Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Rope Dancing

I finally told Sir about this blog. He was a little surprised that I'd been keeping it for so long without telling him about it, but I reminded him that we'd discussed everything that was in it and that he'd seen most of it already. I'm not a huge fan of keeping secrets and I'd never keep something as ridiculous as my confusion from him. Mainly because making me uncomfortable in my head is one of the things he likes to do the most.

We did have a discussion about my listening skills though. He confirmed my suspicions that, although I do listen very well, the things I hear aren't always interpreted in the way he intends them to be. That's the problem with mind-reading....unless you're the person in charge of the mind at that moment, things are bound to projected into what is heard.

The other thing we discussed was rope. I finally told him how rope had made me feel lately. And that feeling is pretty much I can take it---but I would just pretty much prefer to leave it. At least for right now.

That feeling surprised me a lot. I love rope. I love the feeling of rope wrapped around me, I love the dance of rope, I love scratchy rope, soft rope, rope that is just lying (not laying) around for me to touch...heck I'd go so far to say that very often I used to try to have to control my tongue from licking my lips whenever I saw rope in his hands. I used to get a butterfly feeling in my stomach whenever I saw him with his rope bag and I very often went to sleep dreaming of his rope covering me.

So feeling like rope was an annoyance really bothered me. He'd asked during our conversation if it was "rope" or the way "he did rope". I actually don't know the answer to that and it bothers me.

We met at a rope class. Our first date involved rope, he teaches rope classes, we went to Shibaricon together, and because of his love of rope, I've begun my explorations into rope topping. I look at him and rope as intertwined in my life (pun intended) and I loved being on the receiving end of those dances.

I think part of the problem is that the more we've gotten involved in rope, the more often we're either just learning or teaching it. We seldom play with it anymore. In fact, we've played with it so infrequently that the last time he'd tried to tie a takatekote on me, I could barely get my muscles to accept it. When he tied me, it was like my body was rejecting a foreign substance.

Part of the problem may also be that as I am learning rope, I pay attention to the tying instead of the feeling. I want to see how things are done, I want to learn how the knots are tied, I want to learn. And learning sort of precludes being in that nice little rope space that I used to find so easily.

And I think part of the problem is that there's just too much rope here in rope-centric Boston. Suspension is the new black (I forget who said that but it was either Trialsinner or Topologist); every ropester just wants to do suspensions, take pretty pictures, and make the young pretty girls fly. But there's very little being done AFTER one is wrapped in rope. There's no real "scenes" involving rope that aren't involving suspensions, and there's hardly any rope that's being done as part of play that isn't THE PLAY. I wonder about that.

Rope isn't the end-all for me. It's a beginning...a pathway to other things. But lately, being around all these rope tops who love suspension, it seems to me that rope has become a means all unto itself. I think people have forgotten that rope started as a means to restrain the bottom for the other delicious things that happen when you've got a captive bottom tied up. And I think that's part of what I'm feeling right now. I don't know whether I should thank or curse Mark Yu for this one though :)

And finally, I think that part of the problem is that Sir is kind of ambivalent about rope right now too. He tells me I can ask for it, but I really don't want to do that. I hate to ask him for things like that when I know he's not really in the mood for it. I'm actually more afraid that he'd acquiesce to my request and I'd end up feeling as if I just wanted out of it. I'd feel like he did all that work for nothing. And when things become work, they tend not to be so much fun anymore.

I need to find an answer to this soon though. I miss my friend a lot. But what I miss more are the dances Sir and I used to have. It isn't the rope I miss, but the connection and attention that comes through the strings. That's what I'm finding annoying right now. I think that we're dancing but counting the steps, rather than dancing as if no one is looking.

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