I Love You, M

I love you, my M. In a few hours you will rise before dawn and call me. And we will get to spend yet another few short hours together, before the start of another day.

I miss waking up beside you, feeling your skin, your fingers drawing lines on my body, the rise and fall of your chest as you fall back asleep, with me in your arms.

I am staying at my ex's S, while she and her wife are traveling to warmer climes. I have not been living at my beloved home for weeks now (terribly dislocating & painful), since G cannot be trusted not to hurt me, in ways large and small and always, sadly, underhandedly. And I am learning to be pissed, pissed without pettiness, but with self-respect, and I am now kicking G out of my brainspace she has desperately been trying to occupy (as in W Bush and the Iraq Occupation) as she seeks revenge on me for refusing to continue the horrible game, and for ending the too deep well of my emotional and financial support of her. I remain surprised that she continues to fight bitterly with me over ending a relationship that was manifest daily most often as bitter and relentless fighting.

Much to M's (and all of my friends' worried relief) I have finally realized that I have to let my blind heart give way to my clear mind when the target of G's (perhaps conscious, perhaps unconscious) manipulations. My mind is my only real defense, because G shrewdly realizes I really don't like to fight, I do prefer kindness and seek harmony (my strong desire to remain friends), and she has cravenly sought to appeal to and exploit these traits in me financially and emotionally while she berates and belittles me, but she mistakes my kindness and generosity for stupidity and weakness, and now I am, finally, pissed.

I had hoped that G and I could be friends (as I remained with S), but I now understand it may not be the case for a very long time, and perhaps this is a good thing for now. I hope G finds happiness, somewhere, sometime, with someone who can love her unconditionally; she deserves a good and loving life, but that is not to be with me.

And now, finally, to sleep, so the next sound I hear will be the phone and M's voice welcoming me to the morning.

Surrender

I have been meaning to write a post about a moment shared between M and me, when we met in early February. It's rattled around in my head for weeks now, looking for the right moment to find form and speak. It sort of happened like this:

M and I had been talking about fucking each other for weeks before we met. I wanted her, and want her still, in the worst way. I wanted to feel her inside of me, in an unmistakable and unforgettable manner, to mark our first time together. My desire for her was earth shattering, my need for her was relentless and cruel in its primal urgency. I longed for her confidence, love, and complete control, to find complete release in her power and in her strength. I begged her to fuck me endlessly, to fuck me until my pussy was raw and sore, and then fuck me some more. And yet, still, to care for me, love me, and never to hurt me without my consent, and to that end I was willing to give to her my complete trust, to give her my will.

After 20 hours of fucking, once we finally met, my pussy was "fire engine red" and painfully sore from her cock pummeling and thrilling me. She fucked me energetically in a all kinds of positions: doggie style, pushed face down on the bed on my knees in the plow, bent over the bed, on my back with my legs wrapped around her upper back & shoulders, on my back with my legs straight up against her front so she could hold my ankles and watch her cock sliding in and out of me, missionary, on my side, well, you get the idea, M is very inventive and very driven. After fucking me hard for an hour and knowing that I was close to a g-spot orgasm but not yet ready to release, she pushed me on my back and got on top of me, her cock dangling between her legs. She looked down at me, as I lay in an exhausted and sore heap. She said very matter of factly "I want you to come for me, there is a come in there and I am going to get it. I know your pussy is sore, baby, but I am going to fuck you until you come for me." I looked up at her, my pussy burning and aching after hours of fucking. She said "I am going to give you what you asked for, do you remember what you asked for? I am going to give you what you want." In a fog, I could not remember. She said "You wanted me to fuck you until your pussy was raw and sore, and then fuck you some more. So I am going to give you what you wanted. Understand?" Weakly I protested, "Please, no." She seemed surprised and said "I don't know why I am listening to you," and then, simply, "Who is in charge here?" I felt as if I had no strength or will left. I was afraid of the hurt. But I looked at her, she was so certain, so powerful, so sure. My mind wavered for a moment as I considered my option to refuse her, and then I simply let go, and surrendered my body and my mind completely. I looked at her and said "You are." I was hers to do with as she wanted. I had no will but her will. And all resistance in me, all the voices of reason and control vanished. And in that moment, I also found myself, in my willing assent. She then said, quite gently and tenderly, "I won't hurt you, my love, I'll never hurt you, okay." And as she fucked me and fucked me hard, I found that my red and raw pussy that had ached for hours was now oddly and blissfully without pain, I felt only pleasure, and then, in an enormous unending cascade of relief and release, of pleasure and complete surrender, I came, I came for her, my darling M, I came for her and became wholly hers. It was our miracle.

Finding My Life

M is coming on Tuesday to fetch me, so we can spend 9 days together at her home in the Midwest. Hopefully she will miss the storm that threatens tonight, a major Nor'easter, with snow totals up to 10 inches here.

I am not at home tonight, I am with two lovely friends who have taken me in, because I could not take more of G's outbursts, and I was becoming too stressed, finding myself upset, confused, or crying after being yelled at, scolded, mocked, or belittled. I understand G has a lot of pain and she feels some comfort at being a victim of something, but I can't feed into it anymore. I also can't expect to find rationality and reason in raw emotion, I have to stop trying to find what may not be there, just accepting it and letting it be, instead. So I am staying with friends until M comes, and will return to housesitting two other friends' home when I get back. Hopefully G and I can agree to an exit date certain when we meet again tomorrow in therapy with our gay boy. But I am not holding my breath.

Thank you to fimg, pom, diane, and pbd for your thoughtful, supportive and helpful comments on my last post. They were actually very helpful to me, and were instrumental in getting me to this current evolution. I do appreciate your thoughts and insights. This is a hard journey and it's a hard balancing act, and I am trying to find that middle path that honors what was good about my relationship with G, and maintains my self respect and integrity. G has made it a point to let me know she is not going to tell me anything about anything she does or whom she sees (I have not asked), though she regularly asks me probing questions about my life and whereabouts; I realized that it is not unhealthy to keep a separate and private life from each other, and so I will. I may be slow on the draw but I eventually get there (I hope). I also realized the first and hardest task for me is to get G out of my head. I can't keep letting her live and grow in there and then wonder why it feels like my head is going to explode. I need that room now to face both the great potential and the great challenges of the life I have and of the life I want, in a way that is responsible to and respectful of who I am. It's the grown up way, surprising even for a middle aged lesbian like me, who thought I knew what grown up was. Shows you how wonderful being alive is: life remains full of endless surprises, lessons, joys, and blessings.