Most importantly, thanks to everyone who left me birthday wishes--I have not forgotten that you rock and I still need to respond to your comments.
Pretty sure that today is my blog's birthday, but in typical fashion, blogger is screwing with me, and I'll be damned if I sift through every post of 2010 to get to the first one.
Ironically, this is also the day I chose to start another blog. I think that it's not going to be a nice place, or a happy place, or a place that anyone in their right mind would like to read, but if you want the link, email me or leave a comment. The point is that the soul sucking cunt (who really needs to pull off a miracle and develop the human decency to quit reading here), doesn't read there. So it's mine. All fucking mine.
I'm not abandoning this blog. I contemplated doing so over the last months, but I won't. It holds my story, and will hold many more to come. It is just not the place for me to get all of what I need out of writing at the moment. I am...Without sanctuary, and in many instances of the present, this place no longer offers me that.
When I started this blog in 2010, I would have never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would find myself sitting where I now sit. In a city of half a million disconnected people, with a husband in love with another woman and working in a different state than the one I live in, with me loving another man who refuses to even sit in a room alone with me. And no fucking trees or rocks.
Seriously, I have learned that the mountains will accept me wherever I am. But they don't take me as theirs. It's not "home" and it never will be.
We all grew up with "magic". Every child learns the first basic protection spell as soon as they can comprehend words. Here? You're a bit crazy for even mentioning such a concept. Say, "I feel you and you're a beautiful fucking being" and you're lucky if that person ever speaks to you again without wondering how a nice fancy white straight jacket would look on you.
Recently, we "discussed" okay, fought about, the concept of removing the collar. The truth is, whether I am any good at it or not, does not change the fact that I am what I am. And we are who we are. He'll never agree to remove the collar. Ever. And I'll never have the balls to actually hand it to him and ask for release.
On the bright side, my eldest is rocking this life shit. You know those videos where sixty fucking kids stand around and record some kid getting the shit beat out of them, and MAYBE, one kid steps in for the underdog and breaks it up? He is that one kid. And I adore the shit out of him for the human being he is becoming. The path he chooses is not an easy one. There are consequences to standing up for what you believe in. Very few people in this world are willing to accept those consequences.
Too many people think that this D/s shit is easy, that being a slave is simple. The truth is, you never fucking know how painful and difficult it can be until your drowning in the deep end. I have come to realize how very few truly commit to this shit. And I don't mean that in an offensive way. If anything, I am envious. Very fucking envious. Because it is the only thing that can truly compound the sensation of watching your heart and soul disintegrate into a million tiny pieces. Because you can't walk away. No matter how badly you want to, or how poor your ability to serve. It's the only thing that can make love fuck you up even more than it inherently is able to.