Pillow Talk - What not to say

His Fumble

Saturday night, during post-coitus cuddling, the Producer murmurs into the nape of my neck, “Joanna, you’re funny.” The temperature in the room immediately drops 30 degrees – My name is not Joanna. His ex’s name is Joanna. Until I coolly commented that, “My name is not Joanna” he did not realize his error.

He immeditately launched an incredibly nauseating apology. (Kissing my neck.) I don’t care about her anymore... (Kissing my cheek.) I’m sorry... (Kissing my ear.) You are right to be miffed, but trust me - she means nothing to me...

The whole scene ticked me off even more. I thought about leaving – but it was 5:30 AM. At 6:30 AM, I was tired of hearing him talk. I wanted to go to bed, so I let him off the hook: “You are drunk and you said it when you were half asleep.” Case closed.


My Fumble

Something about the Producer which I’ve shockingly remained mum about is his prowess in bed. He is attentive, long-lasting, adventurous, consistent and always puts me first. Not to mention, his stamina is practically unmatchable.

Following the “Joanna” evening, we slept till early afternoon at which point we woke up and started having morning sex. I say lots of things during sex, things like, “I love when you do that” or “I love that.” However, this morning I cut my sentence short and all that came out was, “I love you.”

I do not love him, this I am positive of. I was in the moment and I said it, but I did not mean it. Sadly, I can’t take those words back and I don't think he's going to let me forget it. That afternoon, when his football team was trounced he texted me: “I'm really down, my team is losing. Can you tell me you love me again to cheer me up?”

He said Joanna.
I said Love.
It seems this match is a draw.