Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Downward Spiral

Something I’d done irritated him.

He kept asking me what was wrong and I kept trying to explain that there was nothing wrong. I took his face in my hands, kissed him and told him that everything was fine. He didn’t believe me and I didn’t know why. I found out soon enough though.

He’d been in similar situations with the EX. Shutting down and her becoming nasty and making him feel like shit. He had tears in his eyes, while all I could think about was that I’d disappointed him again somehow. I couldn’t make him feel better and that made me feel worse. I was tired and I just couldn’t get the words out of me. I felt like he didn’t really want me around just then, I felt like I do when things get too hard. You know your first reaction is to bolt when shit like this happens. Why do I continually do that? He’s hurting and I run? I hate to be the cause of people’s pain and didn’t realize that it wasn’t me causing it. I was the catalyst, but not the

He told me about the EX and him. About how much she really hurt him. I’d never imagined the depths of pain that he’d had about that. He let me see him. My own pain I can handle. The pain caused by her- how do I deal with that? I started throwing my stuff in my bags and thought I’d just go home and let it go before the shit started and the anger started coming out, and before I got hurt. But then he said something that I didn’t expect- “if you love me you’ll stay”. I hadn’t any choices left then. I had to decide whether or not I wanted to give him the rest of me. Whether or not I could trust him with the bad as well as the good. I looked at him through my
broken heart and the fear. I heard his own fear.

I stayed. Of course I did. I love him.

We talked. He told me about his issues, about the abandonment he fears, about how the EX always made him feel bad, and about how he really wanted to make things work with her. That surprised me a bit. I’ve never felt like that. I am too selfish I suppose. I’ve never wanted to make things work with anyone. I never cared about someone enough to care whether or not things got hard- I did just leave. But he’s different. His pain is one that I understand all too well. And whatever I was doing, whatever trigger I found, whatever he was feeling, I knew how it felt too.

We talked about a lot of things, and the tears in his eyes, the jokes that hide his pain, the same things that I do. Laughing through the tears. Holding onto those pieces of ourselves that don’t allow us to be hurt again. And we were doing it to each other unintentionally. We finally fell asleep in each other’s arms, but neither of us really felt any better I don’t think. All I could think of was how to make him happy again. How to help him smile- and not that fake thing he does. How to make him feel good about himself again. As good as he makes me feel about myself whenever I think about him. I would do anything to make him smile again. Even give up that last bit of me that always runs.

Yes, for him...I will give even that up. Interesting.

Monday, March 30, 2009

My 17th Birthday, Again

I had the most wonderful weekend with Sir.

It was my 44th birthday, but I’ve decided that I’ll be 17 again this year. I liked 17. It was before all that stuff happened and the last time I can remember ever being really happy. Since I have never been happier than when I’m with Sir, I’ll be 17 again this year.

On Thursday, I left work and drove down to MA. It was raining and it took me a bit longer than usual, but that was OK this time because I was looking forward to having an entire three days with him. I was in a good mood and looking forward to having his arms around me- and having mine around him.

When I got there, I brought my stuff in and saw his note. I knelt in the livingroom and waited. Stretching felt good after such a long ride and I love listening to his sounds when the house is that quiet. I can hear the creak of the stairs when he starts down them and the anticipation of his hands on my neck makes my heart jump and the goosebumps start.

After saying hello, and spending some time cuddling and reconnecting, we went out to dinner at a restaurant called Aztec It was Mexican food, and somewhere that he goes to with the Boy. He’d never taken anyone except the Boy there and he thought it was amusing that the waitress spoke English when she knows he speaks Spanish. The smile on his face was wonderful and the food was delicious. Trying to get over the headspace I was in and find my Sir space was distracting with the television on the weather. I felt bad about that, but I think he understands about my distraction- he feels the same way sometimes when trying to get into Wendy-space when I first

He gave me a birthday present. A pair of earrings that he’d had made up for me. One says sleep and the other, dream. He doesn’t like surprises, but he likes giving them to me I think- just a little bit. I love them. For the fact that he thought about me when choosing them.

On Friday, we just couldn’t get going. We wanted to just stay in bed, touching each other and staying together. But finally we got up and he asked me what I wanted to do. I, as usual, had no idea. I really have no concept of things that are around here. I know about the usual, but I think we both like a little more of the not-so-usual together.

He took me to Harvard and the Peabody Museum to see the glass flowers. Those were fabulous. I couldn’t believe they were made of glass, they seemed so real. Full of detail and the craftsmanship was phenomenal. I loved looking at them and could have spent hours looking. We also saw the stuffed animals, butterflies, bees (blue bees?) and the gemstones and meteorites. We spent some time in the Mayan rooms and it was beautiful.

Learning together about things. Sir showing me the wonders of his world. I asked him what his favorite part was, and he told me watching the faces of the people he brought there. I hope he liked my face.

