Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Half Empty or Half Full?

Today is the midway point of the year. So many things have changed for me in the first 180 days, it’s hard to think about all of them in proper perspective.

Merry is still bugging me for late night Denny’s with tickles included of course. Despite the several hundred dozen times I’ve told her that I love Sir and don’t want to meet her for "and stuff", she still tries to make me feel badly about it. I’ve come to the conclusion that until she’s got herself fixated on someone else, my contact with her will have to be limited. She wants to go back to midnight meetings after gigs, sneaking around behind her wife’s back, and by extension- Sir’s. I just won’t do that to someone I love. Despite my love for Merry, I can’t imagine my life without Sir in it and I will do nothing to jeopardize the trust he’s given me with his heart. We’re too fragile in our relationship at this point, each of us trying to figure out a way of believing that we just can trust each other with our hearts. That’s difficult for both of us.

I’ve had many people who knew me with Merry continuing the questions about me and Sir. It’s hard to explain to them in a way that they understand apparently. Even Belle has said that many people have asked her what was "up" with me and Sir. I’m not sure what they mean by that though. Don’t they "get" us? Do they wonder "what" our relationship is? Can’t they see the attraction between us when we’re together? Most of our joint friends do, it’s the ones that are solely mine that seem to be the problem. Can’t they picture the giggle-slut tickle-shoe girl with the big bad scary sadist? Not that he’s scary at all to me, but what exactly is people’s problem with Sir and me?

Sir and I have been to parties where things were accepted, left unquestioned, and even down-right understood. P, Belle, G, C & A, RJ, M & K....they all "get" it. And now that I’ve written this out, I get a sense of what the problem may be. All of those people, if not involved in a D/s relationship, at least have been around long enough, or are new enough in their own explorations, that they don’t need an explanation. And, we’ve been around all those people enough for them to "see" me and Sir together....and know that we do belong together, and that I belong to him. It’s the others, the ones I first met through Merry, that don’t seem to get it. Is it like they're misfit toys who long for just acceptance, rather than search for what they need? They accept what is given, rather than find what they want? Or maybe that is all they want. Just to be accepted in the kink world, doing kinky things, having what Belle so fondly refers to as her "kinky family"...the companionship of those outside the norm, company of familiar freaks.

And then there’s people like T who just piss me off with the neediness that comes out in the open whenever there’s even a half-way adorable dominant in the same room. She’s what I’ve always hated in myself and tried so hard to squash....the need to be needed....and the lengths that one goes to, doing whatever everyone asks, even things that would make a sane person actually feel like a whore, just to feel needed. The way she goes about it however, is just pissing me off. No sweetheart, Sir does NOT want to whip you, touch you, or do anything else to you. He wants someone he can do these things with. He’s found someone that he can tie up, hurt, make cry, smile, laugh, meet his friends, and go out to dinner with, all within the span of a few hours without it being forced. He’s found someone who loves him, and not just his rope, his toys, or his domly ways.

And speaking of domly ways, Sir has apparently decided to make me eat my words. By that I mean that I’ve given him ownership, and he’s now decided to take that out for a run. My hair, my nails, my wardrobe....and he’d like to order for me when we go out to eat. Lots of changes in those things and I’m struggling to keep up with all of the new rules. I want to figure out how to come outside of my own comfort zone with these things. Its’ been a long time and I’m struggling. Maybe five years was too long to wait. But then, five years was apparently the right amount of time too.....it was only now that I’ve met Sir...and before this....I don’t think I’d met anyone who came even a little close to him.

To hell with that, I’m not struggling, I’m fighting myself with them. Now why am I doing that? They’re all small things he’s changing...he’s not demanding that I give up my friends, my job, my life...He just wants me to show him the real me in addition to the feeling of being the real me. My real hair, my real nails...and not those things that are a mask. That’s the problem though, my masks have been what’s kept me safe all this time. Does he really want me to let go of those? Do I want to give those up? That’s a fear....will he like me without those things? Interesting question. To become myself, I have to give up the trained behaviors and looks that I’ve put on to prevent others from getting too close.

