Thinking…Lots of Thinking

After last night’s dream and all the other things on my mind, I decided to keep myself as busy as possible today. The idea was that I would keep the errant thoughts at bay if I kept the rest of me very busy.

I went shopping with my children. In case you don’t have kids yet, this means I spent most of the day telling two small people no – a lot and threatening to kick some little boy butt if they didn’t behave. Fun times.

We went to the mall. I never go to the mall. Ever. We went, and I people-watched. As I nosily studied the people around me, my head took over.

Watching couples with children, I wondered if I would always be alone. I asked myself why I couldn’t seem to be enough for anyone. I wondered if I would be one of those women who was single forever, if my children would ever have a father-figure in their lives again. I smiled when I saw couples holding hands. I watched body language to see if I could determine who was happy and who wasn’t. Either I have shitty radar or people are just generally miserable, because there were very few couples that gave off the madly-in-love vibe.

I studied men as they walked by. I tried to determine if I found any of them attractive. Not by a mile. I came across a few that would have been good-looking by anyone’s standards, but they looked like babies to me. One tried to flirt with me but only to make the sale. And if I’d had the money, I would have made the purchase – not because he flirted, though. He worked at a kiosk selling jewelry that could be personalized and I saw a necklace. I thought about having my children’s names engraved on it – then realized I’d bought enough stuff for myself today. He wasn’t cute enough to entice me to spend money.

I studied women as I passed by them. Some were attractive, many were not, a few were stunning. I thought about how I present myself to the world. I saw women who didn’t wear baggy jeans (in my defense, I’ve lost a lot of weight and can’t purchase a new wardrobe yet). I saw women who wore cute shoes – and thought about my cute shoes at home in my closet (as I sported my flip flops – hey, it’s Florida in December, it’s still flip flop weather). I wondered if I should dress with a little more care – and then wondered why I should bother.

I know I should “bother” to make myself feel better. I’m not interested in men. There is only one who holds any appeal for me at all. And even though that’s pretty meaningless right now, it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve effectively placed myself on a shelf. And I should do special things for myself, to make myself feel more like a woman.

I feel a wall being built around me, my heart. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I only want him, even though I’m not sure he wants me. The wall keeps a distance between me and everyone else. That’s probably not healthy – I don’t really care.

I tell myself that I don’t care if others find me attractive – but that’s not true, either. When I know I’m being appraised by someone, when I can feel their eyes on me and I know I’m deemed worthy of a second look, it turns me on. I don’t want the person who’s looking, but the fact that they look makes me want to find a dark corner and cum all over myself.

I saw a lesbian couple tonight and thought one girl was much more attractive than the other. I spent several minutes thinking about how pretty she was. It’s a strange feeling. I don’t want a lesbian relationship, but women seem safer to me right now. Probably because I can keep it all in the realm of fantasy.

I’m on my third glass of wine for the night, and I don’t know whether I want to laugh or cry. I think I want to cum, but it becomes lonely after a while. I would kill for human interaction with another adult – with someone who understands me, all of me, not just the facade I show the world. And yet, I’m not good company, and there’s that damn wall. It gets thicker, wider, and taller every day. Maybe that’s for the best – I’ve spent too much of my time, in this space and elsewhere, thinking about the pain. If the wall keeps that away, maybe it’s a good thing. It probably isn’t, but I’ll lie to myself for tonight.

I’m a submissive in love, who’s placed herself on a shelf, to wait for the only man she knows is worthy of her submission. I’m a little slut that wants an opportunity to play. I’m an exhibitionist who wants to show the part of the world deemed “safe” what I’m about. I’m a lonely woman drinking wine, eating chocolate, and getting off on other people’s fantasies. I’m a writer who can’t conceive of happy endings right now. And I’m a thinker – who thinks too damned much.