For a number of years I’ve had regular tasks and goals, which were set me by my owner. Now I don’t.
Tethys (aka m’Lady) and I are no longer owner/property – although we are still very close and are working out what our relationship is going to be in the future – and so I no longer have those goals and tasks set for me.
No longer am I regularly doing various hole expansion exercises, hunting down porn clips in certain categories, trawling tumblr to find images ey will appreciate. I’m not putting my google-fu to the test by finding out who it is starring in certain images or videos. I’m no longer required to journal nightly (although I still journal when I choose to and/or need to). No longer do I ensure I have my collar ready to put on, and clothes taken off, before we skype.
Where did I go?
It’s been weeks since I’ve updated. Given that there’s usually anything between one and four posts a week from me, to go over three weeks without any at all is extremely unusual. The last break I had of any length was actually the end of 2006, when I dropped off the radar for three months – and I wasn’t planning to do that again!
That time, there was no particular reason. This time there was. So, what happened? It started when I went into hospital, in extreme pain – we ran through a bunch of possible diagnoses, ruling out the appendix, kidney and gall stones, and the sacroiliac joint. Every time a new possibility came up, the surgical team, in combination with x-rays and an abdominal MRI, figured out that wasn’t it. And eventually, after three days, they send me home with wicked strong painkillers and orders for bed rest.
I like words. I like them a whole lot – whether they’re spoken or written, they hold a deep appeal to me. I like to to read, to write, to talk and to listen. To learn from the knowledge words impart. For me, words are intense, powerful, strong and moving.
But when it comes to believing someone? When it comes to truth or lies? Then, it’s more than words, because words – no matter how intense and powerful – are only a part of the story. When it comes to truth, lies, perceptions and beliefs, then actions must be counted. And when the two don’t match up? Then I’m far more likely to place stock in actions, and what those actions say.
I’ve got a dozen posts knocking about in my head and in draft, but I can’t seem to get any of them finished. Which is likely because this post needs to be done first – and I don’t want to write it. I think it has to be done, though.
I’ve broken up with people before. And I’ve been broken up with before. In all those instances, though, at least one party (if not both) was at the point when they needed to move on. Where their feelings had changed. Where what was ‘in love’ – or at least ‘love’ – had altered to the point where the relationship was no longer feasible.
If you turn your back to me, eventually I will also turn my back to you.
I will curl forward and hug myself, exposing my spine even as I know it makes me vulnerable.
But you’ve seen me vulnerable before, and never caused harm. Until now. And it hurts all the more for not being deliberate. For being thoughtless. Why did you not realise I was worthy of being thought about?