Radiant as the SunPosted: July 14, 2014
I am still trying to get a handle on all of this.
I am one of those pathetic girls, staring blankly ahead, saying “I don’t understand. I just don’t understand.”
In my head, in the logical part of my brain where facts reign supreme, I know it was not me–it was him.
He wanted to do whatever he wanted, and have me go along with it.
He called me crazy, because I was upset, and he didn’t want me to be.
I know this.
But the rest of me…the part that has been ripped into a billion pieces and left for wild animals to pick over…doesn’t get it.
It’s like having a great conversation with a good friend who, out of nowhere, punches you in the face.
It’s like flying on a reputable airline and having a good natured flight attendant pick you up, kicking and screaming, and hoist you through a window into free fall.
It’s like floating lazily down a river and being suddenly sucked into a whirlpool, gasping for breath, fighting for life.
It’s like none of those things. Because I saw it coming. I saw. I just couldn’t accept it. His misogynistic comments about other women made me feel like I was on the inside–like he would never tell me about those things if he was going to do it to me. Like I was above all of that–special.
He said he loved me, and then he didn’t anymore.
I know that the fact is, he never loved me. It was never true.
But the way he held me, looked at me, spoke to me…
Did I drive him away?
Why couldn’t I just have sucked it up?
Why couldn’t I just have taken it? Been submissive? Known that scraps are better than starvation?
Bad thinking. This is bad thinking. A submissive, despite what he says, is a person, not a thing.
He gave me nothing.
He was willing to spend on me. He was willing to give time as long as it didn’t interfere with whatever else he wanted to be doing. He was willing to fuck me silly because HE wanted to be fucked silly. He was willing to take me out and show me off so that he could feel like a stud. But giving isn’t giving if he isn’t willing to actually sacrifice. Giving isn’t giving if it doesn’t actually cost anything.
All I wanted was his time. His reassurance. For my place to be real, but he couldn’t do that.
I have met with two other Doms in the past little while. I met with them because they were specifically looking for secondary baby girls and I knew I wasn’t going to do that, so it seemed harmless. It distracted me, got me out of the house, and gave me people to hang out with.
The one would like to get together again, but he can’t this week. Why not? Because his young one has been out of town, and he is going to “fuck her for a week straight” now that she is home.
The second one would like to continue to hang out, but won’t if his baby girl is uncomfortable with it.
They are out there–Daddies who actually consider their baby girls more important than getting their dick inside as many chicks as possible.
They are out there–Doms who understand that while they call the shots, their love for their little one dictates that they put her first.
I applauded them both. I may have actually clapped. Good for you. Do it right. LOVE her. Make her happy. Understand that your power does not make her less of a person.
So why is it that I cannot stop questioning myself? Feeling like I am the reason why I cannot get a Dom to stick it out? Why do I feel like I need to delete his number from my phone so that I will not contact him? Why do I feel like if it hadn’t been for Jailbait, we could have been so happy? We could have gone for 20 years, like he said he wanted to? Because I would have. I would have gone for 20 years. But if it hadn’t been her, it would have been someone else.
He lied to Yoga Girl. He lied to The Girlfriend. And he lied to me. But I was the one who got thrown out, because I caught him. I called him on it. I wouldn’t let it go. I wouldn’t lay down and die.
It’s not him, it’s me.
Because I am a person.
Because I deserve more.
Because despite the fact that I worshipped him like I worship the sun, I could not allow this.
I didn’t come first, but that’s okay, because I put myself first.
I am my own light. My own warmth. My own sun.