He has been almost silent for the past 2 years.   Hardly a word or post accept when one of our leading community members passed suddenly.  Then out of the blue he reminds me of his true character.  He proclaimes himself to be an ass and insults me on a post thread that went KP. 

I had just began to let my guard down and was starting to feel sorry for him.  I had been silent and had worked very hard to not degrade  his charactor.  Most of my journal entries focused on what I did wrong in our relationship out of a missguided respect for him.   Never again.   

That whole concept of out of sight, out of mind was working for me.   However, he is no longer out of sight or out of mind and I am a little pissed.   I promised myself that I would not allow myself to feel anything over this man ever again.  Now here I am angry enough to do something stupid.  UGHhhhh...   

I didn't realize his silence had been such a blessing.  

2014

     I can not complain about 2014.  It had it's ups and downs.  It's highlights, and low-lights.   I met some amazing people, got a wonderful job doing what I love, and grew closer to my family and friends.   The positives outweigh the negatives.  However, I do so hope that 2015 sees me more settled and sure in my life.     

     As for ringing in this new year,  I almost didn't.  I had made plans to try and make it to Dallas and see my soul sister, but family issues being what they are, I had decided to stay home.  My parents had a different thought process and wanted me to go to Houston.   Primarily, they wanted me to spy on my aunt. She had been harping me about coming to see her as well.  My parents also thought it would be good for me to see my besties.  Mom and Dad worry about my bouts of melancholy and encouraged me to go to our traditional NYE party.   I went with the expectation of just being gone for the night and coming home in the morning.

     As always going to Houston is bitter sweet.  We drank cheep bubbly wine in the form of mimosas, took shots of whipped vodka and Grand Mariner, then at midnight toasted in the new year with pink champagne. Through my drunk mutterings I somehow managed to remember to keep it vanilla around all my besties children.  As much as I love my BFF's and needed some time with them, I know that I was missing something vital to my sanity.    Knowing I was just a few minutes away from the EROS NYE get together ate a whole in my heart and left a growing void.

      My besties know about my life.  Nothing is a secret between us.  Grin.  They are an awesome group of people and love me with or without bruises.  I try to keep references to my non-vanilla life to a minimum because it is not their thing.  (I hate when people force/dominate conversations about their hobbies or interests.) Besides, no mater how much I talk about it they can not fill that void.  They can not truly understand the need and hunger I have.   So I take advantage of my vanilla time with my vanilla friends and have vanilla conversations to the best of my ability.  

      I ended up staying another night to take care of my aunt and make sure she started off the year with a full freezer.  As I sat on her couch chatting with her,  my sober mind wandered to another place and time.  A time before I met hollow and other one.  A time when I called my aunt's house home.  A time when I was new to the idea of BDSM and my daydreams were full of wonder, trepidation, and expectation.  A time when kink could still shock and amaze me.
    I had a hard time falling asleep that night and it had nothing to do with the uncomfortable mattress.  I miss the community.  I miss having people around that know where I am coming from.  I miss not having to monitor my conversations.  I miss having boundaries and formality along with the events and meet-ups.  I miss having a Dom I can turn to when I am uneasy or intimidated. 

 I miss my other life.

   

New Years with Friends

I spent the New Year with my best friend in Houston.  I was so in the need to see her.  We cleaned, cooked, drank, shopped and watched about $400.00 of fireworks along with a side of cheep bubbling wine.  Some of her family came in,  I love everyone in her family, but I do have my favorites, and the favorites were the ones I got to see.  They asked about other one and hollow....mainly curious as to what happened.  Uncle Sparky has had a hard year, a few heart attacks and some issues with his diabetes and really liked hollow, and hollow liked him in return.  I let him have the bare bones, didn't want to ruin his vision of what, at one point, was a wonderful man.  I also showed off pictures of other one's fiance.  I did smile when I showed him how happy other one is.  I am happy for her, why shouldn't I smile in reaction to the beautiful images of her love and their new life.  I thought it would be hard bringing up the past, but it wasn't.    I have no animosity or pain to spend on a man that has no respect. compassion, or love for me.  

It was an exhausting and wonderful 3 days of fun with the people that I hold dear to my soul.  I packed my things up this morning, and with a heavy heart, kissed everyone good bye and headed north back home.

 I dread going back to work on Monday, it will be so hard after having been off 2 weeks.

Wharton

I have a pet frog.  Yes I know, kind of strange, but aren't we all considered strange?  For a long time, he was in a terrarium that stood across the room from my computer.  Now, he is on the desk, just to the left of my monitor.  He sits at his preferred spot, and watches me at the computer. Today he sloughed his skin.  He does this about once a month.  It is a strange process where he uses his feet to pull off a very thin layer of useless dry skin.    He is now a bright and shiny green.  Almost as if he is starting over with a new skin.  I wish starting over where that easy for me.   

