Sunday, December 8, 2013

Not Fitting In at the Regular Dungeon, Not Getting Over Them

I wasn’t ready to see Steampunk Guy. I walked into the party happy and excited but when I saw him across the room and we kind of shrugged hello, the wind went out of my sails. I tried to do my best and be a part of things anyway. Old-Timey Guy asked me to play, which made me really happy since I usually ask him. I asked The Puncher’s Girl (Actually they broke up, so she gets a new nickname if I end up going back.) if she would like a spanking and she got very happy about that.

I was okay for a while, feeling confident in my Christmas Snoopy underpants and red satin heels even though he was right nearby. I thought about saying hello but I knew if I got too close, I’d feel the pull and I’d be even further from over him. Plus I’m probably still too angry to form words. Luckily there was a paddle and a lovely, squirmy ass on which to express some of the anger—she was more than okay with this, and I thought could make it a good night.

Then Steampunk Girl got there and my heart twisted up into even more untenable knots and I asked TPG if we could please be somewhere that’s else.

We went to a far corner of the room and snuggled, held tight and had co-aftercare. I let the tears come, but even they were hollow and disconnected, no real soul behind them. I felt like every part of me was cut off, like I was ugly and unworthy to be part of things and would never connect to people again. I felt like a failure, for not staying friends, for not getting over them, for not figuring out how to be what he wanted.

I felt like a creep and a freak for the fact that they have this effect on me. All he was supposed to be was a casual partner WAY BACK WHEN and I was supposed to treat her as a friend. But what came from seeing them was the distilled essence of the fear that I will always be alone, that I’ll never be worth as much as she is, that the universe forgot to make people for me, that I am too ugly and worthless to be loved or even remembered by a man. I wish I could’ve made all that go away and acted like a normal person, but I couldn’t.

TPG said “You shouldn’t have to be any more vulnerable than this, let me go get your clothes.” She helped me to get dressed and then she took my hand and led me out of the room, all bundled up and as fast as we could go.

I was too vulnerable last time I tried the dungeon, too. Maybe it can’t be my happy place anymore. I am scared to death that I will never be happy and sexy and brave again, that this person, cut off and scared and getting fixated on people who were not supposed to be a big deal, is all I’ll ever be.

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