HOW WERE YOU NOT AT THE WEDDING???

That just says it all really.  Laughter, frustration, wowness.  Everything.

True though, I fucked up majorly there.

A real gets-inside-and-rips-you-apart pain

All the love's still there, I just don't know what to do with it now.

You know I still can't believe we both did some things I don't even wanna think about.
Just say you love me, and I'll say I'm sorry.

Oh can you tell, I haven't slept very well since the last time that we spoke.  Please understand I've been drinking again and all I do is hope...

Placeholder

I am unable to write the post I should be because of my current mood.

The post I should be writing, is about something very positive.  The post need not be overwhelmingly positive, but as I started to try to write it, my bad mood focused on all the negative aspects, and 3 lines in I abandoned writing because it was so obviously going to be a negative post.

But it does make me wonder.  In an ideal world where I could write both in the same moment, how would they compare, what different impressions of the situation would they give.

Something big is worrying me

Something big is worrying me.
Something that is not mine to worry about.
Something that has now been more or less fixed.
But I'm still part of the cause.

And that concerns me.  Both because I dont want to be that person, and because I was right.  I've learnt the hard way instincts are always right and I still don't hate it any less each time.

I'm completely overanalyzing, but it's what I do.

I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself

I was asked to write something specific.

I agreed to.  I shouldn't have.  I am far more uncomfortable with the idea than you'd think.  I'm not going to write that post.  My blog does many things, but mostly it functions as a form of therapy for me.  A way to say things I wouldn't otherwise admit, an outlet when its dark and late and all I can do is talk into the void, something that forces me to find words when I don't know how to explain what I'm feeling.  My topics are chosen by whatever most needs to come out that day, somewhat on whim, somewhat by internal struggle.  There are always countless blog posts in draft form and queued in my head that I've never managed to find the right words for, the right time to commit to type, that I'm not happy with when I read it back to myself, and so never go out to whatever audience reads them. 

I've been told several times by people that my blog reads very distinctly in my voice - more than just stream of consciousness, it reads how I speak, my voice is clear in it, and I've also been told that I shouldn't lose that.  Writing something specific, given to me by someone else, would lose that somehow.  It would feel very forced.  To me and to you.  I guess that's why I've never got around to writing that 'topping from the perspective of a bottom' post I was asked to write years ago now.

At any rate the topic was supposed to be on the lines between fantasy and reality, and that's not really a concept I have.  I don't have many fantasies.  I don't consider myself to have a particularly visual imagination.  I think it's better to go in with no expectations, to see where things go, and to fly with it.  It's led me to some amazing situations - travel and boyfriends and new homes and jobs and everything.  So experience further hardens my belief in this approach.  Sexually of course I have things that turn me on specifically, but I couldn't articulate why.  Any kink, or any part of sex in general eventually boils down to "I just like it"/"It gets me hard"/"It makes me horny", simple as that.  Anything more is just fluff and filler really, that doesn't really explain it to someone who doesn't already feel the same.  So no I don't have fantasies.  Not in any way that I understand them as such.

I pretty much always approach things head on.  It's always reality, nothing less.  It makes verbal/aggro etc even harder for me - those are pretty hard kinks to not feel stupid doing at the best of times and it HAS to feel real or nothing at all for me.  Probably why the trust/fear dichotomy thing is such a big turn on for me - it's the epitome of that realness.

But anyway, to keep me occupied for now I have a mission.  It's wildly outside my comfort zone.  It requires me to do things I'm not only not good at, I'm in fact crippling bad at.  Things I find hard, and uncomfortable and scary and sometimes can't bear the idea of.  But a part of me is willing to at least give it a try.  Because the person who set this task is trying to help me, they're making me become a better person and get past my limitations.  In a very roundabout, cleverly disguised way.  I'm currently 50-50 as to if they even realised they were doing that and intended it.  But it might just be clever enough to fool my brain. 

So I'll try.  And I'll fail.  And then I'll try even harder not to beat myself up about that fact.  If I can do that last bit, that's success for me.

Fight

It's going to hurt.  Really really hurt.
I'm going to regret it.  Genuinely in-the-moment-wish-I-hadn't regret it.
I'm going to love every single second of it.  My imagination won't even do it justice.

I can't fucking wait.

Ambivalence

There are few things more simultaneously comforting, and worrying, than a boy reaching out to hold my hand.

I will find a way to save you.

The Eighteenth Charm

One of the most terrible secrets we can keep from those close to us, are the ones that they should know, that we need them to know, but we keep to ourselves through all the pain, because it would break their hearts to tell them.

One level higher than you

Harry, smiling, had asked Professor Quirrell what level he played at, and Professor Quirrell, also smiling, had responded, "One level higher than you."


An invitation to dinner.

A simple card.


Tie game.

Weekend Summary

1) That I will actually obey the orders of ANYONE who isn't there to actively enforce them at the time speaks VOLUMES.

2) The repeated uncontrollable, uncontained grin on my face as I remember the moment we both almost let go.  I know I've said this before about our friendship, but seriously: Dangerous.  I can't wait.

3) Stamps.  This won't make sense to you.  But stamps were the inexplicable source of great, unexpected and deep joy this weekend for the silliest of reasons.