Thursday, Dec. 18, 2003 - 1:06 a.m.
Cost of the War in Iraq
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Tiny Hand Grenades Tearing in my Heart
I keep seeing things that start me crying again. Little things. I am really doing quite well. I am not walking around sad and depressed and crying like before. I think it is because I am spending so much time at home these days... no rushing about, so I actually am up to date on dishwashing and laundry. My front livingroom cleaned up. Getting a comic page or two done a day. Up to date pretty much on my artwork. (I haven't started the colors on my doggie cover yet, but it will be done and I will post it before I go to bed tonight). In a sort of routine for my doggie walkies, going to the cafe to eat and draw etc. So all that is good.
But it is like little grenades. I was at the gym working out. I was watching this guy do flies. I thought "nice arms"... I was thinking how although guys are a pain and I usually don't want a relationship with them, since most seem to live in this straight world where women are not me... that I like their bodies oftentimes. Actually I like wide shoulders, and muscular arms and hands. I am not into feminine hips and muscleless arms. So I was thinking this and admiring this guy's arms. (he was kinda cute too. friendly face, nice longish hair)
And then I thought what did I like about ob like that. And I immediately thought about how gorgeous her legs are. Strong and muscular with that lean line indented down the outside of the thigh. And then immediately I got this image of her chevrons cut into those legs I love, one for each day she pleased corncob. And I totally cringed inside and teared up. I kept trying to imagine whether I would be able to see them if she was wearing shorts or her long boy underwear shorts, and hoping that you could still see her gorgeous legs without seeing those marks, if I ever bump into her in the future. It hurts so much that she got those on the days she was supposed to spend with me, talking about our relationship. Having fun, reconnecting, being there, trusting again. So much. Like a stab through my heart.
And it is so stupid how it happened. If she hadn't done that THEN. If she had kept to what she SAID she wanted to do, which was be with me except for two hours a day, then it wouldve been ok. It wouldve been something to laugh about, to talk about, to share, to wonder at. I wouldve wanted to know all the details. How it felt. What she had done to earn them. What she learned about cutting that she didnt know when she did my back. If they weren't reward for each day she screwed me around and rejected me. If they were done during the two hours, and she had spent the rest of the time with me. If I had been invited as her girlfriend to be a part of getting them. If she had gotten them done in Sept or Oct or any time she was not supposed to be with me, when she wasnt standing me up to earn them.
Then they wouldve been something I loved, and was proud of her for getting. Why do people try to have no regrets by doing something that fucks someone over. "I don't want to regret not doing it" she said. Well, how about doing it when you wont regret fucking me over? Gee. The way it was done is like if you said "I dont want to turn down this opportunity to go to Hawaii, since I dont want to regret it" and then you go to Hawaii while you were supposed to take care of your kid when you've got joint custody or something, let the kid come to live at your house, and then just dump em unattended to go to Hawaii, how exactly are you going to relax in Hawaii?? Imagine that the child welfare take away your kid for abandonment since you left it at home alone. Gee, I bet you will be so glad you don't regret missing Hawaii. So stupid.
Don't do something if it means fucking up something else. It will forever taint the thing that was supposed to be great and fun. Of course playing vampire is more important than keeping your word to a friend and lover you care for and love. yup. No regrets huh. no regrets. Well, fuck no regrets.
But besides her I have never had anyone to wrestle around and be comfortable with. I have had lovers who touch so soft, it is beautiful once. And then it is boring. And I feel too strong, too clutzy, too passionate. Just TOO... I have had lovers that we just have good ordinary sex. (these tend to be the straight boys who live in a world where women are not me), but who weren't "kinky". I have had lovers who were quite toppy, in the manner of they like to do you, they dont like to be done... I slept with someone for 11 months probably 4 or 5 times a week, and touched his body (other than his shoulders and arms while we were fucking) less than I have touched someone in ONE NIGHT!! Wow, eh!
I really miss ob for that. For how all over the board we could be. Her doing me. Me doing her. Soft or hard. Boys or girls. Tied up, held down, fantasy or real. Always playing and experimenting. There were always some limits yes, mostly cuz of her Mme. But it was just so relaxed. I have had so many lovers who basically drove themselves nutso trying to get me to come. The 11 month lover mentioned above got rather snarky and chip on his shoulder about it. He would get up as soon as he came, to go to the bathroom and say "I'll leave the room cuz you can't come with me in the room". That was hurtful. I would rather he lay there and held me, than be alone "so I could come". I didnt come when he left the room. I just felt alone and like I failed.
I never had problems to come with ob. I never come left right and center, but at least it was not hard with her there. Maybe that means I didnt have a huge enough thing for her to be intimidated? I dont know but it was damn nice.
Anyways, I sort of forget about sex and play when I am happy with clean laundry, and snow on the ground, and my christmas tree bought (yes!), until I read about other people and they are going home to have fun. And I think of the upcoming workshops with Midori (I am registering for a second one in Toronto, so now i will go to FIVE in a week! eeek!! in January) and think of all these people bringing up questions about their sex lives and play with their lovers. And I will be going like some sort of academic study brownnoser. Hehe. I don't use the rope bondage I already know. Nor the feminine dominance. Nor the flogging. What the heck, may as well add to it.
But I just suddenly, at the gym, or reading an email, get a flash and tears well up in my eyes. I hope one day this will be done. The sad. The hurt.
Well, going to paint the doggy cover picture now. More later. A more fun entry. This one is for me, not for you all.
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Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
*inspired by Chaosdaily