Afterwards, we went to Bartley’s for burgers (I had the Michelle Obama which was spicy) and he had one with jalapenos on it. Then we went to a bookstore and art store. I loved both. I bought some books and just spent some time wandering around with those friends. I could spend hours in bookstores. The artist brushes, paints, and pencils were wonderful to look at, but I really don’t need more of those. But watching the colors was fabulous and seeing Sir’s face watching me was lovely. We had coffee and went home. More time together and martinis and popcorn.

On Saturday, we woke up and walked to the café for a late breakfast. We spent some time on the green watching kids play ball, Sir telling me about EST (?) and generally just learning more things about him. We walked to the store where he’d bought the earrings because he wanted to show the woman who he’d given them to. It was a wonderful store with many neat items, scarves and jewelry, paintings and pottery. We walked to the record shop and searched for some new music. I found one called the Chainsaw Kittens. I’m curious what that one sounds like, but I loved the name so we
picked it up.

We went to lunch with K and K at DM. We shared a curry because we were eating later. We all talked so that K and K could get to know me. Sir told them how we’d met and the smile on his face was the one where he’s very happy. After lunch we had ice cream (coffee for him and caramel something for me). When we finally said goodbye to
K and K, we started to walk home when I just couldn’t resist myself and grabbed him, pulled him into my arms and kissed him big time.

We got lots of car honks for that one and he laughed hilariously. He was happier than I’d seen him. As good as he makes me feel- I love to make him feel that way as well.

We went home and got ready for the play, dinner, and the party.

I couldn’t decide what to wear. If I were at home it would have been harder, but I didn’t have many choices. I wanted to dress conservatively because he wanted a lady to take to dinner and the theater so I wore my gray skirt and a black shirt. My lower heels because we were walking, but the clicky ones that draws attention.

Dinner was wonderful. He had his martini and I had a glass of wine. He had salmon and I had chicken. We talked about jewish food and why certain things weren’t supposed to be eaten. We shared dessert and he was happy again. His eyes smile when he’s really happy. I love watching his face like that. The waiter was funny- he kept saying that it must be our first date. It was because I couldn’t stop looking at him and the smile on both our faces was obvious.

After dinner, we walked to the theater. It was a smallish theater and very pretty with blues and golds in the ceiling. The play was wonderful, although there was a lot of talking. I nodded off a few times, and we took some caffeine pills. After all, we had a party to go to afterwards. He was funny after the play though. He didn’t really like it all that much, but he said that he frequently finds that happening. I told him that I’d liked it. Its rare that I don’t like something. I think its simply because I find the creativity of others attractive and actors - something that I could never do.

The party was nice. A’s party and more young people than LBD’s. But Jay was there, as was Addie and Gurly and Dana. Dana had a surprise for Sir-clover clamps. Don’t worry- I thanked Dana. And he’ll get his later.

Sir tied me in such a way that every time I shook someone’s hand, the crotch rope pulled. And he made me say hello to everyone. Sir Percy and Lestat were two of the people who made it a little difficult for me. We played with RiggerJay’s violet wand set up, although Sir was a teeny bit miffed when Jay zapped him without permission. He’s not too thrilled with the idea of the electricity running through him to get to me, but he liked my reactions to it. He spanked me, and flogged me, but he’s still wrapping the flogger. Another one for us to figure out.

He then got me into tickling again. I had a hard time going back and forth between the pain, the spankings and the tickling and he kept knocking me out of space with the tickles which was disorientating. I was also a little over-sensationed again and shut down a bit. He got worried and nothing I could say made him feel much better. He got to do some things he’d never done at parties- namely sucking on my nipples and finger fucking me. I wondered how that made him feel. I have to try to explain about shutting down and that he’s got to move me slowly from one kind of play to the other. Its....jarring...to be in space and then yanked back out by tickling....and then spanked again- it hurts too much. Maybe another time.

Now isn’t the time to have that conversation. But before we go to another party. You have to try to explain so that he doesn’t think he’s done something wrong.

On the ride home, I fell in and out of sleep and then the shit hit the fan.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Big Thoughts, Little Answers

I’ve let Sir read my journals from the time we met through the day-after the- hotel fiasco. Part of me wonders why I did that, while I know that somehow I’m compelled to be open with him. He’s got his issues too, and to alleviate them, if he knows all that I’m thinking and feeling, maybe they’ll help him too. But the danger in that is that he’ll know everything. I don’t want to edit my journals. They’re mine after all and I don’t have to show him. And editing my thoughts or feelings isn’t the purpose of my journal.

Spent some time shopping with Angel and Mia last night. Now there’s a funny couple. Matched well, but both so confused about themselves as well. Angel identifies as a submissive, but switches with Mia and now is Domme to Q. Mia identifies as a Domme, but switches with Angel and plays with Q. And they wonder why I'm confused!

