I have a feeling that this month will be about balance. That balance I had, but have somehow seem to have lost.
Another weekend with Sir and another Monday feeling bereft. That’s a good word to describe what I’m feeling. Emotions stripped bare, mind robbed of reason, and my heart deprived of that whisper of life that he brings to me whenever I look at him. I’m pissed that it isn’t getting at all any easier. It has to sooner or later right? I need my balance back.
On one hand, I’m happy to have someone to feel like this about, who feels the same way about me. But on the other hand, what have I lost in myself that makes me feel so totally spent when I leave him? Why did I ever think I could keep myself protected from these feelings? And why am I mourning the loss of that protection so much? I feel like crying, while at the same time I feel like screaming to the world how happy I am. How to balance the emotions when leaving him?
This is different. He is different. His own vulnerabilities and uncertainties don’t make me wonder if he’s the one that I’ve waited so long to find, they make me worry about him, care for him, and want to help him by doing everything to make his life easier and happier. I hope I do that. I try. Its hard though. I’ll be the first to admit that. Going down this path is harder this time because I do love him in a way that I haven’t loved anyone before. I love him as he is, with all his issues and uniqueness. I love him for his quiet strength. I love him for the way he talks with me, listens to me, and wants to hear me. The problem lies in that I have learned over the years to keep my thoughts to myself, my ideas in the back of my head, and to listen and learn from others, while keeping my own counsel. How to balance that.
How to balance the memories of what was, what I never expected to find again, with the new ones that I have now found...and more than I’d imagined. What brought me to this point? All that I learned from others is only a small part of what I can learn with Sir. He brought me to a space last night that I hadn’t been in for too many years. Yes, I can put myself into a really nice space from pain, turning it into what I need to get through, feeling pleasure instead of pain, feeling someone else’s pleasure in the pain. But this was different. I didn’t go there myself; he led me there. And that’s what caused the tears.
God, how I wish he hadn’t wrapped the whip...if he hadn’t done that I knew where I was going. Why did I have to stop him? What was I afraid of? Going there with someone again or was it really that the preservation learned made me stop? Probably a lot of the latter...and just a bit of the former I’d guess. Am I truly ready for that final step? Not going there on my own....being taken there by another. And will he be ready for what happens when it does? I’ve tried to warn him, I’ve tried to tell him about what happens in that space, but have I told him enough? And how do I explain it? That place where no words will ever be possible....does he know me well enough for that yet?
It was the first time we’d played like that where we were both naked. The blindfold, the sensations, the music, the storm, the scent of his shirt, the feelings of every breath, every movement. The rope on my wrists. Balancing giving him my pain, and keeping it for myself. I have no problem with that balance apparently. The nipple clamps, the flogger, the whip, the wheel...the sensation of the shawl, his hands, smelling his scent on his shirt, hearing him, feeling him...listening to the storm, the raindrops, feeling the breeze, hearing his voice. Everything was perfect, the combination of everything was perfect. That’s what did it. That combination of sensation, impact, his being naked, the storm and the music. You know that’s what did it. He gave me something for every part of me...something for every sense to feel. I could have easily exploded in that space. That dangerous place where neither thought nor reason, or even safety can prevent me from harm. That place that I can’t give him....he has to take it from me. He almost did that. I’ve gotta give him credit for learning that much about me in such a short amount of time....he’s got all the pieces and is putting them together. That’s where my challenge begins.
Was it that I still haven’t found that last thing that will cross that invisible line between obedience and submission? We had this discussion before. The difference between the two. Why is it that I can’t ever seem to put into words what goes on in my head with these sorts of theoretical discussions? What exactly caused me to pull back? That’s what pisses me off even more this morning. Why wasn’t I ready for him to lead me there? What am I still holding onto? How much is obedience to him...and how much is the submission of myself to him? Where is that tipping point on the scale?
I love him. But do I trust him completely yet? Or is it not a matter of trust, but of belief in that trust? I still doubt myself, that much is for certain. That doubt that I’ve always had...the doubt that when all is said and done, that I am just not wanted....that leap between knowing that I am in this instant...and not worrying about the next. The doubt and fear of being hurt again. That’s what’s killing me inside every time I leave him. That fear that there just won’t be anymore. The phone call that says he’s done...the hurt that always comes. My last stumbling point. To give up the fear of being hurt, with trusting that I won’t be. Why can’t I, who can convince myself of almost anything....not convince myself to just stop being afraid of a broken heart? The crushing defeat is why you stupid idiot....you know you hate to fail. And that’s a colossal one to have to go through again.
He’s shown me in so many ways that I can trust him...but do I believe it? Where is that balance? He’s never given me a second’s pause to think I can’t trust him, but then I’ve always been in space from my choice, and within that choice is still some conscious thought...and that safety I’ve had to keep. Do I trust him enough to let him take me to that place where he really does own me....and where the most damage can be done if I’m wrong? Can I afford to be wrong? Can I afford not to take that chance? I have to talk to him about this. He needs to know where I find myself with this, and maybe he’ll understand what I can’t seem to say right. Maybe he knows why I find this so difficult. To let go that final part of the safety I’ve had to keep. Maybe he can help me figure it out. If he knows, maybe we can figure it out together.
If he knew how close he was last night to that, would it have changed anything? And will I be ready when it does?