On the wings
On the wings
I don’t know why you’re not talking to me…well, not talking (like in the phone) but like not answering me back on text…anywhere. Whatever it is that is going on with you, you could at least say something. It never crossed my mind that we wouldn’t be able to talk…so what’s going on?
I have so much inside of me. I know that’s why Jay tells me to write. Sometimes it’s almost like there’s too much in me and I’m going to explode if I let it out or like it would leak out of a little hole and the force of what I’ve held in
I couldn’t even tell you how much I wanted you to just fuck my face tonight on Messenger or text or even here, now…it’s hard for me to say. Maybe You’ll read this or maybe not…and it took me years to be able to think that way in words…and many more to be able to write this now. But you wanted me to say…and now I want to also. And that’s even with the apprehension that You may not like that.
However, I hope You do…and I don’t always want that or talk like that…I mean, goodness gracious…many times (like now) I wish I could just suck You (maybe to fall asleep that way) then the thought crosses my mind that I sound selfish here…unless these are things You’d like, too. And in between You make my knees weak and I blush and get all giggly (but You know that).
Anyway, now I’m sitting with a candle in front of my crossed legs, which are under the covers. It’s barely cold enough to sleep tonight, even with the A/C on 64. The candle smells good, lavender and cedarwood.
I suppose the smell of the lavender is calming me so that I can crawl under the covers and go to sleep.
I miss the cold. I miss the Winter. I miss You.
Ronny brought up the point that today was probably going to be the last Birthday that my Mom would be able to enjoy and appreciate the same way as she has. She’s not doing well. And all I do is think of you…my family is so nutty…maybe not every second, but my Mom has always made such an ordeal out of things, probably because of her bi-polar and narcissistic personality disorder and now it’s just getting more and more difficult to deal with…she’s more of a challenge with that Alzheimer’s and vestibular disorder…goodness gracious. And I can’t be of much help to her but it all starts to add up more and more with her…like her not eating enough when she was pregnant with me but I lived! And if I hadn’t been so strong, I wouldn’t have.
I’d like to look back later and see what we had written last year at this time. I wondour what I still have. Probably all the emails…maybe the texts, too. Not sure.
But I need something at night. I eat too much sweets at night…or really, just the nighttime eating is what’s so bad for me. And so I need something…and I’m hungry. You know that. I want to be able to have You at night…and me, I want me, too…but no matter how I look at it, one does not take the place for the other. In fact, nothing does. I had an offer to have someone here for the night, tonight…and I wish I could (because of the hunger) but I can’t! I wish it were You and oh, boy…I bet I could!
You once said how much You’d like to feed me…in so many ways… And You know that’s what I need. So maybe when I said to You the other day…I want to play with You but I have to work with You…I need both! That’s more accurate.
I talk to You sometimes and I still have moments where I slip again like last year after we met. That was before You decided we were to be “just friends, for now”. And just like then, to myself, I’d call You “Master”, like I did just now.
I’m sorry You feel obligated to Elizabeth. It seems like she needs You a great deal and yet, I know for me…that I can’t settle anymore. And I would think if You felt it was her…it’d be her. It’s been a year and a half…
For me, I feel it will be easy with someone I’m meant to be with. Playful, interaction…like it is with You. Easy…yes, often we work for heart to heart connections, even the ones that are within ourselves and (of course) those are the ones that originate all heart to heart connections!
I’m just learning. With You, it’s just natural (without all the analysis).
That’s nice and really enjoyable. Makes me smile. And I’m hoping the giggling affectation continues and You still feel it as infectious, the way You did mantis ago.
Once upon a time…hundreds of years ago, there was a Man and a Woman. They weren’t young things so they both had lived many years alone, after marriages, after divorces, the woman, widowed from a second marriage and with a child, each of them hoping that it wasn’t too late and both of them barely balancing between hope and despair. Some say that is where artists live, and these two were artists…both of them. They wanted to remain hopeful that there was someone out there for them, that they wouldn’t make the same mistakes that ended in their respective divorces. The man had gotten to the point of being in such despair over this that he fell into a rut seemingly so deep for countless years. He was questioning the validity of being hopeful at all. She had stopped questioning but hadn’t painted in many, many months and she seemed afraid to start painting again. She had little inspiration. After they met, nothing had been the same for either of them. He walked into the gallery where his stunning reactive glass tiles were displayed on that Saturday afternoon right after Thanksgiving. He began to remove the tiles and she (almost hesitatingly) asked him what he was doing. They ended up going for dinner later that evening. He was leaving town in two days so what could possibly happen? During dinner he looked at her as they conversed. Something changed. He felt it. It was palpable. When she looked at him and saw into his eyes, she could barely look up at him again. He kissed her before they went to their respective homes. She melted in his arms. He knew…he could feel it but he held her there and kissed her so deeply. They were a perfect fit in that kiss, that moment…a perfect match…without even knowing each other. It didn’t scare either of them, at least not then, not right away.
They stayed up much of the night talking on the phone and the next day when he came to see her in the gallery they were both tired.
And for each of them, they were a muse…he said she was one of his muses and she knew he was one of hers. But I’m getting ahead of myself, because, (as I mentioned) they were both artists, too. And so the man assessed things (as men do) and concluded the thing for him to do was start up his glass studio on his property so that he could pour himself into his work, certain that would help.
And she cried. She started painting again. Big, beautiful, emotional abstracts that poured out of her fingers. She had always been a painter but somehow (after they met) her painting was different now. After many days, the tears fell away and the paint flowed.
She would spend hours painting and even late into the nights (when she couldn’t sleep) and now some of these newer works were so deep, so full of feeling that they carried the emotional memories of her figurative work from fifty years earlier, when she was just a young girl, in the art studios of the Greats.
We met last year on this day. We were out having pizza at exactly this time (10:47pm) and nothing has been quite the same since then…but I get mixed up, and I miss you (just like you agreed when you were here on my couch two weeks ago). Now I’m on the couch. But I’m still with questions. I’m always so hungry at night and always for you. But you didn’t kiss me. And I don’t know why. You didn’t let me suck you…and I don’t know why. I don’t know if you read these entries or if you read my emails and I don’t know if I ought to keep writing them to you. But I do miss you and I do know why.
Often I awaken thinking of you. And tomorrow is Sunday…the Sunday! The Sunday You had Your hands all up in me and You felt the Dominance in You and how naturally I gave You control of me…Your hand stroking my neck…it all just flowed with us…it’s never really been any different than that, then or now. Except that before I knew You I didn’t long to play with You and I didn’t think about any of those things You said to me and now, I still think of them and wondour…if You meant those things…like You said that You did. But You are so busy…no wondour You have difficulty getting close or letting someone get close to You. And yet You seem to be involved with two women …and challenges or problems with both. That’s a shame. The new Dom. You seemed anxious with me when You were here…and then distant. There is a bond that takes place within D/s. We are bonded that way. It was almost immediate. And it’s not “just friends”!
I hope You’re thinking about me tonight, remembering …And I hope that You sleep well…and have deeply erotic and partially disturbing dreams…in a wisdom producing, healing manner.
I wish it were snowing and I were with You now.
I just had a moment going through the fridge…getting stuff out to throw away and deciding what I wanted to make for my afternoon breakfast…and I had a moment when I was aware only of what I wanted for myself…that’s all! Cool beans!