the feelings - sadness and grief - are expelled
body feels alive again - the burn, the sting, the knots, the heat - radiates the sadness out
processing the grief, letting the past die
this doesn't have to make sense to anyone but me
80% of the world does not experience the world like I do
what people think of you is none of your business
undiagnosed ADHD/ADD has taught me early on to not trust myself
my senses are amplified as a highly sensitive person
its ok to grieve things or people you once loved
its not about the nail
stop putting value on things, instead, value yourself
its ok if things are not going according to plan
scars are stronger than skin
sit with your feelings instead of your story
when the world is loud enough, quiet is deserved at home
forgiveness is a process, not an end product. unforgiveness/resentment will eat you alive.
you know it is the end when you’re not afraid of the fall
you know it has to hurt less than this
because nothing could hurt worse than this
the first time i went to subspace, i didn't even know there was a thing called subspace.
but there's more before that, it's a long, sad story.
i never thought i was into bdsm. i thought it was too much for me to handle.
but i craved pain.
the type of pain that could give me the release. the type of release that i was told was not healthy growing up, the release, the high, floating with the moon.
but what if you slip and you cut your wrists too deep
the release from putting my cigarette out on my forearm while going 72 down a gravel road
they told me it was wrong and that there was simply no healthy way to experience those feelings again.
and then one day someone took a chance on me.
he told me to go to the bathroom and to come out completely naked. it was the first time i'd met him, i'd never been with anyone as deep into bdsm as he.
i obeyed but my body shook all the way to the bathroom door. i'm not sure why i shut it, since i'd be coming out nude, but it felt like the right thing to do at a stranger's home.
i followed him to the bedroom and he asked permission to take my necklace off. i nodded as best as i could, even with my entire body visibly (almost embarrassingly) shaking.
i laid down on the bed so he could look me over. there weren't many words exchanged.
he laid down next to me and held me for a while, an attempt to get the shaking to stop. he kissed me with passion i'd felt before. it felt familiar and put me at ease and he moved his hands down my body, touching lightly in some spots with his fingertips, grabbing in others with the force of his hand. he stopped at my ass and slowly moved up to my breasts and eventually landing on my throat.
he asked if i'd ever been put to sleep before, i hadn't
he wrapped his arm around my neck, grabbing one wrist with the other
everything at first felt like i was falling into an abyss and trying to run with my legs
and then everything was peaceful. quiet. dark.
he started to move his fingertips along those same spots he'd grazed before, gently and so eloquently. it wasn't long before i asked him again, please make me go night night?
and obliging, he made me float with the moon
my heart is numb, please hold me for a while
i need someone who believes and gives reassurance
and discipline, i know what is right and what is wrong but i need reinforcement
maybe these things come from myself, yes?
i cannot maintain it all at once
there needs to be a release, the pain needs to be beaten out of my body
please take it away
and remind me
in the end, the holding stopped, eventually the phone calls and finally the texts. it is all gone and i long for it in ways i never thought possible. sometimes i dream about him, at least i think it's him, but i can't see his face. he scoops me up and tells me that he's so sorry it took so long. he's been taking care of things so he could find me.
i wake up abruptly from these dreams because they feel so real, i swear i can feel his arms. my heart flutters and my hands are reaching for his at my chest. there's no one there. it's always at 4am and i have to weep so quietly i nearly choke so that i don't wake any of the children up.
waiting for the coffee to brew, i recite the words i would say to him, over and over in my head. they have to be perfect, everything does. how i long to take care of him, from making sure that he has fresh sheets to lay in with me, a hot breakfast before he leaves, a lunch packed. dinner on the table when he gets home. a shoulder and back rub before bed.
i hope that I'll find you again someday. at the right time and before it's too late.
i came here because i need to write. i haven't written consistently since i started having children 15 years ago. my children have healed my heart in ways i never thought possible but there is still a part of me that needs attention and the pain radiates in ways i haven't felt before.
someone picked up that part of me a couple of years ago, in the middle of the night. he held me like he knew i was broken. scooped me up like i wasn't a burden or laden with walls as tall as you could imagine. i hadn't ever been held like that.
i have a longing for someone i am not sure exists.