Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing

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Friday, Nov. 21, 2003 - 12:18 a.m.

How can someone have a good day and an absolutely horrid day at once. Good day things are going fine. I have a sense of humour, feel ok, went to flamenco, ...

And I am so sad. So sad. I miss ob so much. That is part of the sad.

This morning i got up... no, this afternoon... and looking out the window see a nice lady and her three little girls, all dressed up with their long hair back and winter coats (long wool coats, not colored skisuit ones), all getting into the SUV in front of my house. The girls bouncing a little in their shoes, asking the mom a question as they got in the car.

Longing.

Wishing this was me. That it actually made a difference that I was dressed well, that I got the kids' clothes and brushed their hair, that we had a schedule. That someone might see my house but me or the occasional person who drops in once a week or two. That there was a reason to do the dishes every day and keep the floor clean. That I was seen by someone other than the other dog walkers and the cashiers in the shops and the people behind the counter at the cafe.

Where is my family, my kids. Someone to call if I'm going to come home late. Someone who'd say, oh you look sad, want a hug? Or even "i'm having a tea, want one?"

Sad

And reading messages on the yahoogroups of people going to bdsm workshops and talking about their doms, their subs, their playpartners, their wives, their lovers. Yes I am excited to go to workshops, but it is hard to see people come together and learn things, and go away together... they will practice on someone, they will have playdates and sex. There is so little point to learning "predicament bondage" or "negotiation skills" or "psychological play"... who do I see? who do I play with?

I miss my ob. I miss my ob. I miss having someone to talk to. I miss having someone to look forward to. So that when I bought nice lingerie someone would see it besides straight guys in bars drooling over me. I had someone to look forward to trying things with and sharing things with. Going to workshops and travelling. I can travel alone. And I feel mostly ok, and I am excited about going to the workshops by myself. But it is not the same.

The workshop is over and everyone disperses. And then what. I practice predicament bondage on myself? Life is predicament bondage. If I stay home I'm lonely. If I go out to have fun, I see everyone else arriving and leaving together... lovers, friends. family. And then I am more lonely than I was to start with.

And it is like my Swedish classes. Three years ago I could have a conversation in Swedish. And now I can limp along with a couple phrases cuz I have no one to practice with. So yes, I took a flogging class in Toronto 10 months ago. I flogged someone ONCE since then. I took a fireplay class years ago. I learned how to breathe fire. I have a paddle, no two, that I used ONCE. I have a double dildo I've had for three years and never used. A straight razor I've only used on myself. One hundred scalpel blades of which I've used one to cut out some paper.

Sure people will say "hey, you can use it on me". Well, I want it to mean something. Sometimes it feels like people are offering to wear the honeymoon neglig�e you bought for your new wife, after she's run off with the postman the day before your wedding. Yes, you can wear it, but it doesnt make me feel any better. And it is not the same.

I am so tired of smiling at other people's kids. Other people's stories about their brothers, their mothers their lovers their husbands. I feel like some eccentric spinster living alone.

Living alone... "I like that cuz I have my space and can see people when I choose to" someone said. Hah. Now that would be great. I choose to see someone now. Who? At noon people are at their day jobs. At 5pm they are picking up the kids. At 6-8 pm they are eating dinner with the lover/family/kids. At 8-10 pm they are watching a movie with same, putting kids to bed. At 11pm they are reading in bed with their sweetie, or getting to sleep early cuz they have to get the kid's breakfast before school. On weekends they go to the cottage with their lover/family/kids/friends. They go to a movie with same, they travel, have holiday dinners.

I can be included sometimes. Once or twice when I couldnt get home for Christmas someone would invite me to their family... and I got to watch how a real family has fun together, and fights, has injokes and presents that mean something, while they were nice and "santa" bought me a pair of pjs and an exotic jam. Once a couple rented a canoe for two days and took me camping. It is really nice, but I feel like an inner city charity kid living in the ghetto that the nice family in the country takes pity on.

I want my own lover. My own family. I want someone to say "my girlfriend", "my mom", "my friend", "my sub/domme" whatever. I am tired of dating other people's subs and dommes, other people's soul mates and lovers. And people who are available cuz they are single and want to be single and don't want me to be their anything except a good time when they feel like it.

I feel like the pumpkin I need to cut up. I feel hard and soft at the same time. A shell with bits of sagging flesh, with a huge huge empty hole inside that someone is scooping out with a large metal spoon. I feel a huge empty pain under my rib cage like someone has hit many times very hard with a large fist. I feel so sad. I am so tired of being sad.

At night (well it is already light out) I have a hard time to fall asleep cuz i think of ob, of the last times I saw her... her beautiful open face with her soft brown eyes loving me, and then immediately noticing she is wearing someone else's collar in bed with me. Her listening to the same story I am, but her standing beside the storyteller, wearing the collar, standing proud and proprietal at the storyteller's side, rocking back and forth on her heels in barely contained excitement and awe, her face rapt as the story untolds, while I sit alone, barely welcome, on the other side of the space in the cold night. This is the one who asked me, pleaded for me to come to her, I'm glad you are "home" she called it only one day before.

I think of me standing naked before her, and her on her knees with her eyes closed feeling my body everywhere and I asked what she was doing. She said "memorizing you so I'll remember your body when you are gone... next summer I will touch you like this at the campfire, I will admire and love you in front of everyone". I cried. I laid my hand on her head and smiled through tears to be loved and honored so much. But a year later she couldnt be bothered to keep even a supper date with me, let alone a dance, or the evening, or even the night in my arms... no, she wore someone else's collar.

I am so so so sad. And what I miss is an ob who I cannot have back. An ob whom I trusted with all my heart and head. And even if she were here now, holding me now, saying "I love you, I want you" the trust is gone because she betrayed it.

And I am so so sad. And so missing my best friend in all the world. My lover and playmate and fellow adventurer and just hang out and watch movies and sleep friend. I am so empty inside and so so sad.

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previous meanderings - future past

Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009

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