Reblogged for the man in my life whose ideal house has more woman-based furniture than actual furniture.
i’m not really sure what’s going on here but both my kink and clean freak sides are rejoicing in harmony.
boyfriend
likeabikeseat reminds me a lot of my dom. Both are harsh to the point of perfectionism. And both scare me soaked.
their progress is pathetic. stronger measures will need to be taken.
It was one of the first things he said to me when he met me. Once he was really deeply into the lifestyle, I made him sit down with me and watch Secretary. When this part rolled around, I got chills.
Fuck. I miss him.
StandardWe just had a pretty frank conversation with each other. I know I talk way too much about us, but I’m at this awful tipping point and I just don’t know what’s happening. We miss each other. We love each other. And that really, really sucks. Seriously.
Because, facts upon facts, we can’t make it work right now. And it would easier to be like “oh, blah, you weren’t worth my time”. But it’s hard to shake the fact that I feel like maybe it was worth some more effort.
And he’s saying stuff like “I’ll probably always regret ending this” and he keeps blaming himself for all this and I really don’t know what to do with myself. Because I can’t let go of people. I can’t. It’s like a clinical sickness that we’ve failed to place in the DSM IV.
I’m sorry I’ve strayed away from the sexiness and playfulness that I was trying to achieve with this tumblr. But, ugh, this all came about and I just can’t figure out what I want to do with myself. Part of me is like “oh, goodie, freedom” and part of me is having such a huge problem with figuring out what the hell to do with myself.
I know I’ve been very light about the whole situation in the past. Even when I mentioned the negative about it, I tried to stay positive. But, God, it’s getting so difficult and neither of us are handling it very well at all.
Sorry for the rambling. Seriously. Feel free to skip this sucker over.
A certain somebody kind of goes sort of maybe a little just a teensy bit completely fucking bonkers whenever I wear tights like these.
He has some pretty big forniphilia kicks. It was something he just kind of had rumbling around inside of him, I never even introduced him to it. I’d never even really expressed much of an interest in. But, I’ve really gotten into it as a result of his interest. And, thus, yes, I’d be his tie rack if he wanted me to. I’ve already been his footrest a couple of times.
Bottom line: A couple that kinks together grows together.
So, here’s the deal with this infamous ex-boyfriend who I still talk to and who I mention directly and indirectly (he picks up on these, too) a lot so far in my tumblr’s small life:
He does not go to school with me. He does not live terribly close to where I go to school, though he does live fairly near where I live “at home”. He and I are not in the same place in our lives at the moment and it feels like, while the connection between us is so obvious, the rest of the world doesn’t fall together around us quite as neatly.
Simply put: We were absolutely the right people at absolutely the wrong time.
And that’s what seriously, seriously kills me. Because it’s hard to call a “relationship” quits when we’re both very, very deeply in love with each other, when we have something incredibly special, when we understand each other on a level that neither has experienced before, and when we cannot imagine our lives without the other present in some form.
So, we still mess around. We still talk. We still play. We still confide in each other. We still joke. We are still the same, basically, but without the pressures of a “normal” sort of “relationship”. This both comforts me and upsets me. This whole thing is relatively new, with us “breaking up” fairly recently, and we’re both sort of getting a feel for this different level of our “relationship”.
We miss each other, we love each other, and we absolutely want the best for each other. And, right now, the pressures of maintaining a serious relationship are just making us stressed out.
The quote chosen by the amazing sheslostcontrol-again to caption this photo is so, so real to me right now. I love Bukowski.
“The shortest distance between two points is often unbearable.”
— Charles Bukowskiwanderer-of-dark-dreams: astralis: pinkprincess17:masochisticbeauty:
Sent to me by a certain someone after he read a particular tumblr post about himself. It’s good to be known so well.
Model: Rigel for Suicide Girls
Before me, my last boyfriend wasn’t terribly taken with bdsm. It wasn’t that he was turned off by it, it was just that he didn’t understand much beyond the stuff he saw in pop-ups or the movies. He didn’t understand the root of it, he just understood how it manifested itself.
When we met, I was shocked at how open he was to everything. Not even just sexual stuff, but the stuff that came first. He was so candid, so amazingly transparent that it was hard not to feel comfortable around him. And I think that was what made me so uncomfortable at first. I didn’t want to just give myself away to someone so quickly. When I trusted, I trusted completely. When I fell, I fell hard.
He was pretty quick to comment on how “closed” I was. Probably about the third thing he said to me was in reference to how he thought I had a wall up. I tried to explain, but he didn’t get it. I said, “I’ve been hurt.” And he says, “well, everyone’s been hurt.” And I said, “I trust people pretty heavily.” And he replied, “well, so does everyone else.”
It wasn’t until the first time he dominated me, about six months after we met, that he saw what I meant. I went along with everything he tried as he explored this new role I’d given him. He saw how fragile I could be, how trusting I could get, and how hurt I could be made. My last relationship with a man before him had ended because we couldn’t transition from dom and sub into something else. The emotions didn’t match the desire and the transition out of the relationship was terribly difficult for me.
I was afraid to give someone that much of myself again and yet, for some reason, I gave this new guy an inch. Which turned into a mile and then a whole roadtrip of a wonderful, fulfilling relationship which is now a beautiful friendship. But I didn’t know that when I first let him dominate me. I assumed I could create an emotional disconnect like I could with just hooking up, but I couldn’t. I was already giving the inch, the mile, maybe even some of the trip.
When we finished, I was curled up on the floor, clinging to his leg like a buoy post-shipwreck. I wanted to tell him what this all meant to me, how much I’d given, what he’d signed onto, but before I could even find the words, he looked down and said to me, “I get it now.”