They are quiet, shy, and very nice- the both of them though. I like to spend time with them actually. But the dead rat was a little much.

The shopping trip was for Q. He wanted to dom Angel out and femme Mia out. And, as a bonus, if we found something for him to be force-femmed, so much the better. I think he’ll be happy with what we came up with. Only thing left is shoes for Angel. She’s picky and it’s the wrong season for boots, but we’ll try again.

Only a few texts from Sir today. It is a rather busy day for him - Tuesdays. And, you know- you’ve been rather clingy lately. Maybe its time to find yourself again. Just because you’ll have to eventually, sooner or later, especially with his trip to SA coming up.

Just how do I do that again?

Friday, March 20, 2009

The Morning

I fell asleep in his arms again. And while I wasn’t as peaceful as I’d usually been when sleeping with him...it was better than I’d slept all week. Too many things still on my mind to relax completely. But no bad dreams.

That’s a bonus. We got up on time...and he was hard again. And we spent some quality time fucking. Always nice and always feels wonderful. And I woke up still in a silly mood from the flogging...dear god...that one always does that to me...puts me in such a good fucking mood....for days. Now that is twisted. Getting flogged and feeling happy and carefree? Yeah. I know.

I wonder if he understands that? I know he likes fucking me...but I wonder if he understand what that one means to me? I think he does actually. We talked about the night...

Of course.....and I teased that the key of course was making me dinner...and we laughed some more. He said, yes...it felt like a daddy dom night. Taking care of me. My toes curled.

We also talked about that hard list of mine. Revisions will obviously be in order now that I’ve bent two of them in such a short time. He also told me that one of his favorite things was the swallowing. I know that. He may have been a bit remorseful about pushing the first one with fisting...but I don’t think he’s all too remorseful about pushing the swallowing. He listened to what I said...and knows me enough by now to know that I still control myself...mostly. I wanted to give him those. He took them for sure...but with my complicity.

But he’s also a little worried. He wonders if his love for me will affect how he can hurt me. I don’t wonder about that. I know it will affect it to some degree- it’s impossible for it not to. The danger lies in the fact that to keep things the same, you resort to that smart ass thing. And I don’t really want to push buttons like that. Please remember...you don’t have to become something else. Just be who you are...things will work out. The fear of loving someone too much to cause them pain? What kind of sick twisted thing is that? But...combined with the daddy- there is a real possibility that those things will change a bit. But, I’m sure...they won’t change at all either. We’re still both suited enough to understand what drives us in that regard. He can no more change his underlying sadistic tendencies...despite his love for me...than I could stop liking that pain...despite mine for him. We’ll be fine. I know that. We’re still learning about each other, and ourselves. It’ll take time.

It occured to me then, that this is a relationship that is new for both of us. We're working at something that has no rule book, no manuals, no instructions. We're making this shit up as we're going along. And that, I think, is the way it should be.

But I’m glad I went to see you, daddy...and I’m glad you came.

Remember: You DO Worry For Nothing

I found an apartment I think. I’d given up finding one on my own and turned to a rental agent. Scheduling appointments with too many people was leaving me cranky and without a place to live. But I viewed three yesterday. The fourth was right on Main Street in Nashua and in a box building with no character at all. Nothing I wanted to live in for sure. One more to look at tomorrow or Monday...but if not, I’m good too.
But the one that I found, well- I had a choice of two. The first had an entire attic area attached. This would have been good for storage, and probably we could have come up with a hard point or two, but all in all...those were the only redeeming features.

The other one. I drooled over. Two bedrooms, one with french doors and a bay window. Lots of closets- LOTS of closets. Character and details everywhere. I’d be happy there. And, I don’t think it’ll bother Sir too much. Top floor so no noises over us. No AC, but I can always put one in the window this summer. Lots of windows. Light and airy.

Afterwards, I went home and took a shower and packed. I hadn’t really thought too much more about what happened last night. I took a valium and felt much better- more calm. I hate those things. They make me sleepy and do weird things to my stomach. But better a tired tummy ache than how I was feeling.

I called Sir and told him I was on my way. His text messages seemed pretty normal. And I began to hope that, while he probably hadn’t forgotten about the meltdown, he’d probably just wouldn’t mention it. At least I hope.

Driving to Natick on valium was a trip. I put the cd on (Evenesence) and rolled down the window. Feeling the breeze and looking at the colors of the songs was nice and mellowed me out. Wearing no underwear under my skirt was nice too. The breeze felt good. Funny how one little pill can alter my mood so much.

Arrived at Sir’s after stopping for tomato sauce.

Now, tomato sauce is a funny thing. I know what I mean when I say it, but that’s one of those words that has a different meaning to a lot of people. Sauce, paste, jarred, canned, with tomato pieces, without...so many options and everyone calls them sauce. I giggled with the thought of coming back with one of each just to make sure that he got what he needed, but then I remembered...he says what he means. Just get plain...sauce. I hope he means sauce and not paste though. That’d be funny.

