Tears fill my eyes to the rim And like a rushing wave They fall down my cheeks Slicing a path down my face My skin grows cold I feel despise fill my veins The dread of my mistakes I’m so stupid! Never trust again Never trust again
Once upon a time… But no more is he mine His lies made me cry Does it come easy to him? I gave myself to him Blindly I thought I was his He whispered he was mine The nights are silent now Reality settles in on me It feels as if I’m under water Slowly floating up I’m so tired
It has been a while now. The habit of looking for your messages has lessened….if only a little. I have reconciled with the fact that you will no longer answer my calls. The desperation has subsided to longing. I have refused to look at your words for several weeks now…if only for self-preservation. No more do I write to you daily, filling your inbox with sorrow and anger that will one day be deleted by some automated demon…unread. But I still hear your voice….sometimes a whisper…other ...
Yes, I know: you've been wounded, and wounded again. The urge to hide is so strong that the simple act of stepping out the door, greeting another day, taking another risk, reflects heroic effort. Welcome, wounded friend, to the company of the shattered. The internet is rife with recitation of a line from the 13th century Sufi poet and lawyer, commonly called Rumi. "The wound is the place with the light enters." Translation is treacherous, translation from ...
Just to lay some questions and fears to rest, I have not left the library and I have not simply disappeared. In a previous blog I spoke of redirecting and refocusing my energies and my goals. That is what I have been doing. More than anything, I have been writing. I set a goal to spend at least 4 hours each day at some writing goal or project. I have mostly been able to meet this goal. I have several new projects in place as well as the old projects that are ...
Someday I’ll try again to find a Dom. But what if he’s not out there? What if “My Mr. Perfect” doesn’t exist? I thought I found it this time, I thought it was going so well. Long phone conversations, texting every day, amazing sex, deep mental and emotional connection. We even had fun together, laughed during sex, lazy time spent resting in his arms or on the couch talking with our feet meeting in the middle. Everything was so easy. Except one critical ...
Updated 04-10-2016 at 10:38 AM by sweetlynaughty
I'm back. Again. It's been a loooong journey since the first posts in 2008 when I was first admitting to myself I wanted to be submissive. 8 years of a relationship, 5 of those married, have finally come to an end. Lots learned, but the most important is that I cannot give up myself for someone else. There's a major difference to enjoying submission and being walked upon. She never became the Domme I wanted. She wasn't able to fully admit to herself what she wanted. And so I went ...
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