It is rare these days that I take the moment here to examine my own kinky ….. hmmm not sure which word fits.

One of the things that has attracted you to me is my honesty.  I pull the shades away and give you vizionz of me that only those in the inner circle get to see.  Even then, the inner circle doesn’t get to see all of it.

This afternoon, out of the blue, I ended up in the folders called “Daddy”.  It seems like such a long time ago since the official separation of The Man and I.

I don’t go to those folders often.  Shit if I had any sense I would delete them.  They bring to the surface too many emotions, too quickly for me to manage and they throw me off my game.  With court upcoming Monday afternoon, being off my game is dangerous, yet I found myself there anyhow.

I am sure that my shrink would say I am looking for the familiar.  The comfort that comes from the moments in my life where I was settled in such a time of turmoil for me.  Yet, those folders generate a different type of turmoil that is comforting and distressing at the same time.

So few people know the details of the story of The Man and I.  Shit, I don’t know the details sometimes and it was my life lived.

I can often identify which trigger sets me off, and plan around it so that it won’t set me off again, but today I cannot locate the trigger.

There is no anniversary, no birthday, no remembrance of a special moment, just the compulsion to re-visit the only place I’ve ever called home. And well that could be the trigger with home being in such peril, but it doesn’t feel like that is the why today.

The why eludes me but the feelings do not.  I find it a small measure of progress in a static existence at the moment.  What is summoned within me hasn’t surfaced for some time now.  I’ve done all that I know to bury it, and forget that it exists because replicating it seems like mission impossible .

Even as I plan kink-tastic-fest 2.0 ( a personal nickname for a weekend getaway I plan to be at … hopefully ) what is summoned within me when reading the words of The Man just doesn’t happen.

The closest I’ve come is August 3rd man, and even that is a distant second to what was.

Even as I plan to explore the option in front of me, I don’t feel what words on a screen summoned from inside me written by a force of nature who no longer is my own natural disaster.

When asked I explain….. that dog no longer hunts, yet when nothing else comes close I have to wonder if that is the truth.

I am always looking for the truth, and at this moment in time I might have to admit some truth to myself. Ugly it is, but I’ve seen ugly before.

As I look at the addition of Mi Familia, my present options, and all that is in front of me.  I am losing – swiftly – the idea that one person will ever meet my needs in the way they’ve been met, in the past, by The Man.

I have in a variety of places, in a variety of people, say 88% of what that one person gave me. And well, I don’t know if I have the energy to maintain all of those relationships when it only took one once upon a time.  I don’t feel like I have the energy for much, when once upon a time it took no energy, it was as natural as breathing.

One thing I am positive about, as long as I keep looking back I am blinded to where I am going.  My head on a swivel is going to only make me dizzy.  The back and forth is unattractive. I still looked back today though, and for my own sense of peace, looking back is not the best of actions.

I still did it though, and I still yearn for that connection.  With him?  I can’t say no. No would not be honest, it would be an outright lie.  As steadfast as I am with the new parameters I’ve set for myself, it is not impossible that he would meet those and Chapter 5 would begin.  The possibility of that happening is beyond tiny, but it is not invisible to the naked eye.

When paradise is lost how do you return to normal?

If I find out I will let you know constant reader.

 

Aphrodite Brown