Anyway, got to Sir’s house. Brought my stuff in, gave him the sauce. Looked at him and told him what a rough day it’d been. I’d been preparing to go into the living room to kneel and center, but he just hugged me. I couldn’t tell though if he was happy to see me yet. He had a weird look on his face.

He’d been making dinner. Chicken tortillas and mole. With rice- that’s why he needed the sauce. A recipe he’d gotten from his mother. I asked if he would like some help and help I did. We talked about his mother, the recipes, got a few hugs and kisses in. And when it was ready. We ate together. I don’t really remember what we talked about but it was nice just sitting and eating something that he liked. And, it was delicious. My first mole. Things were looking up.

After dinner, we sat in his chair, he ate the jello just how I usually do, asked me to get his rope, and he tied my wrists. He’d done some planning for tonight obviously. Then he tied my hands to the strap he’d already rigged up from the balcony. He blindfolded me, asked me how long I thought I could stay with my hands like that, and began with tickles. Why always fucking tickles?

Then flogging. Ah...I thought...finally flogging. I love that. I can’t explain the attraction of that particular sensation, but that’s one of my favorites. I could stand there for hours and be flogged...but it’s usually more than someone could do to me...their arms get tired. He put on some nice music. I liked that one. Got me into a really nice headspace, and along with the rope cuffs, the valium and the relaxed space we’d had together while he was tying...I was feeling very very nice.
H brought out the W-wheel and started on my back, my sides, and my chest. I don’t think he actually knew how much that toy on someone’s chest hurts..while at the same time feels pretty darned interesting. He tried it on himself this morning...I couldn’t really tell what he thought though. He said it hurt...but does he understand the attraction of it? Points to ponder.

My hands had started tingling and so he took them down. Disappointment again. I heard that. What’s wrong with me that I’m not able to do all of the things that I used to? Nothing- except too much time. But he told me not to move. I was in such a good space, that I forgot to ask about moving fingers and chin. Remember that one. Ask if I’m allowed to move my head out of the way and if I’m allowed to flex my fingers and hands. I did both though and he didn’t seem too upset about it. But ask next time woulda?

He was a little surprised that I was able to be flogged, wheeled, and belted...all without moving..except to move my head out of the way and to flex my hands.

I’m wondering if we’ve actually moved a little too fast. He should know that I’m able to do that. He said he’d read my writings, but I don’t think he really understood just how deep these things are in me....how my funny brain works when just told to do something that he wants. I can’t always...but I’m getting better too. That trust thing. The more I trust, the easier that is. But I was tired and he put me to bed. I was still blindfolded and trusted him to lead me. I walked. Unhesitatingly for the most part...at least until the stairs. Stairs are always hard when blindfolded. Must remember to count them the next time I’m there.

I fell asleep for a while and when I woke up..he was downstairs watching tv and had finished more jello. I think that’s cute. Jello. We went back upstairs to cuddle and play. More cuddle I think. I think he’s tired too. We’re both trying to fit too much into a short time. We’ve got time darling...we have that together now.

He laid me on the bed...and wouldn’t let me kiss him. He wanted me to beg. He wanted to hear how I would do that.

Begging. Hunph. I’ve never been really good at begging, mostly because I just accept. I want things...who doesn’t? But I’ve learned to put what I want on the back burner in favor of accepting what’s wanted to be given. But. I never thought about begging as what someone wanted to be given.

It’s interesting how many things are changing in my head now.

But I really wanted a kiss. I love his kisses...the feel of his lips on mine..the closeness, the little wiggle of pleasure that reaches down to my toes. And I thought..just for a second...that yes..I would beg for his kisses. Because I wanted them. Am I supposed to want? Yes. You can do that. Not a slave...you’re his...but you’re still you. This is different. Different feelings, different dynamic. You do want those things.

And beg I did. It isn’t begging as in “please.please.please”, but the only way I could actually beg....tell him why I wanted it...why I wanted him. And something odd happened.....I cried. I wanted it so badly that I cried. What the fuck was that all about?

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Bad Morning After Really Bad Nigh

I don’t want to see him tonight.

He’s getting too close to the shit. The more he does it, the worse its getting. I couldn’t sleep so well before, but now I’m doing it hardly at all. I may have fallen asleep in his arms last night. But I didn’t stay asleep in them. Oh no I didn’t sweetheart. You’re trying to help...I understand that...

I really don’t want to see him tonight. And that’s a first for me. But I will. I can do this. Put this shit back inside and forget about it. Move on. Just do it. My theme for this month apparently...just fucking do it. You’re his. That he doesn’t understand is my fault...not his. But why do I feel like it’s just a little his too? I’ve tried to tell him what this stuff is doing to my head...I tried to be honest about the condition of his toy. But I’m starting to feel like I’m speaking that other language again. He never says anything he doesn’t really think...even if its just a joke. He was upset I asked for the pinches elsewhere else for a while. But you know...he seems like someone too that would just get pissed at me for not telling him either. So tell and get pissed...or don’t tell and get pissed.. Which is preferential? After last night, I’m pretty sure I know. Don’t ask...don’t tell. I will not outright lie to him...but I will not volunteer either.

