Because I can hear the trains from my bedroom window and I do not feel alone.
Because when you are here I do.
Because I still don't know what you wanted.
Because it wasn't me.
Because you slept in the middle of the bed and I held on to the edge and tried not to move.
Because you never asked if I wanted you to stay that night.
Because if I had said yes you would have gone away.
Because when you touched me it felt like nothing.
Because I was faking it about half the time.
Because even if you knew it wouldn't have made any difference.
Because you were faking it too.
Because I let your criticism make me feel worthless.
Because you ignored me and I let that make me feel worthless.
Because you did not love me and I let that make me feel worthless too.
Because you did cheat on me and you know it and I know it and she knows it.
Because everyone else knows it too.
Because I no longer believe in the story of us.
Because I am worth more than what you have to offer.
Because you never offer.
Because you are the worst kind of liar - you believe that you are telling the truth when you're not.
Because you didn't know that you treated me badly until I said it and you don't realize I'm not the only one.
Because when I needed you I believed that you would come.
Because I couldn't call anyone else.
Because you didn't come.
Because the fever tore through me like fire and the rains didn't come for days.
Because I can't love you anymore.
Because it is your fault.
Because I gave you the benefit of every doubt.
Because I was wrong.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Oh Pinnochio...
I do so wish for a real boy.
Bruises are fading on my back. Returning to parties has been fun - and there is a boy of mild interest. He's not a long term solution, and he is young... but he's tall and sweet with beautiful eyes. I didn't initially give him much thought, but he lingered close to my conversations and when T was ready for fire play he expressed an interest in learning.
T loves to teach, but he is not stupid or blind, and he had noticed M's attention throughout the evening. I have been as clear as I can be about the future (or lack thereof) of our relationship beyond the group events, but he is persistent and stubborn... and I really think he thinks my mind and heart can bend.
As he applied the cups, carefully explaining his actions to M, I thought maybe he was trying to teach me something as well. Or maybe assert some sort of dominance over the situation as well as over me.
Which he can not do.
He can top me, and I respect that and will give - a little - but that's where it ends.
So he demonstrated and with enough force that I was able to achieve the focus of transcendence that I love so much, and then he brought me back a little. To really teach he needed to have his eyes on what M was doing and on my response at the same time, so he needed me to have a clearer head.
M did a great job, running the flames down my back in slow (but not too slow) sensual arcs. He stopped from time to time to just put a reassuring hand on me, paying attention to my breathing. Then he started applying the cups, too gently at first, but quickly adjusting so that he could coax from me the same sounds that T had. Once all of the cups were on he put his hand on the back of my neck, leaned in close to my ear and thanked me. I sighed and wrapped my hand around his calf and squeezed.
Then T was back with the flogger and used it around the cups, increasing his speed and force when I didn't immediately respond. After a little while he stopped and said to M, "I usually have lubricant for this, but I can't find it just now," and he slid a cup about an inch. I whipped my head around and hissed, "Red already!"
"I thought that might do it," he grinned.
"Mean!" I laughed.
"Sadist." He said, simply and moved the cup another half inch before removing it with a loud, heavy pop.
Once I was dressed (but still a total space cadet) M asked me how I felt. "Great!" I said, "Ready for more." T told him that I was not, in fact, ready for more, and leveling his eyes at me said to M, "She tends to go further than she's ready to go." I lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing.
I would have disagreed more with him at the time, but I was barely coherent. It's not subspace, but adrenaline really is a sort of magic. We talked long enough for my head to clear and then we made our way upstairs. I talked to a few of the other members for awhile and when I really began to feel grounded I said goodbye. T said he'd walk me out, but M stepped forward and said he had parked close to me and he would make sure I got to my car OK.
We stood by my car in the cold dark for more than half an hour, me leaning against the hood and him making almost imperceptible progress closer to me. At one point he hugged me close to him (well, it was cold) and when he moved back kept his arm around me. I learned quite a few things about him... most predominantly that he is cute, not smart.
