Quietus

An affliction I have developed as of late.

Forced muting of all if the thoughts & feelings that screamed to escape & stand center stage. A stage with no audience. Not even of the heckling sort.

I watch the world that spins around me and realise that what I value is temporary. What I long for will only come and go as it suits others.

Now is the time for me to come face to face with as I am in this tiny corner of the universe I will be here, essentially; alone.

Too old to keep putting myself out there. (Where ever there is). Too young to become the cat lady.

Not everyone gets a circle if support. So offering to be part of one for someone else is fruitless.

I'll stand by my word. Spoken previously and sincerely. But going forward, I'll not paint
Myself in a corner by offering so much there's nothing left of me.

Watch the others, so successful. So admired. It's easy to understand why I chose silence.

Picking & choosing

I have been considering writing a guide for being in any kind of relationship with a married person.

Most people would discourage it altogether. However, I know of someone that listened to her heart & perserviered.

I don't want to hear all of the moral arguments.

I know how I feel. And right now, I want to keep feeling the amazing feelings I am feeling.

Don't get me wrong. It's not all wine & roses.
I knew what I was getting into when we met.

I just didn't know I'd fall so fast & hard.

Slowly getting back in the thick of it, not

Being the creature that I am. I need to ease back into things. I spook easily and more often than not, I spook my 'prey'.

In the beginning of October I received a message on Fetlife that was far from the usual types of messages. All it asked was, if there were any other Artsy type events going on in the Port Huron Area during the first weekend. Really? No, "would you put a diaper on me Mistress"? no, "I wanna be spanked please" from some idiot in Sweden? Seriously? My arms are not that long.

I did reply, and spoke about what I'm doing or was doing, at the Studio. He didn't seem interested about that, though it did coincide with his plans; we agreed to meet for lunch. We texted and had a very short conversation before our lunch and I was disappointed yet glad he was forthright in telling me he was married.

Now, my track record with married guys is dismal at best. There haven't been any that I've crossed the line with, however I almost always secretly wished that they weren't. It's just easier, and quite honestly I feel like a smuck that they are lying to their wives. Yes, I have a guilty conscience sometimes. Just sometimes.

So, we'll call this guy Chicago boy, because eventually we went to Chicago, the week after we met. Yes. I drove, six hours in his car, shotgun after knowing him a few hours and barely playing for the first time. He's that interesting. We met in Ann Arbor and hit the road and drove, and drove.... and he whips out (settle down it's just an expression and we WERE driving) some great tunes...

"I've never sang karaoke to 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light' by Meatloaf." he casually quipped.
Again, are you serious? I was a karaoke host when I lived in Kansas.... Which I imparted with a devilish smirk. And I'll be damned if he had it on the numerous songs he had pre loaded in his system. We had to wait through the Baseball scene part of it but otherwise laughed at the convenience of his lack of the experience and my abundance of singing for a living or just for fun.

I have to say, up until this point I was constantly muttering inside my head "This is not a D/s experience, this is weird. It's NORMAL." Well apart from the point that he's married and OMG did I say that while we were driving his wife called?
Jesus! I was fighting an onset of Asthma and kept coughing, rather loudly into my sleeve while he had her on speaker phone and I was choking to death. I was so paranoid she'd ask what the noise was. But I digress....

The music started, the baseball part was over and we started our vocal journey as it were.
He has a remarkable speaking voice, just deep enough but not Grandpa deep. That would be odd since he's 4 years my junior. (Yes still going for the young ones) Just enough of a lisp to be endearing, but you aren't suppose to become endeared to a potential sub.

Says fucking WHO?

He has a great voice, though I have a feeling that he has been told otherwise. It's unfortunate that I won't be able to drag him to a bar and sing with him. (Too public) It would have been a blast.

Now, the physical part. Initially we barely played. I believe that the generation before me would have called what we did, making out with some heavy petting.  He is the first guy I've been with that is uncircumcised so that was interesting. I usually have the opposite reaction to differences in bodies. I was very interested in texture, and what happened when he got an erection... I still am.

In Chicago, I tried (unsuccessfully, in my mind) to inspect and measure him appropriately for a collar, harness and numerous apparatuses to be used or attached to his cock. I was nervous, I'm sure he was terrified; as I was in Bitch mode. However as the night progressed it was amazing. In fact, the entire weekend was incredible... Which will be my topic for my next post, soon.

Let's just say, slowly getting back into things is not my strong suit. But this time it hasn't backfired on me... yet....

Lazy Lazy Lazy

February ? And here it's almost October.... good gods!
Let's see what has happened.... I'm still unemployed, still searching for the bird that would make his nest on my limbs (that's sounds kinda Horror film like) I'm desperately addicted to making chainmaille and did a few art shows here and there through the summer.

I think a rewind is necessary.

Currently I am single... there are two that are always in my watchful eye, I swear both of them want their cake and the ability to eat it too. My past history with men has not changed. I always find the ones that burn out of the feelings for companionship and only want it when they want it.