But I really really don’t want to see him tonight. I’m still afraid. Of looking at him...seeing that in his face. The fear of me...and the one in me. Text message from him as I’m writing this. He’d like to know what I want for dinner tonight.

Absolutely nothing. I don’t think I could stand quite another dinner like last
night so soon.

Big Mistake

We started playing lightly- some tickling, a few spanks, he saw the bruises on my ass from Sunday- I can’t tell what he thought about them, they are very deep bruises but nothing too bad. Gave each other foot massages, I massaged his back, and things just sort of happened from there. He was a little ticked about the nylons, a little ticked about my tickling, he seemed kind of cranky... and I was getting the idea that this was kind of something that wasn’t going to be really too good for me.

How did that make me feel? I was wary again. Still hurting from the remarks at the restaurant. disappointment that I didn’t anticipate him better, nostalgia and loss for Jon and Gerry. stupid for crying because of the hurt... and stupid that he felt he’d had to keep reminding me about the nylons. tired from lack of sleep. Ok. that’s what I was feeling.

But after we’d kind of wound down, as we were snuggling...I fell asleep while
scratching him. Not asleep all the way...but just at that point where reality
meets dream....and I’m neither awake...nor fully asleep. That place- yes
that one...floating in and out....that place where those things happen.

And It Broke My Heart

I tried to not let it, especially since he said that he was joking. But- I’m not getting this whole thing. He asks for me to tell him, wants me to be clarity-filled
at all times, loves me, yet when I tell him that his toy is suffering what may not be the intended consequences of his ownership...I get that look and that tone that tells me that he’s joking...but then....not so much either.

I’m really not trying to tell him what or what not to do. Its still his decision whether or not he does or doesn’t do something. But he should have the information I may have to make it. I’m thinking this isn’t something he’s quite used to either. When did I lose myself? When did I give him that right? I’m not sure I remember that particular negotiation. Might be time to rethink that one.

But anyway, after that, my mood wasn’t quite the same. I’d been hurt....my heart hurt. I’d done something wrong and added to the stress of disappointing him on Monday, the conversations with Jon and Gerry on Tuesday, the stresses of everything else- apartments, Merry, the sheer exhaustion of my life at the moment...I should have just asked to go home.

But I just couldn’t bear looking at his disappointment again tonight though.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

I Don't Even Know What to Say

March 18, 2009. The night Sir found out that some things creep up on me when I don’t expect them to.

We had a nice dinner. He loved what I was wearing and I loved how his eyes lit up when seeing me in it. He was happy that I dressed for him. Interesting that- who does he think I would dress for? And that I’d dress in any other way than what I think would please him? He was happy that I’d gone home to change before meeting him-but less than pleased by the pantyhose. New rule: no pantyhose. That’s fine. I can live with that one. I don’t really like them anyway- but sometimes...a quick fix.

But it was a nice dinner. Vietnamese- Pho88 in Lowell. We sat together in the booth and I was able to touch him. I tickled his tummy- quite by accident, but I loved his laugh. I’ll have to watch out for that. He doesn’t really like to be tickled, while I love his laugh just way too much. We talked about blogging. I hope he does it. Another way to learn what’s in his head. But after dinner, we’d tried to find something to do. We’d tried to find a movie or some music- but too late for the first...and none of the second. We just wanted to be together so a hotel it was.

Disaster that one turned out to be.

I'd had little sleep the previous night. Asleep at 11, up at 2, back down at 5, up at 6:30- bad dreams. Combined with Sunday night, Monday night, the stresses of everything else...That I wasn't really ready for what happened should have been expected. I know how I get when I'm tired.

It started at the restaurant. We’d begun discussing things that weren’t feeling so great for me- physically. The pinches in the same places all of the time are really starting to leave me in some pretty bad pain all of the time. I asked if he’d consider moving them a few mils over a bit...just to give things time to heal. He didn’t take it well.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Another St. Patty's Day

Jon was expecting my call. I haven’t missed one yet. Over all these years, he still knows that I’ll always call him from wherever I am to say happy birthday.

He says he’s doing well. Some new drugs he’s trying are apparently easing the pain up a bit. He sounds old. His voice has changed. Tired. I hope that its just that.

He asked about Sir. Wanted to know how things were going. Wanted to know what kinds of things we’d done...and it seemed like he was asking for a blow-by-blow. Tweaked me kind of. In the past, I’d told him what I’d done...but this time. It felt like he was being a voyeur into something too special to me to want to share. My world has changed. As have my feelings for him.