If he had any game at all I would not have slept alone that night. Stumbling over his own thoughts, I could see the effort as he attempted different combinations. He certainly tried to find that phrase or thought that might work, and I almost invited him to follow me home just to reward the effort...
But it was late, and I honestly was looking forward to sleeping alone, spread over the entire bed.
Bruises are fading on my back. Returning to parties has been fun - and there is a boy of mild interest. He's not a long term solution, and he is young... but he's tall and sweet with beautiful eyes. I didn't initially give him much thought, but he lingered close to my conversations and when T was ready for fire play he expressed an interest in learning.
T loves to teach, but he is not stupid or blind, and he had noticed M's attention throughout the evening. I have been as clear as I can be about the future (or lack thereof) of our relationship beyond the group events, but he is persistent and stubborn... and I really think he thinks my mind and heart can bend.
As he applied the cups, carefully explaining his actions to M, I thought maybe he was trying to teach me something as well. Or maybe assert some sort of dominance over the situation as well as over me.
Which he can not do.
He can top me, and I respect that and will give - a little - but that's where it ends.
So he demonstrated and with enough force that I was able to achieve the focus of transcendence that I love so much, and then he brought me back a little. To really teach he needed to have his eyes on what M was doing and on my response at the same time, so he needed me to have a clearer head.
M did a great job, running the flames down my back in slow (but not too slow) sensual arcs. He stopped from time to time to just put a reassuring hand on me, paying attention to my breathing. Then he started applying the cups, too gently at first, but quickly adjusting so that he could coax from me the same sounds that T had. Once all of the cups were on he put his hand on the back of my neck, leaned in close to my ear and thanked me. I sighed and wrapped my hand around his calf and squeezed.
Then T was back with the flogger and used it around the cups, increasing his speed and force when I didn't immediately respond. After a little while he stopped and said to M, "I usually have lubricant for this, but I can't find it just now," and he slid a cup about an inch. I whipped my head around and hissed, "Red already!"
"I thought that might do it," he grinned.
"Mean!" I laughed.
"Sadist." He said, simply and moved the cup another half inch before removing it with a loud, heavy pop.
Once I was dressed (but still a total space cadet) M asked me how I felt. "Great!" I said, "Ready for more." T told him that I was not, in fact, ready for more, and leveling his eyes at me said to M, "She tends to go further than she's ready to go." I lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing.
I would have disagreed more with him at the time, but I was barely coherent. It's not subspace, but adrenaline really is a sort of magic. We talked long enough for my head to clear and then we made our way upstairs. I talked to a few of the other members for awhile and when I really began to feel grounded I said goodbye. T said he'd walk me out, but M stepped forward and said he had parked close to me and he would make sure I got to my car OK.
We stood by my car in the cold dark for more than half an hour, me leaning against the hood and him making almost imperceptible progress closer to me. At one point he hugged me close to him (well, it was cold) and when he moved back kept his arm around me. I learned quite a few things about him... most predominantly that he is cute, not smart.
If he had any game at all I would not have slept alone that night. Stumbling over his own thoughts, I could see the effort as he attempted different combinations. He certainly tried to find that phrase or thought that might work, and I almost invited him to follow me home just to reward the effort...
But it was late, and I honestly was looking forward to sleeping alone, spread over the entire bed.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Swallowing Ice Whole
so cold my breath has shattered
hands moving backwards
there is no spring coming this year,
buds rotting in infancy
there is not enough heat in his whole love to trigger my thaw
not enough whole love in his heat to move my frozen limbs
just a sigh could strain my brittle branches
an intake of breath
some unintended motion and I will break into pieces
too small to feel like anything but dust.
hands moving backwards
there is no spring coming this year,
buds rotting in infancy
there is not enough heat in his whole love to trigger my thaw
not enough whole love in his heat to move my frozen limbs
just a sigh could strain my brittle branches
an intake of breath
some unintended motion and I will break into pieces
too small to feel like anything but dust.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
lonely
Coming home from T's tonight I just felt empty and cold. Like swallowing whole ice cubes on an empty stomach.
