It’s not a conscious thing. We don’t sit in front of our mirror and say, Yea, I need a rebound guy as we put our makeup on.
Rebound Guy will put back the pieces of our shattered heart. Pieces crushed into fine glass powder, scraped carefully into our shiny compact, our new lover’s lips bleeding as he kisses our cheek.
It’s not like I didn’t warn him.
I met him soon after breaking up with D. He owned his own home, had a college degree, made decent money. He was tall with strong arms. He made me laugh, not cry. He was there when he said he would be.
I let him in.
We quickly became lovers. We spent amazing time in bed together. Out of bed, he was sweet, loving, dependable. All things I hadn’t had.
Did I fall in love? Did he? I don’t know either of us could say we did. We loved each other, sure. (He could cook. I loved that.)
We didn’t talk of the future – I was about ten years younger and eager to leave my hometown; he’d been burned before (two broken engagements) and unwilling to go anywhere.
Neither of us wanted to go there.
One night, I came over and the house was dark, save a candle with a note and a blindfold. “Put this on. No questions.” This was new. His place was rockin’ to a house beat, slammin’ so loud I couldn’t think. Soon his hands were on me, stripping me slowly. My heart raced, every nerve on edge for the next moment.
I didn’t know what he had planned and if you’ve ever let yourself be blindfolded, that’s where the trust comes in. It’s a test. It was the first time I’d been blindfolded like that. It’s clear he had a whole 9&1/2 Weeks kind of thing planned for me, for us.
And I went along with it. I got into the zone.
For awhile.
And then I didn’t.
I can’t recall exactly the moment I freaked, but I did. The feeling of claustrophobia so intensely strong, I ripped off the blindfold, grabbed my clothes, ran to his bathroom.
Then he freaked, unable to comprehend why I couldn’t, wouldn’t, trust him.
You know I’d never hurt you.
I cried. I did trust him. He couldn’t have been more gently sensual with me, knowing it was my first time in this situation. Sure, he was enjoying himself; but he also wanted to share something hot between us. That was only, truly ours.
Did I trust him? Yes. So where did this feeling of claustrophobia come from?
I think our subconscious dictates to us in situations that which we have no conscious thought, comprehending for us. Suppression, repression. I didn’t immediately understand. In fact, it took me months to realize — it was my college date rape experience that made my fight-or-flight response kick in.
But as I cried in his bathroom, I couldn’t verbalize this. My problem-solving skills nil as I pulled on his t-shirt and crawled into his bed, covers up to my neck with confusion and guilt, while he massaged me and watched Conan.
I stayed with my rebound guy for another year give or take a bit, until one day I woke up, watching him sleeping peacefully next to me, and decided I didn’t see us together in sixty years.
That was it. I was done. Rebound Guy has done his job.
What!? he responded with incredulity. How can you possibly know that?
I allowed him to put me back together again in his own way.
I made him bleed.
The rules for Rebound Guy are simple: expect to receive what you’ve fixed.
A heart for a heart.
Everybody knows that.
I appreciate your thoughts and comments below. Thank you.
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Rebound relationships are funny thing: on one hand you get the comfort you desire after your previous relationship ends. Sometimes I think we can get into rebound relationships because of something that is unfinished in our previous relationship, or something that is unfinished in ourselves. For some reason rebounds had the reverse effect on me: after I broke up with A., which was a seven year relationship full of emotional chaos and push-pull tactics, I went into emotional hiding. I had sex, but wasn’t involved in any aspect of the newness. When I felt that someone was getting to close I would retreat, uncovering not my lack of commitment, but my fear of intimacy. My heart was burned at the stake by A: he loved me, he loved me not. In my eyes I was projecting all of my shit via A. on every new man in my life. It didn’t matter that one man was amazing in bed or that he was amazing at love, I felt like I wasn’t amazing, and that’s all I needed to know in order to not love again. Like you I was also assaulted, which happened during my relationship with A. Most of my trust issues had derived from a combination of the assault and the lack of commitment from A. The story is very complicated and I can’t give it justice via a comment. Perhaps rebounds are there to let us work out our shit and realize what we want out of a partner. Now, I am not saying that a rebound is using a man to refurbish our rickety selves, but I am saying that it is life and that love is messed up in all the right ways. What I learned throughout my rebounds and the endless months of taking care of me and learning to self soothe is that I am only human for god sake. I can’t turn water into wine or love someone that I don’t respect. I think in a way, our rebound doesn’t put us back together. I think we don’t give ourselves enough credit. Perhaps we are really learning how to put ourselves back together and love ourselves again, forgive ourselves again. What I’ve learned: I am fucking awesome, and the guy that I fall in love with will be awesome too. After years of therapy, helping me to deal with my assault, I reclaimed my ability to love and trust again. I am deserving of love. I remind myself every day. I remind myself to be surprised by the possibilities of love and the possibility that I could love and be loved. It’s pretty cool.
Thank you for sharing. You are strong.
Loren, your comment is brave and beautiful. Your experience with assault could have gone so many ways for you after, and yet here you are, strong and sharing your soul. I’m giving you the platform to share more in an upcoming post, which is amazing, and I couldn’t be more honored.
I appreciate your views on rebound relationships. I’m sure I was probably as much of a rebound for him as he was for me, which is why it never would’ve lasted. He wouldn’t give up for many months … finally he realized you can’t hold on to what’s not there.
What’s clear it seems for both of us, and many who fall into relationships that aren’t quite right for whatever reason, is that there will be an end. I think I always knew it — because I wasn’t emotionally invested, as you say.
xo
You so rock. Thank you for your comments Rachel, and thank you for the platform. We were never victims–only survivors.
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Your one line ” …I didn’t see us together in sixty years.” was so telling. In your heart, you may have loved him, he wasn’t a bad guy, you even trusted him, but … it’s hard to stay when you don’t see the future.
Brave post, Rachel. Thanks for sharing,
eden
xox
It was telling. It was just a matter of recognizing it. The signs were there … I just chose to ignore them. Until I didn’t.
Thank you for your comments, Eden. {{hugs}}
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The rebound guy – this made me think about your life Rachel, and the strong, centered, wacky fun, bad redhead that I met today, this year – what a world I see now, people, bouncing, rebounding, seeking a truth they can call their own. Really terrific.
Thank you, sweet. I’m glad I experienced it if for nothing else to learn about the nature of relationships and of course, about myself. Whatever our truth is, sometimes it takes awhile to recognize it.
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