Jan 162014
 

deserted-draftsI’ve published almost 500 posts. More than 200 are unpublished.

Of course, some of the unpublished drafts are a couple of sentences with some idea I was toying with or some event I found noteworthy at the time. But at least half of them are honest-to-goodness drafts of things I intended to finish and post, but never did.

Sometimes when I returned to a draft, I didn’t feel the same way about it – my thinking had changed. Other times, I hated what I said, how I said it, or what it meant about the sort of person I am.

After J found out about the blog, I stopped looking back at drafts entirely. I was afraid posting something out of our real-time chronology might screw things up — bringing up old issues or past feelings past might hurt him.

That isn’t so much a fear anymore — J and I are good. Inasmuch as we’re looking forward to the future, with limited time, I’m already growing a bit nostalgic. In service of my sentimentalism, I’ve returned to writings past.

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(last edited December 13, 2011 @ 8:22pm)

J called last night to say hello. In his casual, no-big-deal-way, he suggested “we should meet up soon.” He didn’t say he wanted to see me, nor did he ask if I wanted to see him. He just said it’s something we should do.

“We should! We should meet up… Friday!” Not only did I agree, but I suggested an actual date. It wasn’t something I planned, or decided, or even wanted. It just fell out of my mouth.

All the same, I was pleased at my own false airs of confidence as I waited for him to falter. I figured he would back-pedal, but I barely had time to revel in the victory of catching him off guard before he responded.

“Yes Ma’am.”

Motherfuck.

I had no goal for the conversation, I didn’t even know it would happen, so I have no idea why I was pissed off about the way it ended. I stomped around the kitchen for a bit, conducting one-sided conversations, do-overs about what I should have said in response to his dumbfuckery and mind games.

Not a half an hour later, I retreated to my bedroom, sadly masturbating and thinking of him.

Wait. Scratch that. I didn’t masturbate sadly. I masturbated angrily. There’s more dignity in angry masturbation than there is in sad masturbation, right?

It doesn’t matter. He’s in my head. I wouldn’t mind that he was there if I had any fucking clue what he was about… but I don’t. I don’t know what he is. I don’t know what I want.

I do know what I don’t want. I don’t want J and I don’t want a submissive. What I want is slightly more complicated than that (only slightly, I think). I want J to be submissive. I want him to be my submissive. That’s different, right.

Not that I have any right to decide, but I’ve decided that J is sub-lite — he’s not unsubbish in his mannerisms or carriage, but he’s wildly selfish. He’s sub-lite in the same way I’m Domme-lite. I’m not unDomme-like in my mannerisms or carriage, but I’m often selfless. The more time that passes, the more I’m sure I have no fucking clue what a “domme” or a “sub” is.

I do know that I want him. I fucking want him — every bit of him in every way I can have him. I want to possess him. I also know I care for him deeply, but in a very specific way that feels unfamiliar and uncertain to me. How do I act on that? What does it look like?

I have no idea how to proceed. I think I want to proceed, but to this point, it’s been easiest to forgo moving forward in favor of stasis. I’m not sure I can trust what I want, and I certainly don’t know what I’m doing. So, I’ve done nothing… except masturbate. Sadly, and angrily.

But I can’t seem to exorcise him from my brain. He doesn’t go away.

I might love him. Might.

Or, I might love the idea of love, or love the idea of a sub, or the idea of J as sub. Or maybe I just enjoy a challenge. Maybe I love the idea of domming what might be un-domme-able. Of course, that doesn’t make much sense because J was the one who brought all of this up in the first place.

Maybe he’s just too fucking beautiful and I’ve been hoodwinked by his blue-green-aqua-indescribable eyes.


image based on “Old Skool Typewriter” by Nicole Lee, 2007. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

  10 Responses to “sad, angry masturbation”

  1. Haha, what an inner monologue. Always bring a smile to my face

  2. How is it you can write about such ‘lost-ness’ yet the words reflect how friggin’ smart you are? Always a pleasure to read…

    Hope all is well and happy 2014!

  3. “sad, angry masturbation”

    So in other words, masturbation.

    :D ……. :(

  4. Your thrashing and writhing around was just foreplay practice before bedding him. I find it not sad or angry but romantic!

    • Thank you, James.

      Fortunately, I’m growing evermore comfortable with thrashing, writhing, sadness, anger, and romance… it all seems to happen concurrently for me. :)

  5. Thank you for sharing such intimate thoughts with us. You’re a lot braver than I would have been. Like you, I have a lot of snippets of posts, echos really, that I have put aside and upon looking back over them, decided against posting. (They come across as relentlessly dark)

    I really enjoy that you can reach into yourself and fearlessly place your thoughts in a public forum and trust us, your readers, to treat them with the respect due them.

    Kudos to you for allowing to see so much of you… Oh, I also appreciate the way you give proper attributions to the photos that you use. The geek in me salutes you, and swoons just a little bit.

    • I have a lot of snippets of posts, echos really, that I have put aside and upon looking back over them, decided against posting. (They come across as relentlessly dark)

      I’ve had a bunch of them lately — without direction, anxious, and sorta sad. I have moments where I get really down about J’s leaving, wax poetic, but ultimately get angry with myself for dwelling in it. I have so much to be happy for.

      I also appreciate the way you give proper attributions to the photos that you use. The geek in me salutes you, and swoons just a little bit.

      Thank you, Slapshot! Some time back, I made a commitment to myself to use only images I’ve created or images with creative commons licenses that allow sharing/modification/etc. (and always give attribution!)

      Thank you for noticing!

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