But then, he asked if I was happy. The voice made me stop for a second.

Trying to figure out what he wanted to hear. And then I thought, I don’t need to figure out what he wants anymore. Why do I still try not to hurt him? What does it matter what he thinks? Just answer the damned question and stop thinking.

So I told him. Yes. I was very happy. Happier than I’d been in a long time, happy with Sir, happy how things were going, and happy that I’d found someone who liked me. Happy to love and be loved. Happy to finally be with someone who could appreciate me....how I was and who I am. I was happy again.

Then I told him about some of the things we’ve done...the funny things like the martini. The nice things like the way he brushes my hair out of my eyes. How I finally felt safe again...that I finally belonged to someone again. He also wanted to know if I was sleeping yet. I laughed and told him of course..same as always. He just laughed and said that he’d hoped I’d outgrow that. I just said that I’d have to grow up first before having time to outgrow anything...and that wasn’t likely to happen any time too soon. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I slept just fine with Sir. I didn’t want to explain that I found something with Sir that I never had with Jon.

I asked him about Jen, Becca, and David and if he’d heard from any of them. He said that Becca and Alan were retired and living in California the last he heard. He lost track of them a while ago. David is still trading time between Canada and Florida, but he sees him once in a while. Jen is still in NY and she’d called yesterday. He laughed with me on that one. Jen never could remember which day was his birthday.

It was all in all a weird sort of conversation. I’d never felt like I couldn’t talk to Jon about anything. But now, I didn’t want him asking too much about things. I don’t want to hurt him by telling him that Sir is more to me somehow. So this is one time that I will just keep my feelings to myself. It felt fake somehow...like two people who’ve known each other a long time, but who don’t really know each other anymore at all.

We finally said goodbye and Gerry came on the phone. I asked him the question that I couldn’t ask Jon...just how bad are things? Gerry told me that things were fine and that I shouldn’t worry about them. He’s got everything taken care of. I should be happy with my new “boy”, that’s what would make them both happy. A master of non-answer that. He did want to know what I thought of Sir’s ass. I told him that he’d like it too....it was kinda cute...and not as much as a handful as he’d like...but that it fit my hands just fine.

We giggled together and he told me about his new neighbors and how tweaked they got at his naked sunbathing. So he made a concession to them. He’s wearing a hat. Fucking hilarious that little swish...god I miss him.

And as usual, I woke up at 2 am. But, Sir was waiting to pick up the pieces from that nightmare. Thank christ for that small thing. I fell in love with him again last night. Somehow, it feels better and better every time that happens.
Happy birthday Meany-Moe. I still miss you, but not so much anymore.

Oh, and Sir told his wife about me today. Funny that one. I never even considered he’d do that, but of course he would because of the boy. He asked how I felt. Actually darlin’...it is true that I care only about the opinions of two people in your world: yours and the boy's. But I'm afraid that your life is gonna get a lot harder now that she knows.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

What the Fuck is a Daddy?

Squicky. That’s the only word that I could think of.

But, Sir has mentioned this word to me a few times. Daddy dom. And, as I’ve found out...he doesn’t say things he hasn’t done some thinking about. But what really fucked me up was waking up like that. Three a.m. again. Of course. At least I woke up sort of giggling...that’s a vast improvement.

And the bonus was that I wasn’t crying in the closet.

Daddy doms. Not a whole lot of information out there and what I found was mostly all kinds of esoteric epitomes and unreachable fantasy-type dreams. I’m getting the feeling that this is kind of like that CrossDressing of Furry thing...not being the most welcomed even in the kink world. Hiding this part of yourself. I’d like to ask someone why, but I think I’m just going to not go there. Who would I ask anyway?

Of course. Mr. Google. And then...Sir.

Oddly, after talking with him. I’m seeing what was pretty obvious. Note to self- spend some more time on finding out these new words. Another note to self- don’t bother.

He is a juxtaposition. Hard yet soft. Sadistic yet gentle. I see a lot of what those sites were talking about. Teaching, guiding...and he said himself...all of those things that make him feel good about being a man...but now that I think about it...all of those things that make me feel good about being his woman.

But what’s even more interesting is that I think...and I can’t be 100% sure about this by any means...but I think...this is part of what I’ve been searching for and haven’t found. Most people have this naturally, but not many have just accepted it in themselves I don’t think. But maybe that’s why things haven’t just ever really worked out for me since J. He had a lot of this in him too. Mentor, teacher, friend. He was all those too. But with Sir, its just something more. Comforting, encouraging, guiding. Lots more ings...

Plus, you know really...I do like him calling me babydoll and princess. And he does feel like a daddy sometimes. I like that too.

Friday The 13th

Friday the 13th. Now, I like the number 13. It appeals to my oddity. But this Friday, too many bad things started to happen. And by bad, I mean...those questions...those feelings that happen when he says something.

