The Secret-Gentleman

Freshly showered with my favourite shampoo, teeth brushed, and hair styled to perfection, I get ready for our second date. I feel excitement growing inside me at the prospect of being with a man who truly meets my needs and might give me the release I’ve been longing for. It feels like the right moment to move forward, to leave the past behind. But as I get closer to you, a strange tension fills me. My body reacts in ways I can’t quite understand. You’ve booked a beautiful hotel room that looks luxurious from the outside, but something intangible holds me back. I hesitate at the threshold and ask for a walk instead. It’s the first warm, sunny day in a long time and perhaps the walk will help me relax, to calm the unease inside me. We stroll through the Prater, our conversation light and easy. The amusement park is coming back to life, pathways are being cleaned, rides are being assembled and inspected for the upcoming season. You reach for my hand. It feels pleasantly warm, but I feel nothing. No excitement, no spark. Just emptiness. I sense your desire to return to the hotel, but with every step, the unease inside me grows stronger. A weight presses on my chest, although I can’t fully articulate why. I try to explain my feelings, though I struggle to find the right words. You listen patiently and suggest a kiss to break the barrier. We kiss for a long time, deeply, but still, nothing stirs inside me. No passion, no longing. Your hands are on my neck, you stroke my head, my back. You pull me closer, offering warmth. Many people pass by, but I don’t care what they might think. I smell your scent, taste you, but there’s only emptiness. I break the kiss, feeling briefly relieved but confused. I wanted this. I wanted to move on, to feel alive again, to rediscover the pleasures I once knew. And yet, my body refuses to cooperate. It’s as if I’m locked in place, unable to step beyond the shadows of my past.

Because you are not him. He was the one who stole my heart, the one who still holds it captive despite everything. Even though he never truly appreciated me, even though he never treated me the way I deserved, every fibre of my being still yearns for him. I miss the fire, the raw intensity that once existed between us and I feel its absence like a physical wound. The loss is unbearable. The worst part is knowing he doesn’t share my pain. He blocked my phone number long ago and yet, tonight, I can’t resist contacting him. I write to him, even though I know he’ll never read it. Sending the message brings a brief sense of relief, a fleeting escape from the ache inside me.

You, however, are a gentleman. Even as I rush home in a haze of confusion, a message from you appears on my phone. You tell me that you understand, that you will give me the time I need to make sense of my emotions. That you want me to feel safe with you, to trust you and to find joy in your presence. Your words touch me deeply. But they don’t change the truth. I must find the reason why I can’t let myself love someone who treats me well. I don’t understand why I’m still trapped in the memory of someone who never truly valued me. When I get home, I vomit and am completely drained. The reality sets in: my heart is still broken, and not even you, as my secret gentleman, can heal it. ‘Cause I was blind in my love for him, giving him everything I had, but now I’m left with nothing but pain. When will this end? What did I do to deserve this cruelty? Why was my unconditional love not enough?