The pendulum swings, the roller coaster hits another dip, pick your metaphor, but it’s been ugly for me.
The side of me I’m not proud of keeps trying to rear her ugly head. She’s the selfish little girl who just feels bad. She’s not strong; she’s not optimistic; she’s angry, terribly angry.
Wow, I sound like I have multiple personalities, don’t I? I promise, I don’t. I’m just that weird girl that recognizes my different facets – they make sense to me now that I know about D/s.
I looked up the symptoms for clinical depression today. By the way, unless you’d like to suddenly discover you have every disease known to man, don’t randomly surf WebMD. I’m not clinically depressed. I’m just a sad girl. I’m a scared girl. I’m an angry girl – and I think that’s the crux of it. I’m angry.
I’m scared that it wasn’t real. I’m scared that I made it all up in my head. I’m scared that I’m hanging on to something that doesn’t exist.
I’m angry. I am SO goddamned angry. How, how could he let my love go? How could he decide that our love wasn’t strong enough for this? How could he leave me, abandon me, abandon himself? He’s walking through life right now, struggling through some of the hardest things any of us will ever have to go through, and he’s doing it by himself. Sometimes I wish I could just shake him!
I am so sad. I cry silently. I weep loudly. Today was my first day back at work in a week. While I needed the distraction work provided, by the end of the day, I had to hide for a few minutes in the ladies room just so I could cry without being seen.
A few nights ago, it occurred to me that I may need to let him go completely. That one thought has set off a tempest that I could not predict. I was barely functional yesterday, and while there is a part of me that wants to lay in bed, hiding, all day, I was grateful for my hated job – it forced to me focus on something else. And then I wondered if that’s how he feels – miserable (because of his own issues) and work is the thing that saves him because it requires his focus.
And then I got mad again.
Why does he have to be so fucking stubborn?! He could have had all the love I can give. He could have had a soft place to rest. He could have had the strength of a submissive woman – you know the strength all the Dominants claim to love, until their life goes to shit, of course. Then, at that point, we’re apparently too goddamned weak to take a Dominant who can’t give 150%. Why doesn’t he understand that even giving me a fraction of himself is more than any other man before him, and like a starving person, I would survive off of it, grateful for it, knowing there would be a better day ahead, knowing that it wouldn’t always be that way? Why does the need to lean and feed off of the stronger one only work one way in this?
No really, the few lurking Dominant men who are reading right now (you know who you are, very few of you comment), I want to know. Explain it to me. He said he couldn’t focus on the D/s. He said it wasn’t right to make me wait. He said he couldn’t live up to his responsibilities as a Dominant. You’re not MADE a fucking Dom, you’re born that way, right? But can’t it be by degrees at times? Doesn’t he know that I would take a portion of him rather than nothing? That nothing is like living without the sun and moon?
I’m slowly wasting away. I’m slowly losing myself. I’m slowly becoming unrecognizable. And it’s not because I’m lonely. It’s not because there’s no one to smack my ass or withhold my orgasms. Fuck that. It’s because my fucking heart has been ripped out of my chest. It’s because I’m terrified. I know what my gut tells me is real, but I also know that the rest of the world (including him) is waiting for me to decide that it’s too hard, that it’s not worth it, that I need to move on.
People would probably say it’s for the best. Why? Why is it for the best? So I can wander life never loving someone as much as I love the most stubborn man alive?
Do not tell me I will love again – of course, I will. I have a lot of love to give. I can find something lovable about almost anyone. Why is it somehow better to give someone half of my heart? Why is that the goal I should strive for?
Do not tell me that I’m young, and I might be wrong about this. I have never been so sure about anything in my whole life. I know what we had between us. I know what we both suffered before we found each other. I know we fit together. I know how much I surprised him at times by being nothing like the women he’s known before. I would almost guess it’s hard for him to believe that I really am that different, that I really am that true, that I really do love that completely.
When all of my anger is spent. When my temper tantrum is over. When I let it all out…
Then, I am so sad. And I’m scared – for him, for me. I sob for what we had, for what might be lost forever. I hope that he forgives me my emotional outbursts. I hope that he sees the temper tantrums as my little girl tendencies.
When I feel hopeful again, I think of this quote – it’s one of my favorites:
Go after her. Fuck, don’t sit there and wait for her to call, go after her because that’s what you should do if you love someone, don’t wait for them to give you a sign cause it might never come, don’t let people happen to you, don’t let me happen to you, or her, she’s not a fucking television show or tornado. There are people I might have loved had they gotten on the airplane or run down the street after me or called me up drunk at four in the morning because they need to tell me right now and because they cannot regret this and I always thought I’d be the only one doing crazy things for people who would never give enough of a fuck to do it back or to act like idiots or be entirely vulnerable and honest and making someone fall in love with you is easy and flying 3000 miles on four days notice because you can’t just sit there and do nothing and breathe into telephones is not everyone’s idea of love but it is the way I can recognize it because that is what I do. Go scream it and be with her in meaningful ways because that is beautiful and that is generous and that is what loving someone is, that is raw and that is unguarded, and that is all that is worth anything, really. ~Harvey Milk
This is how I think of it. I cannot regret this. He may not be paying attention, but in my own small way, I’m screaming my love at the top of my lungs. I can only hope that one day it seeps in, and he realizes he is deserving of it.