Three things that came up in passing...(remember, he says nothing he hasn’t thought about). Fisting, Daddy, and Collars. Three subjects that shouldn’t ever be discussed before coffee.

I told him about these though. I’d used the ride back to work to think. I really should find something to occupy my mind on those rides besides thinking, but...maybe not.

His responses were pretty much what I expected. He’s wondering if I’m upset that he pushed the first; he’s still wondering if I’m pushing the second; and he understands why pushing anything in regard to the third maybe isn’t such a good idea at the moment. That’s a big one.

The Morning Of Boy Meets Girl

Phone call in the early morning. Apparently the boy wasn’t feeling well. He had a rash of some sort. Now to me...its not such a big deal. Rashes? Kids get rashes from looking at something itchy. But. I don’t know the boy. Better be on the safe side.

Sir rushed to get ready to pick him up from school, make a dr. appt, and we both try to push our plan for the day from our minds. Things will change some, but it’ll still be fine. I can’t tell if its irritation or disappointment.

Maybe a little of both. I tell him that things will be fine. I’ll get some breakfast, get on the net. It’s a lovely day and to take care of things. There’s time for us but the boy needs him now. So I’m at the café when he im’d. I ask him about lunch and he asks for what he’d like. I like that about him. No questions or wishy-washy...decisive.

But then, he’s eaten there before and there aren’t 1000 things on the menu.

The Boy Meets the Girl, Kind of

This one is going to take a bit.

Wednesday night. I got a call from Sir after I’d already left work and had started down to his house. Apparently, his ex was going to be late picking up the boy. Sir was irritated. I however was not.

Ok, so I was irritated for him, but I wasn’t irritated. But not that the ex was going to be late. Plans change, things come up. I’m adaptable and pretty even going. And the boy is his son.

But, I got to wondering what he’d be like if our plans had to change because of something that came up with me? Would he be irritated? or was his irritation with C just another leftover from the separation? Hmm. Note to self: no changing plans unless absolutely necessary. That chaos thing. He’ll be ok...but the irritation won’t be good.

But no, generally, I wasn’t irritated. He will let me meet the boy when he’s ready, and when he thinks that the boy will be. And, when he thinks that we’re like actually....might be looking at being together beyond June 15...when that warm weather hits. I have things to do, books, magazines, coloring, ipod. My car and my own brain have so many things to occupy my time.

And also, there’s always shopping.

So, I waited until after the ex picked up the boy. Sir called me and told me the coast was clear. Hmmm. Am I in hiding? Whatever...just words. He didn’t have any notes and was there to meet me...no kneeling and waiting this time. He needed my arms. Needed me to help him drop the irritation and feel good again. I’m glad to know he can find that with me.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Actual Meeting

I met the boy over lunch of tuna (no tomato), chicken pesto panini (for Sir) and mozzarella, basil and tomato (for me). I asked about his spots, and they didn’t seem too bad. I think that they’re either some sort of contact thing, or some sort of reaction. Doesn’t look too bad. No fever, no lethargy so it’s probably something minor.

We also made egg creams. This one had me a little squicked. But I’m finding out all new things with Sir and this is just one more. Tastes a little weird...fizzy chocolate. Not bad, but not a choice I’d make. He’s fun with the boy making them though.

When I look at the boy I see a lot of Sir. It’ll be fun watching what kind of man he turns into. But when I look at Sir watching the boy...he seems a little...I don’t now....sad?....thoughtful? overwhelmed?... and happy. I’ll have to watch this some to figure it out. It could just be that circumstances today have skewed things a bit.
We talk about legos, clarinets, and Spaceballs. He’s ticklish too. He’s got a wonderful laugh.

We went for a walk at the Cove. The boy’s foot fell into the cove and he swore with a word that I'd rarely heard coming from a nine year old without soap following closely in its wake. I looked at Sir, who didn't seem upset at all and then I started laughing. Such language from a nineyear old....but then, it’s just language, and it was appropriate in the situation.

I listened to a clarinet and trumpet. Father and son playing together. I’m not sure of the music, but watching them play....I fell in love with Sir again. And I really like the boy.

They go off together to the doctor’s office. I’m left alone in Sir's house (he later told me that he'd never felt comfortable with anyone enough to leave them alone in his house). It seemed empty...too quiet and I felt strange there. I sat outside for a while, enjoying the sunshine and weather.

Playing Hooky, Again

I’m starting to think that three days is the maximum amount of time I can comfortably spend away from his arms. That might be pushing it.

So anyway, the boss is on vacation and I thought that I’d give myself permission to play hooky another day. I left a message for the boss, telling him I had appointments on Thursday and that I’d be out of the office.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Decisions, Decisions

Ok, so can I just say you that menus with like 1000 things on them drive me insane? I really need to learn to just make a choice and stick to it. I know I'll eat it anyway. Or better yet...just ask Sir to help you. It’s not needy ..its just asking. Yeah? But not being able to make a stupid decision on a fucking menu? Isn’t that just kind of stupid? Well, kind of. But he’ll understand.

