I loved him manic. I loved his eyes with feverish glimmer, his excessive sensuality, his maniacal desire to be around and hug, and kiss, and snuggle.
“Remember Vixen, it’s not him, it is just his manic episode”, – my inner voice was coldly rational, mercilessly commonsensical.
– I love you Vixen, – his fingers running through my hair, smile on my face, eyes closed, butterflies in the stomach.
Everything about him felt too much: too sweet, too warm, too gentle, too caring, too awesome.
His prolonged gazing into my eyes felt powerfully penetrating. I was in love with his manic sensuality.
– Do you want a hug my dear? – I kept nodding YES, YES, YES, feelings shivers down my spine and warmth between the legs.
“It is just his manic episode,” – I wish my gut feeling were wrong, but I knew the intuition did not fail, I knew I was right, I knew it was not entirely him, I knew there will be the end, the flipside is coming.
Making love to him felt overly emotional. He was very passionate, loudly orgasming, tears in the eyes, his body covering mine.
– We are the perfect match, Vixen. I love you.
He held me in his arms all night, waking me up with thousand hugs and kisses.
He taught me to laugh and cry when expressing myself in intimacy.
– You are the princess, this is how you should be always treated.
“Wake up, it is just the manic episode”, – I was shaking my heard trying to get rid of the inner voice, I was in heaven, I did not want to know any further.
– Please stay, do not leave, take a day off, I need you here, – I saw sadness in his eyes as I started packing my suitcase. The weekend was coming to the end, I had errands to run prior the start of the new week, – please stay, you can drive to work from here, I really want you.
– I gotta go my dear, I need some paperwork to finish…
– Please stay
– I can’t, – he kept me up 3 nights, I felt exhausted, I needed to go back home and get some sleep.
– You can, just stay, just be here, – his physical warmth was sincere and seductive, I gave in.
The Monday morning started with a headache, redness in the eyes, and immense fatigue. I was taking a shower trying to wake up when I heard him opening the curtain. – Can I take a shower with my princess?
I could not do it, I was in a hurry, he was fresh and excessively passionate. Staying up all these days and nights did not get him tired. – I will take you to Italy and Spain, just tell me when, and I will book the flights.
– I am sorry, I gotta get ready for work
– Croatia maybe?
– Please, – losing the job was not something I could afford.
– Maybe England, what does my princess want?
I had to leave, he had a flight of ideas. “It is the manic episode, just a manic episode”, – he was holding me close under the running water, he was insatiably affectionate, I was exhausted and cranky.
– Vixen, please, do NOT leave.
– I gotta go.
His texting and calling were excessive for the next couple of hours, waning gradually by the afternoon. I felt physically and mentally broke throughout the day; I really did not care that he did not call or text “Good night, honey” in the evening, I was tired and sleepy.
Quiet Tuesday, quiet Wednesday, quiet Thursday, quiet Friday, no show – no call.
“It was the manic episode, he is back to his depressed self, you won’t hear from him for a while”, – my inner voice was right. He disappeared entirely, I slowly returned to my normal routine. The first couple of weeks were tough. Surviving the mental withdrawal from the happy romance fairy-tale was painful and self-destructive.
“He is bi-polar, unstable, alcohol-induced, and benzos-driven, he will be up and down all the time”. – I knew that, I accepted that, I had to move on.
2 months later he called me back, wanting to meet, submerging me in love, passion, and flights of ideas.
– I love you Vixen, – he was gentle and generous, loving and giving.
– My dear…, – I paused trying to find the appropriate word, almost knocked out by his charm and excessive sexuality, – I love you… I love you so much in your manic episode.