I have started and stopped so many posts over the last few months… and apparently accidentally published a couple when I shoved my phone in my bra or some such nonsense.
Life happens. I am a flawed human.
I am also currently wide awake at 1:29 in the morning thanks to some coffee I had at 9:00. Sitting in my parents living room in New Jersey. Letting the weight of 2016 hit me.
It has been one hell of a fucking year. Every time I think to write something new appears. And so I get stuck.
When I was being mentored, I was tasked to write 200 words a day. These days I’m not tasked with much. It’s easy to get overwhelmed with life. To let myself get away with the little white lies I process through when I write. Bad habit. Old habit.
I remain unowned and uncollared.. and no clearer in what I want to do than I was six months ago. I still reach up to touch my neck from time to time and feel the emptiness there. It’s an emptyness I struggle with… because it truly is self-imposed. James and I are still not together. We’re still working on.. what I suppose is a friendship. I see him twice a week or so. I drive him home when asked. We talk. We laugh. Inside jokes are slowly returning. But play hasn’t yet.
I don’t have control over that. Over the play. But he still has my collar, and he knows it. I still haven’t asked for it back. And I know it. Neither of us are there. Neither of us.. can fully close that book. We’re in limbo. Can’t close the book. Can’t start a new one. Can’t move to the next chapter yet. We’re still settling, in a lot of ways. It’s hard. I love him to the moon and back, and he knows that. But I want to strangle him about half the time. I crave touch and connection. I want love (who doesn’t really) but… books. Chapters. Pages.
I don’t have a primary. But my damn heart does.
I own and acknowledge that. What I want and what I need right now are two radically different things. I’m not spinstering or anything. I have partners. Chris still exists as my Dominant, though we no longer have a sexual relationship. There’s Grey still, and two regular play partners. Just. Nothing is mind blowing. Nothing is razzle dazzle, za za zoo, dreams of marriage and babies. Every partner I play with or date right now has a primary. And I want to be one (not with any of them!) and I don’t.
So many around me are happily owned. Happily coupled. And there’s this reality that I could easily move on. I could ask for my collar, close that book, and move forward. And if something mind blowing came along, I think I could. If someone swept me off my feet and wanted to claim me, I could walk away from James romantically. I don’t ignore the za za zoo. It’s how I got myself into this mess to begin with.
But. No one has. And I haven’t. And I don’t want to. And so here I sit, watching sex and the city, contemplating the difficult creature that is James.
I never choose the easy ones. Here I go, falling for a man with shattered emotions. Whose feelings settle at a snails pace. Whose brain works so differently than everyone else’s. Who I have to constantly explain. May he never know how much I do, how many fires I put out. He’s an amazing asshole, there’s just so much beneath the surface that other don’t see. He’s my favorite asshole, my butthead, my 5 a.m. Phone call, safe space, and friend. The asshole pushes all of my damn fucking buttons. And I lack the on/off switch he has.
My Mr. Big.
Can I wait years for him to figure out how he feels? Can I hold out?
It’s hard. Balancing between the patience needed to navigate James and the desire to.. be desired. To be wanted. And loved.
To be owned.
I’ve learned throughout this year that my most satisfying play is tied to emotions. I can go deeper, push myself further, when I love someone. I suck at pick up play. I’m a lightweight when I’m not attached. When I love someone, truly love them, I let them break me. Shatter me. Knowing that they will help me pick up all the pieces.
Can I go years without being fully owned again? Without being truly pushed? Truly broken?
I don’t know. Honestly. I won’t let myself get lost in him. He’s not my Master right now. He’s.. complicated. Hurting. Lost in his own world and trying to come up for air. And I love him. But I’m not masochist enough to dive back into that until his life settles some. And mine. My life being more stable would be nice.
My play isn’t completely unfulfilling. I love Chris. I give the most to him when we play. I love Grey as well, in my own way. But. I don’t drown in the scenes. I can get lost in Chris’s scenes and get to bliss… but. It’s just. It’s not quite the same. As I’m sure it’s not the same playing with me as it is with his primary. As far as James… he’s not dating. He’s rarely playing. He’s.. not datable right now. And he knows that. I know that. I think everyone knows that. We.. are complicated. And I know that can mean so many things in the kink community. But saying we’re friends. Fuck. There are so many more complicated components than that. We are not together. I am unowned. And I still feel an invisible tag on me somewhere. I’m sure he does as well, and gets frustrated by it in different ways as I do.
2016 has taught me some hard lessons. It’s taught me that everything ends. And that’s sad. But everything begins again as well. And that’s happy.
Life’s too short not to be happy. And it’s too short to date just to date.
I will wait. I will see what I can learn from this, rather than throw myself into empty rebounds chasing that ownership again. But I will also selfcare. I will remain open to new without discarding the old, and will not let myself be taken for granted. I will make sure what I give I give freely and without regret or bitterness. I will look for what I get in return. I will accept good things. Maybe I will find an Aiden while Big pulls his head out of his ass. Maybe he’s not Big.
So many maybes.
One thing I’m sure of. I’m ready for 2017. I’m ready to feel more, to write more, and to embrace what come next.
I’m still here, lovelies. Still submissive. Still exploring, and learning, and loving.
And I’m not going anywhere