I am a stickler for anonymity so I'll call one the good boy and the other the lost boy.

I see the lost boy on a regular basis. We've gone to one BDSM event in South Western Michigan, and had a blast. I'm far to easy on him than normal. Probably because I care deeply for him. My first mistake. I have the uncanny ability to let men who are lazy subs walk all over me. Call a spade a spade, I am a wuss when I care about them. Lost boy needs me. He doesn't know just how much yet. I'm not sure if I'm willing to give him everything only to be in the same boat I was with Brian, only to get hurt again.

The good boy isn't always good, he is selective in his communication. This drives me INSANE. I have no inhibitions with the good boy. Yet I still cut him slack. I am nothing yet consistantly disappointing myself in that regard.

Sometimes I think in this sea of pine and oak and birch I live in (literally) I am alone.. the lone willow that weeps for herself and others. Not necessarily in that order. I want so desperately to be the one someone wants and needs that I will do anything, say anything to get that response. How unhealthy is that?

The snow will fall soon, my branches will be bare and exposed, much like they are now. I'm contemplating delving into my writing again, as I tend not to have this need while the weather is warm and the sun shines long hours of the day.

Old friends keep cropping up. (Hi Shaari, welcome to the willow grove. You'll get used to my symbolism and gothic nature to my rants)

And new old friends remain. I love you Wendy, without you, my life would be darker and even moonlight could not find me.

More after this weekend; last artshow of the season... maybe... maybe one more in October.

What goes around

I never was fully convinced beyond the basic concept of Karma.

I've never been a vindictive person... sure I've been angry and wanted bad things to happen to people that have wronged me. But never did I think if I 'turned the other cheek' and went on my merry way, would Karma deal them with a hand that was in direct confrontation with what they feared or were unable to handle themselves.

People say " God doesn't give you what you can't handle "

Now anyone that knows me knows, I don't necessary subscribe to that theory.

In this case, after being with Brian for 2 years, knowing he had no interest in children. Knowing he was very confused about his interest in Crossdressing and being used by men. And thinking I could change him and we'd be together forever... was a precursor for my Karmic eventuality.

Once I realised that he wouldn't change, that anything I encouraged or discouraged would just amplify his interests... I got lazy...

Eventually when he broke up with me in July, I could have unwrapped a very bitter disclosure about his interests to his friend and family who would be mortified. Did I want to? Yes. Did I ? No, counting on Karma to find a moment in his life to hand him something that would balance the bad he dealt me.

My friend M, formerly a co worker, informed me that her cousin was with a guy, named Brian, who was from Rockford, who installed dog fences... liked to hunt and fish, last name is the same and was pregnant.

Just goes to show you, you don't have to fuck someone over when they do wrong to you... it happens naturally...

I'm so giddy it's terrible... but it looks like being good isn't all that bad... :)

Absence...

Four long months.... and the willow stands alone.

I keep going on and on with this Tree analogy and honestly after today's events I've about had it with my attempts at gliding through life and acting as if nothing effects me.

I've been 'let go' from my position and there are no 'compatible' jobs for me at Corporate. I have since December lost touch with Rick... VERY disappointed in that. And further... my newest acquaintance is proving to be another poor decision in judgment.

Right now it's raining.. and what normally calms and soothes me... the pattern of droplets falling on the roof; is slowly pushing me further along the downward spiral.

Fighting becoming a curled up ball of nothing is going to be very difficult. My eyes dart everywhere for some sign of solace or salvation, with no eventual relief.

One pair of eyes move over these words and they belong to a wonderful woman I am privileged to call my friend. Perhaps it's best that the fewer that see how close I am again to that black hole of emotional darkness since Gavin died, the better.

I hold it all together for my Mom's sake. But it's going to come to a head soon and spill out like so much pent up anger I have no idea how it will resolve its self.

I'm too old to be angry at the world and I'm too young to be 'okay' with all the absolute bullshit that's been handed me.

All I want to do is sink further into the arms of someone... anyone... and how sad is that?
Right now I'd settle for a Lumberjack with a chainsaw.

Trees have eyes, yet they cannot see

My eyes...

They see things differently than how you see them. You look at a tree and see a tree. I look at the tree and see how it bends to the unforgiving force of the wind..and I feel it; the gnarled bark and twisted limbs that climb to the sky to capture the slightest ray of sunshine, or fall to the earth and river to desperately seek the nourishment it needs to survive. My eyes see more than leaves, roots and thick, bulky trunks.

I am a tree... sometimes old... withered... needy tree who's branches find some comfort wrapped around ideals and memories that fade with each passing day....

Other times... willowy, graceful (at least trying to be) and always searching to shelter, protect and keep safe those that cannot fend for themselves. The water of the river that runs so deep, reflect the need to protect as be protected... to bring order in otherwise chaos.Teaming with life and exuberance; taking in every opportunity to do more than get by on the bank of the river, but to truly LIVE.

My eyes see... things you may not. Even in the darkness of the many different kinds of trees around me. If you could see what I see..... Who knows what you'd think of me then...

Who knows...