I’ve been crying so much recently that its starting to become a drain on me. I told him when he first started this, that I was afraid of letting all of that out of me....that I wouldn’t be able to stop once he started. I don’t think that he really knew how much is in here. How much I’ve kept locked up, put away, and beaten back. All those little doors in my mind that hold all of those things that I didn’t want to remember or think about ever again. He’s taken all those keys and have opened those doors. When I gave him the keys, I really didn’t think he’d do that. And he’s finding out just how scary all that shit really is. The girl that got stuck who now pretends to be a woman because she had no choice in the matter. God damn that daddy side of him. He wants to slay all those monsters, but to do it, he’s gonna put me through hell and back first. I’m afraid of what it’s going to look like on the other side. Those are the things that kept me strong, safe, and away from pain. He wants to be my safety and strength...but can I really let him be that?

He wouldn’t like that little girl. That scared, lonely, hurt shy little girl who clung to anyone who could make her feel anything. When even feeling bad was a feeling I looked for because it was just something to feel rather than nothing. I wonder if he can understand feeling nothing? Actually being so alone that no one can penetrate enough to cause joy? To cause anger? Protecting myself from all of those things that I always felt I caused in others. And then the drugs started. Trying like hell to feel something other than other people’s emotions. Something in ME. Anything. And then I met D.

I wonder how many of these young kids that I’ve seen recently will look back on all of this and remember it fondly. Or will they wish they’d waited until they found love.

I had a conversation with L and J at Countess’ party the other night. She told me about a party coming up on the 18th and wants me and Sir to come. She said that she loved the tickle scene that we did and that my laughter was wonderful. She also said that she was impressed with Sir’s little trick...and that I must really love to be tickled. I looked at her like she was nuts and said that I hated to be tickled...that’s why Sir does it. She said it was surprising...I looked like I was enjoying it. This is what I mean about tickling....everyone thinks because you’re laughing and not crying that it must be a good thing. And this is what I mean about Sir...if I’m crying it must be a good thing. Oh darling...it’s good for you because it turns you on to have that much power over me....but as for being good...I wish I could be sure.

My Night on the Other Side

I love rope.

But my fondness for that particular toy has always been from having that wonderful feeling of being wrapped in that hug, feeling the lengths of rope being pulled, twisted, knotted, and tightened...the wonderful high I experienced during the dance, and the experience of using something so textural and artistic during play.

I'd tried to tie before, but my heart was never really into it. I'd focused inwardly on the rope and instead of trying to see the beauty from the other side, I'd felt confused and angry that something I loved so much turned into something I had a hard time caring about. I didn't want to lead the dance. I also wanted "something more". Something I found with Sir. And I've been quite happy enjoying that dance with him. And look forward to so many more of them.

But lately, I've been wondering more about rope.

A lot of it has to do with the fact that I'm in a relationship with someone who is really good at it. And, some of it has to do with the fact that I'm quite often bored to tears standing around watching others, when he can't be with me. I'm also pretty sure Shibaricon had something to do with it.

I'd toyed with the idea of actually really learning to tie and the more I thought about it, the more I wondered how it would feel to be the one tying.
I talked with my sweetheart about my interests. I'd talked to friends about it, and I talked to one special woman about whether or not she'd consider being my practice bunny. My sweetheart is supportive and my friends are, I think, curious to see what happens. Everyone has been see-sawing between wondering if I can do it, and wondering why I would. Even I was wondering those exact things.

Last Saturday night, I attended a party with friends. Sir couldn't be there though and I was faced with another night of texting him from the party and missing him too much. I thought I'd try my hand at tying. Nothing like going into something feet first.

NorthernBelle consented to be my first victim. As I tied her, something very important occurred to me. I'd never actually witnessed the back of a karada being done! I can't tell you how silly I felt...thinking I could do something I'd only watched others do, and then only from the front. But I heard something in my head say, "there's no such thing as wrong, just different". I carried on and didn't do too badly of a job. Belle was nice and we had fun.

But afterwards, I told someone about my confusion with the back of the karada, and after a few seconds of mild teasing, he showed me how to do it better. It was nice learning how to do that.

Later on, someone else showed me how to do a hair tie. I am confident that I could do that one now.

Later that night, when I was telling Sir about my night, he'd asked me how tying made me feel. I had to think for a minute and finally had to admit that I wasn't sure yet. It was fun, it was interesting, and it kept me from being too bored at a party without him. But I'm still not sure if I can ever find the same feelings I love from the other side of the rope.

But, I'm still going to learn, to prove to myself I can do this. I also agree that knowing how to tie, may also make me a better ropebottom. One can hope anyway :)

And, to all the local ropesters that will now have their brains picked to death by a curious ropeflower trying to find her way on the other side of the strings....thank you for your patience!

Monday, June 1, 2009

Teetering on a Balance Beam

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?