Like aisha earlier this week, i find myself in ‘liminal time’…a time betwixt and between. She does a great job of explaining it here so i won’t re-do what she has said so adroitly there. Go. Read. Become addicted to her.
i’ve been struggling this week. Can you tell? The darkness fills me and i must release it lest it sweep me under, and away. That sounds dramatic, but…in many ways, tis true. i need an outlet, and this blog is that for me.
It took me until Tuesday to begin to formulate the words to this…and i’ve been working on it all week. And i just deleted the first 150 words and am starting over.
This is so fucking hard.
i’m so tired of crying.
The fucking cursor even annoys me, waiting patiently for me to put fingers to pads and type. To explain. The words dance around my head, evading my quest to put them neatly on virtual paper. To expose my soft heart here. To lay myself vulnerable to you, dear readers in a way i *never* do in public.
i’m not brave like sin, strong like sephi, thoughtful like aisha. i’m not sfp, with her ability to handle all the blows of this lifestyle, and roll with them, and move ahead.
i didn’t think i was, anyway.
writing fiction lets me hide. Let’s me hide the vulnerable soft belly of me, while entertaining YOU.
i hurt a Man i love.
Cut Him down like i was a chainsaw, and He, the tree.
in fairness, i’d tried, tried so fucking hard to tell him. Some of you know, i cried on your shoulders. Got guidance. He was my first Dom. But He didn’t….feed me?
He got my feet wet with an ocean of sensations. He cared for me, i know He did, but He didn’t always show it.
And when i brought my changing feelings to Him, he told me i was being ‘womanish.”
And i was not a woman to Him.
i was a slut.
(the curser blinks while i re-absorb the shock..it hurts as much now as the first time i read that text from him this summer.)
i *am* a slut, we’re all in agreement on that. But i am too a woman, with feelings and needs that went unmet.
Time passed, time together slipped away. It’s hard to maintain a relationship when only one person is doing all the maintaining. OH, he’d talk if i called, or text if i started it…
…this is not a rant on Him. He is who and how He is. And for a long long time i accepted that. As i came to learn and grow in this lifestyle, as i played with others, read blogs of friends, i could see, feel and know that there was something missing in my relationship with Sir.
i tried to work it out with Him a few months ago. He did try…a wee bit…but then slipped back into old routines. i wanted what He’d told me long ago He wasn’t into…i want a Master/Sir to own me, to collar me, to give me rules and guidelines.
We met Sunday. The sex, as always was so good. He makes me laugh. Even during spankings, even when he’s biting my clit, even when He’s fucking the bejezuz out of me…He made me laugh.
it was time to go. i dressed in the bathroom, rehearsing what i was going to say. That i’d been searching for another Dom, that i’ve been talking a bit to this new Man, but not committed yet, and that i was sorry because…our relationship was no longer working for me…
and yet…… i love Sir B.
i love *hard*.
i give it my total committment. That’s not going to end just because..well. i’m jumping over the heart part (major Freudian typo there…i was trying to write ‘hard’ part) again.
classic avoidance, right aisha?
He came into the bathroom as i was attempting to detangle my wildly knotted hair. He carried a long box with Him, tho i didn’t see it at first. My glasses were off and i looked at his face.
He’d found something old, from his family, something different, He said.
“Because you know nilla, collars are not my style.”
“Because you know nilla, you’re different. Different from any sub I’ve ever had. ”
He pulled out the box, opened it.
Inside was a thick, smooth gold necklace.
“This is what you’ll be working towards this year, little girl.” He said.
Typing this has brought me to tears again.
i cried, leaning against Him. He misunderstood, thinking i was overcome with joy.
When i am overwrought with emotion, i lose my voice. It just disappears …gone. aisha likely understands more about it than i do. i couldn’t speak, just crying on His shoulder. He hugged me and kissed me, laughing.
How could i explain? i hadn’t the courage. i hadn’t the voice.
i am not a good girl. i was not a good woman. i did not fix this prettily. i don’t do good with verbal words, that’s why i write, dammit.
i came home, interacted with my family. And i wrote to Him. Explained about my deep, deep sorrow that i could not accept His collar. i cried, knowing this would hurt Him deeply, as it was the one thing He could give me.
i would have taken Him if i’d only had more of Him. But it is obvious to me that He spent time and energy finding the right symbol. And i wanted it.
i wanted it so badly.
i don’t have a lot of life experience in ending relationships. i only ever had a few boyfriends, and oft-times circumstances ended it. i recall only ending it with one guy, the guy i was going to marry.
that didn’t go so well, but ….it was long ago. i moved to get away from him, and lets leave it at that.
Sir B…You were my first Dom.
You led me to the edge of the cliff, where i had been peering for so very long. You held out Your hands, and encouraged me to leap.
i fell for You so hard.
i’m sorry it ended the way that it did. i did it. i hurt You. and i …i am so sorry for that.
i am a slut. But i am also a woman.
and sometimes it hurts.
Phew. what a week nilla has lived through since i started this. On Tuesday Sir texted me.
Seems i wasn’t the only one having two sleepless nights back to back (though i doubt he cried himself insensate as his slut did…)
Seems He’s not willing to let me walk away. And He’s taken this as a HUGE wake up call.
It seems that the phoenix is about to rise from the ashes of the relationship of old…and we will see how it evolves from here. There are talks, and questions, and talks and more happening between us. And in between us, another Dom. When did my life become so complicated?
He wants to show me that he understands all that happened before. He put it this way “you’ve grown up right in front of me, and i didn’t see it, nilla” .
So, *nodding to self* …huzzah to second chances, and to Doms who are not afraid to admit when they have fucked up. And who aren’t afraid to say the “L” word when it comes down to it.
and hurrah to me, sub girl, who finally stepped up and said this isn’t working. It’s the hardest thing we ever must say.
except for goodbye.
i’m so glad i don’t have to say that now.