Sorry about disabling the comments.  I just need the quiet right now.  Thanks.


I am having trouble figuring out who I am without him, I thought to myself, and then thought how trite that sounded.  Isn’t that what every new, brittle divorcee thinks?  And we weren’t even married, despite my best efforts.

One of the more difficult things about breaking up is that R. and I embarked on “our journey”, as BDSMers insist on calling the unfolding of their kinky tastes, together.  And without him, I’m not sure what I want.  I feel like one hand, sort of dull-ly lying on the table, recalling concerts at which it clapped.

I felt this way before, last summer, when we broke up and were apart(ish) for three or four weeks.  A few weeks of silence and the air began to quiet and still.  I could hear my own voice again–not the voice that argues with him in my mind, constantly, but just my own voice talking to itself.

Confusingly, it wanted the same things it had wanted when I was with him.  A home in the country.  Plants, and pets.  Living things; green things.  A life more in tune with the life around it, responding to the rhythms of the days.  More time for reading, writing; more peaceful times; more long walks and more time for things I used to love, like listening to rain and cooking.

Then we were back together and the arguments started again.  As he told me today, “The thoughts about us–about what we should do–just fill my forebrain all the time, and I don’t want to be thinking about relationship.  I want to just be living.”  I know exactly what he means.  We analyze us so much it gets exhausting, and there is no chance to do the things we both want to do.

Anyway, that doesn’t speak to my identity crisis.  What’s confusing me now is that HE has been confused for months about what I “really” want in terms of D/s.  And I can’t tell why he’s confused.  I think I know what I want and I think I am clear about it.  He finds himself on “shifting sands” (his phrase) and at times arguing with me about my desire to switch.

Nevermind what he thinks.  After three years of kink, I don’t know what I want either.  I don’t know if I want to play with new people, or find a new lover, or wait for a new partner, or top or bottom, or if I never want anyone to touch me again.  Men or women?  I’m not sure.  I don’t know if I want pain, or humiliation, or bondage, or control, or none of those things.  I can’t tell if I want more intensity than we had or less.

I guess I’ll just have to find out the hard way.  Which actually doesn’t sound all that bad . . . not all bad.


Images here, by nikola tamindzic.  Every one a fantasy.