This is going to be a difficult post to write, but I want to write it for a variety of reasons. The biggest reason is I’ve always felt like I was much better at writing out my thoughts than speaking them. Even then, I’m probably not going to manage to say all of what I need or want to say, nor do it with a dry eye.
I leave tomorrow. I leave tomorrow and it fucking sucks.
A month (39 days more accurately) gives you plenty of time to be in someone’s presence and to feel like you’re an integral part of their life. That’s days of sleeping in the same bed, having meals together, going on trips together, and just seeing someone as they’re being their self.
I’ve spend a lot of time with both Molly and Daddy, and enjoyed their company a whole lot.
As time has wound down, my mind has thought about a lot of things. I’ve taken to calling it being fragile and uncertain, something you’ll understand I guess.
I’m still learning to how to ask for what I want. No, I’m still learning about what I want. I’ve spent the last 33 years either following what someone else says I should be doing or wondering if what I am doing has been influenced by someone else’s thoughts of what I should be doing. How can I ask for it if I don’t even know if it’s what I want? So I don’t tend to ask. I tend to defer to others and their needs because if they know, that works for me. Not healthy and a habit I need to break.
My body is hella uncooperative also. I’ve always struggled with sex and orgasms a bit. It’s flared up more and more, much to my frustration. I’ve been struggling with this feeling of being difficult and broken. I know it’s not true, Daddy reassures me and never makes me feel this way, but this is about a need to overcome my own mental barrier. That’ll take time even if I feel like I should be awesome at everything.
It’s not all sex clubs, spanking benches, and orgasms. Those things do happen, but there’s been times of sitting quietly together while they work, or watching a movie together, or laughing or pictures or awesome walks with Molly. There have been a lot of those moments that go beyond sex.
I’m not a particularly social person, something people may have noticed at Eroticon. I’ve been called antisocial on more than one occasion. I’ve always felt like that was a bad mark in my tally box because I don’t go out of my way to talk to people. I enjoy being with both of them because there is no pressure to talk, but we can have good conversation with ease.
I struggle, too, with kicking thoughts that eventually he’ll get tired of me. I get tired of me so why shouldn’t anyone else? Perhaps this is the source of my feelings in Welcome, that dread that at some point someone will get tired of me so I have to make sure I don’t overstay my welcome.
I had my first big cry Friday at tea. The moment had been coming for a few days and it just spilled over. I don’t know what precipitated it, but just realizing so little time was left had me a sniffly mess.
Michael and Molly are good people, but I think everyone knows that truth.
He’s really a great man. I know he doesn’t always feel like he is, but he really is. He’s smart, I mean really really smart. He’s also kind. He makes coffee for everyone in the morning, he cooks meals, he bakes delicious things, and he does it because he wants to. He’s handsome and he’s wonderful. He’s a servant and it makes him an amazing Dom. He’s not perfect, but no one is. If I had my dithers, I’d never leave him because he takes care of people. He takes care of me.
Molly too is amazing. She’s fierce, she’s driven, and she takes no shit. She’s also beautiful. If things need done, Molly makes it happen. I routinely think I should be more like her, asking for what I want. Being fearless.
I’ll aim for a post about the dynamic when I have my head on a little straighter.
Since I’ve already been crying, I don’t imagine tomorrow is going to be great for keeping my face dry. Good thing I don’t wear makeup because runny mascara only seems to look sexy on certain people.
I’ll be back, but that knowledge doesn’t seem to make leaving any easier.
