not have to choose to stop having sex. He could have married me. I came to one vigilant conclusion. I was not going to let age, ethnic background, religious differences or varying stages in our life factor in to the possibility of love. I loved him with a raw, genuine ideal, simply, purely and without question. His logic is his downside. His smooth, calculating ways and his sense of self centered rationalism has led him down a vicious path. I don't think he has ever truly loved. He lost his virginity at 14 which is pretty harsh in a Muslim country. He did something scandalous at age 21 in which I cannot repeat. I am at a point now where I want to tear him down for all his fallacies. I want to shred every ounce of human dignity out of him and then I stop when I realize I love him. I do not have complete control over my behavior patterns. I am getting stronger and my vision of him is getting weaker. He is small, miniscule with faulty logic and does not possess the unconditional love of Jesus. He has patience but no passion. His not loving, affectionate. He may be genuine but his love o' meter is like a black and white dictionary with yellow faded pages. He is 28, with bit acting jobs, a nerdy car, a house full of roommates he wants to encourage to be celibate. He made love if that is what you call it, me 8 months and won't even let me drive down his street in fear that his roommates may find out he did not follow the Holy Quran. He is a shackled stranger to his own soul. He is an infidel. He has cross-bowed my heart and turned me into a cupid disaster, a raging woman deprived of his body, unable to love him anymore in his presence. I am on the cusp of revenge and distaste.
I had to modify this blog entry because I am now looking at my role in the situation. Falling in love with somone 24 years younger is not such a good idea. However, we gelled from the beginning and got along very well. So, it was more of a progression of occurrences that led to natural conclusion over a period of time. His sense of shame was more of an action based analysis. I felt transgressed within my heart over his conflict of love vs. sex. I think its like the rubber meets the road ideology. When you get to a pivotal moment, where one or the other cannot continue - either because of discomfort or a moment of truth, then something will happen to break it apart. I did not understand his decision. If sex was the only deliverable product in the relationship, how could we step back and provide meaning to eachother in other ways? It was discovered that we could through sharing our scriptures of faith. Value must come over duty though. I don't want somone sticking around just because they feel they have to. Only time will tell if our friendship survives.