I wonder at how good his life is and how lucky he is sometimes.  Food on a regular basis.  Warmth from the heating pad all day.  Fresh water every day.  Entertainment from watching me and the cats.   Nothings trying to eat him.  All good right?  Then I wonder how horrible his life is.  Trapped in a 13in by 20in glass box.  The same food everyday.  No where to go except the few features in his terrarium.  No adventure.  No female companions....  There are 2 views to his life.  His view point looking out.  And mine, looking in.

There are 2 sides to every story.     When the other one left, she said a lot of very negative things about me.  I ignored them as best I could.  I missed her dearly.  She was the sunshine in our relationship. She was the source of most of our laughter. I understood that she was resentful and angry.  She saw me as an interloper, an enemy.  She walked out that day with out letting me know that I was the reason she was leaving.  She left me with questions.  She left me with out warning.   I didn't find out until later when hollow came home that she left because of me.    I am sure that there are conversations that I was not privy to that led to her leaving.  I am sure that I will never know the particulars.  I only have one side to the story, and that one has many holes in it.   I don't contact the other one.  I leave her in peace to get on with her life.  I do know that she has found happiness, and I am very happy for her.

There are 2 sides to my recent story.  Neither one is pretty.    There is the side of the story that paints a girl fighting to make a committed relationship work.  Then there is a side of the story that tells of how she died a little every day being in a glass box.  

All Wharton has known his entire life is a glass box.  He was hatched in a small white plastic container.  Then moved into a glass box.  Shipped in a white plastic container and put up for sell in another glass box.  He came home with me in a white plastic container and I put him in a glass box.  He does not pine away missing the thrill of hunting his own food.  Or pout at being alone.  He is after all, just a frog.  Lucky frog.

Of Slaves and Submissives

My Great Grandparents are buried in a Slave Grave Yard.  I know,  I don't look like I am black!  Well,  keep in mind that biologically I have 8 Great Grand Parents.  One was Cuban Mulatto the other just black, both were decedents of slaves.  The other six were a mix of Spanish, Cherokee, French, and Irish.   In a strange way,  I am proud that I am the descendant of slaves.  I do not perceive the title slave as an insult.

Once upon a time a slave was a person that was forced and sold into slavery.  In BDSM it is a life style choice.   People that bought slaves looked at them as an investment.  Slaves had no choice in the way they lived, no voice in how they were treated.  They were given the minimal of needs.   A roof over their head, clothes on their back, and just enough food to keep them alive.  Masters/Owners kept their investments and treasured possessions healthy and productive.  Had breading programs to produce more workers.  Once a slave became non-productive, they were traded, or sold.  Now don't get me wrong, there were those owners, that saw slaves as expendable.  They would starve them and work them to death.   I find it ironic that even today, there are both good slave Masters/Owners and bad slave Masters/Owners.  I have heard plenty of horror stories about the bad, and been lucky enough to meet some of the good.

Slave:

1. (Law) a person legally owned by another and having no freedom of action or right to property

2. (Business / Industrial Relations & HR Terms) a person who is forced to work for another against his will

3. a person under the domination of another person or some habit or influence

Submissive

1. inclined or ready to submit; unresistingly or humbly obedient.

2. marked by or indicating submission.

Being submissive does not mean that I have no strength or opinion.  However, being a slave means that you are entitled to neither.  If your Master chooses to let you have a voice and choice, that is his or her allowance.  I have a mind and an opinion.  I have the ability to think and say what I believe to be just, correct, needed, and desired.  Just because I use both my mind and my voice, does not mean that I am not submissive, it does, however, mean that I would make a horrible slave.

Not too long ago hollow asked me to declare myself a slave.  I was put in a very uncomfortable situation, pressured and all but forced to declare the title and I couldn't do it.  I am not a slave.  I just could not do it.  I see the title slave as that of a person that has no options.  In order for me to be a slave, I have to trust that my Sir is taking into account what I would want, what I might need, and how I might feel.  My Master would have to know me so well that everyone in the room would think he was psychic.  

I think that in my past, I was over looked too often. Too many choices have been made that did not take into account what I needed or didn't need in my life.  Too many times I was overlooked in the decisions that were made.   I can see me being labeled as a slave one day.  However, I have to feel safe,  protected, and loved by the person I would be calling Master.  Feel that I am his first priority and that he has only the best intentions for me.  That even in the smallest decisions, he is taking my desires into consideration.   Until then,  I am simply submissive.   I am not submissive to everyone, just like I can not be a slave to just any one.