into the neck

it's a rare moment when my memory fails me this much. i pride myself on my memory, particularly my ability to recall moments that contain a strong emotional element. but i have no idea when this began.

it's a small thing.
small as in short-lived and fleeting.
small as in easy to ignore once the moment is shaken off yet again.
and even though it isn't really small, it's something i've only voiced to one person,
perhaps two, and one i've invested a lot of energy keeping secret.

it is the moment a partner, when lying on top of me, expels that final deep breath of a finish/satisfaction/release out from his lungs and into the curve of my neck.

i've flinched away quickly so many times the physical response is automatic now. and time and time again i've silently watched the other person assume i'm merely responding to physical discomfort. i let him assume it tickled, or perhaps was too loud in my ears. i let him assume something or anything other than what i was really going through in that moment.

but last night was different.
the flinch and shift that typically shakes off the feeling while putting me out of range of further exhales wasn't fast enough or far enough and my neck caught a second deep breath.
and that was it.
the breaking point.
the moment it was too much to keep in and i finally admitted to someone the physical and emotional disgust that runs through me every time it happens. and even though i know the person above or next to me isn't that person for a split second they are the target of all my revulsion which always spoils the moment, no matter how briefly the sensation is.

so after last night, a partner of mine finally knows not to breathe into my neck like that, but i'm left with the empty-handed frustration of not knowing where and when and with whom this all began and that to me is equally upsetting. i was in tears last night not only relaying the experience of a lover becoming, even for a split second, something awful and revolting, but also this blankness in my mind in place of the momory of where it all began. when it all begin.

i can only think of one person i've been with that i was only with because i couldn't say no. who, even at the time, i knew in some part of me that they were manipulative and abusive and repugnant. but somehow i can't seem to connect the two things together. there doesn't seem to be any flavor in this memory either of this other man or the time, just after college, when we were involved.

so i don't know where to go.
i don't know where it's from.
i don't think i had any sexual relations as a child.
i know many women who were molested as kids and i don't have any of the behaviors i see so prevalently.
so what is it?
when is it?
who is it?

and how can i get rid of this violent response i have that puts a stain on all these lovely moments?