But first..the Movie: Watchmen. Imax. Wasn’t as cool as I thought it was going to be. Some really hot parts, and a bdsm theme throughout. We all laughed at the appropriate places...for us. Odd that nobody else got the joke. Not odd, odd...more as in they don’t know what they’re missing odd. Feeding Sir popcorn, falling asleep on his shoulder, touching him all that time. Really? I could give a rat’s ass about the movie...but it was a great time with Sir.

The deli. Totally fun, loved being with Belle. Loved the way she looked at me and Sir...as if she were seeing something she wasn’t quite sure about. I’m sure I’ll hear from her about that one. And feeding him cake and ice cream. It was all I could do to stop myself. I wanted to taste the chocolate on his lips.

Afterwards, more time together. Although by this point, I was kind of felt out. Everything kind of felt super-enhanced and just too much sensation. Overloaded. I have to watch out for that.

And leaving in the morning was just as bad as it always is.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

And Sometimes You Don't

So, we had a lovely day and spent time together just being happy with each other. Leaving in the morning was difficult again. But I was happy and looking forward to the weekend. Seeing him and knowing that while somethings have changed...it just made things even better. The change was in me...and in him. We’re both a little petrified...but we hide it well. I think.

But then, when I’m not looking...shit hits me.

He’s asked for a letter. It occurs to me that I should have maybe kept this part of my personality hidden for a while longer. Instead of having the cute boys run and hide because I’m smart, I’ve managed to find one that hunts me down for sport. I’ve really got to start remembering that he is a sadist..but then again, I find that strangely comforting too. Does he really want to know these things? And why can’t I just make up something? You know why...you do feel these things, he’s asked to hear them, and you can’t give him anything but the truth. Good or bad, take it or leave it...he’s asked and you always do what you’re asked.

I should really try to remember that I don’t have to do that. Or do I? But anyway, he wants to know what I expect or want from him. What’s important to me, how he can help me find those things. Just what do I say to those things? I wonder how this one will come out.

How do I say to him that I expect nothing? How do I say to him that I expect everything? And do I really expect at all? Just what is he asking me? Maybe some of these conversations would be better off having when we’re actually together. No. That wouldn’t work. You can’t think properly yet when you’re with him. Don’t even try that one.

This has me worried. How do I tell him that really, when all is said and done, I can’t imagine wanting anyone more than him? That time with me is really all I’m hoping for at this point. I can’t make myself hope for anything else. I’m not able to ask...and I don’t think he’s able to give.

Or for good god...just go do it. It’ll be fine...stop worrying and just do it. There is some good news though. He’s fond of foot massages. That’s a good thing. Because like...you know...you’re fond of feet.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

You Worry For Nothing

Remember this. You do this a lot. Most of the time you worry for no good reason.

Playing Hooky

I was due back to work on March 4. But I missed Sir so much, I did something that I hadn’t done a whole lot of. I called into sick to work. I told my boss that I’d picked up something in San Antonio (that is the truth), and that I wasn’t feeling well (also, kind of the truth). What I’d picked up was a serious case of missing Sir....and feeling like that...wasn’t making me feel all that well either.

I planned on leaving the house around 7, but you know when you make plans...doomed to having other things put that monkey wrench in them. I had to bring little flower to school, shower, unpack enough to find things, clean my car off from the snow that came while we were away, and I just couldn’t get out of the house until long after I’d planned. I was jittery to be late, and jumpy because I didn’t really know how we’d be after that SA thing. And I was excited just to be with him. I missed him more than I thought and was getting tweaked with all of the things that kept popping up to prevent me from actually getting there.

But, finally I was on the road and heading towards Sir.

This is one thing that I’ll never get used to. When I drive alone, I have time to think. And you know those thoughts aren’t always things you need to think about.

But thinking that morning was even more difficult. I kept running things in my head, I kept trying to figure out what we’d say to each other...how things would change now that I’ve gotten goofy.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Return from Far Away

On March 3, I returned from San Antonio. We got back to the airport, collected our luggage, and went back home. I was exhausted from the week. The stress of being with K, the emptiness of being without Sir, the happiness for my son’s accomplishments, all combined to make me kind of numb.

That, and I’d been regretting just a little bit that I’d told Sir what I was feeling. How is he able to do that? Why do I let him?

I didn’t actually know how things would turn out with that one and I was a little scared. I know what I said, I know what he said..but saying and believing aren’t always the same you know?

What if things were different now? What if they weren’t? Somehow, I think things should be different, but I’m also a little sad if they are. I like the way things have been going. Maybe too much.

Why do I even think of this shit when I'm this tired? I know how I get. Take a fucking nap. Things will look better tomorrow. I probably won’t feel so weird. I hope.