I thought about eating something.
I thought about smoking again.
I thought about calling Him...
But even if He answered it wouldn't be enough to fill me, to warm me tonight.
So I went home instead.
I folded laundry.
I took a long shower.
Lonely won't kill me.
I thought about eating something.
I thought about smoking again.
I thought about calling Him...
But even if He answered it wouldn't be enough to fill me, to warm me tonight.
So I went home instead.
I folded laundry.
I took a long shower.
Lonely won't kill me.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Music is good, though after the first few good blows I don't hear anything but my breathing. I try to keep it steady, but sometimes it gets away from me.
I have been awake for hours now, running through my music library, looking for the right rhythm. Making Play-playlists. Looking for the songs with the least amount of emotional baggage. Though not always. Baggage is a sure, cheap, quick way into subspace.
T thinks its grand that I can hit that space, but I don't know if he knows what takes me there. It's sometimes him. Sometimes.
There are a lot of things that T doesn't understand about me. I don't know if he ever will. I'm certainly not going to enlighten him.
T doesn't understand that I can see him coming from a mile away and that nothing he says or wants or thinks is surprising to me. He's so young and he thinks he knows exactly what he wants. Thinks himself so cagey, but I can see his intentions so clearly it feels like I'm watching the movie of a novel I wrote.
T doesn't understand that I will never love him.
I like him, I am not completely devoid of feelings. But I don't think it is in me to love him.
He believes he can wear me down. Chip away at my defenses and he will be in before I even know what hit me. (So to speak).
He doesn't understand that I am not defending anything. He is mistaking truth for defense.
He is more than confused when his usual spells don't work. I think if I gave in, even a little, I would not be so interesting to him.
If I gave in, even just a little, it would be a lie.
He mistakes my calm for stability. He doesn't understand just how shattered I really am. He hasn't figured out that when I am least expressive I am closest to the edge.
Of course, he also hasn't figured out that I am a lot more self-aware than he expects. It surprises him every time.
T doesn't understand why I like the flogger do much when the canes have such a dramatic and lasting visual effect.
He doesn't understand why I cry so fast and so hard - almost from the second I can smell the leather - or why it is almost impossible to get me to end it on my own.
He doesn't understand the pull it has.
I have been awake for hours now, running through my music library, looking for the right rhythm. Making Play-playlists. Looking for the songs with the least amount of emotional baggage. Though not always. Baggage is a sure, cheap, quick way into subspace.
T thinks its grand that I can hit that space, but I don't know if he knows what takes me there. It's sometimes him. Sometimes.
There are a lot of things that T doesn't understand about me. I don't know if he ever will. I'm certainly not going to enlighten him.
T doesn't understand that I can see him coming from a mile away and that nothing he says or wants or thinks is surprising to me. He's so young and he thinks he knows exactly what he wants. Thinks himself so cagey, but I can see his intentions so clearly it feels like I'm watching the movie of a novel I wrote.
T doesn't understand that I will never love him.
I like him, I am not completely devoid of feelings. But I don't think it is in me to love him.
He believes he can wear me down. Chip away at my defenses and he will be in before I even know what hit me. (So to speak).
He doesn't understand that I am not defending anything. He is mistaking truth for defense.
He is more than confused when his usual spells don't work. I think if I gave in, even a little, I would not be so interesting to him.
If I gave in, even just a little, it would be a lie.
He mistakes my calm for stability. He doesn't understand just how shattered I really am. He hasn't figured out that when I am least expressive I am closest to the edge.
Of course, he also hasn't figured out that I am a lot more self-aware than he expects. It surprises him every time.
T doesn't understand why I like the flogger do much when the canes have such a dramatic and lasting visual effect.
He doesn't understand why I cry so fast and so hard - almost from the second I can smell the leather - or why it is almost impossible to get me to end it on my own.
He doesn't understand the pull it has.
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