I really don’t know how else to say these things, so I’ll apologize up front if any of this comes across rather shocking or blunt, or even a bit “adult” compared to what I normally write about.
Here goes…
Back in August, I came across another blog while looking up porn. It was a gay themed blog focused on the Daddy/boy, or Dominant/submissive, types of gay relationships. I like that sort of thing—being submissive to other men. And I loved this particular blog. It wasn’t just a collection of images, it was interactive and welcoming. I liked the owner and many of the others who commented on there. And they liked me, too. I loved writing things to them that was sexy or erotic, knowing I could turn them on, loving their responses back to me. I felt like I belonged. For the first time in several years, I felt like I belonged. I felt special and wanted, and that made this little online world I’d stumbled into so special to me. It was, if nothing else, a place for me to escape into. I was allowed to communicate with others who feel like me and with those who like guys like me. That’s not something I’ve been allowed much experience with before. But I loved it. I felt very much at home in that world.
A couple of weeks ago, that blog was unexpectedly ended by the owner. One day he’s posting, commenting, and others are commenting, and the next day, nothing, the blog is gone, no heads up or nothing. I found out he had wanted to end the blog and just didn’t want to have to say any goodbyes to anyone. I’ll be honest, I’ve bawled my eyes out over this. I can understand him wanting to end his blog, but I wish so much he had given me some time to get used to the idea. I wasn’t ready to give up this world. I wasn’t ready for it to come crashing down, to be ripped away from me forever. Even if it was sinful, I don’t care, because I loved it. I loved being a part of it. I loved the people and I loved how right it felt for me to be a part of it. I know I’ll miss it forever.
Something this experience did was help me to realize what I want in a relationship. I like men who are stronger and more dominant than me. I like being submissive and loving and affectionate. I like someone else taking the lead. I like other men wanting me.
I know I am completely unsuitable for being with a woman. Eve knew this. I think that’s why she really broke up with me; she knew I could never really last or be happy in that relationship. It wasn’t that I didn’t like her. It’s not that I didn’t love her even. Or that she didn’t love me. It’s that I couldn’t be what I needed to be for that sort of relationship to work. I wasn’t right for it at all.
I
am right for being with another man though.
About a month and a half ago, I was contacted by a man through an online dating site I’d signed up on sometime back. I decided to respond back to him, and the night I did, we literally stayed up for hours talking to each other. It was on a Friday night, and I remember it was around five or six the next morning before we quit talking. To say we hit it off fast would be an understatement.
He’s two years younger than me, loves cars, playing video games, and watching movies. He has a little girl he takes care of all the time and absolutely adores. He is sweet beyond belief, calls me baby sometimes in such an affectionate way that just drives me crazy for him, and he is somewhat bashful at times, which I find incredibly cute. He’s a great guy, and I know I’m in love with him.
It’s been three weeks now since I was last able to talk with him though. There are reasons for this which I understand, but also some reasons which I don’t understand. I honestly don’t know if I still have a boyfriend or not. My hope is that we will eventually be able to be together again, but there are some nagging doubts that I have about this.
This relationship, too, has been something I wasn’t ready to give up. Unlike the blog, I don’t know where the relationship I was in stands though.
I feel so tired of caring. Every time I care about anyone or anything it just gets taken away from me. It seems to be a pattern I can’t escape. And I don’t know how to deal with such losses in very positive ways.
I’m so tired of being lured into a false sense of comfort, believing everything is great and grand, just for something, anything to always inevitably bring my world crashing down upon me.
I’ve felt really stressed the last few weeks. Not even the most recent holiday has helped.
This Thanksgiving didn’t… I don’t even know if I could say it was Thanksgiving. I had a meal with half of my family, but it seemed more like a reunion with distant relatives than anything else. And I didn’t even get to be around anyone from my mom’s side of the family.
When I was younger, it was, in all honesty, the time spent with those on my mom’s side that I enjoyed most about the holidays. With my grandma passing, and my aunt constantly sick these days, all that’s gone now. Mom doesn’t much want us doing anything for her side anyway (just her way of trying to avoid stress).
God, I miss my grandma so much I can’t stand it. Thursday night, my brother and I went and got pizza for us and my nephews. We didn’t have leftovers, we didn’t have games and fun with family… it didn’t even feel like a Thanksgiving. It just felt like some weird, awkward day that didn’t make sense to me at all.
I feel like I always lose everything. If it’s good, it never sticks. I feel so frustrated right now. I know what I’d like my life to be like, but I can’t have it. I’m so tired of feeling bad all the time. I’ll feel good and things will be going right and then, WHAM, I’m knocked right on my ass. I just wish for some period of time I could actually just be happy.
In another world, I was a confident, happy, sexual being who was well-liked and wanted by others. In another world, I was loved and wanted by someone who I loved and wanted. In another world, I was happy with family and innocence. In another world, I felt like I belonged and was wanted in church. In another world, my dreams are still alive. In another world, I still have all the things I’ve lost. In another world, I wouldn’t feel bad about being me. In another world, I wouldn’t have to feel as though I was living a lie with every breath of the day.
I don’t know how you all will look at me now for admitting these things. Am I lost? Am I sinful? Do I even still care? I honestly wonder about that at times. But then I doubt I’d feel so bad if I didn’t care...
I feel like nothing makes sense anymore. I’m tired, scared, in poor health. Nothing seems right anymore. And anytime I think things are improving or starting to look up, I just get my legs kicked out from under me and the wind sucker punched right out of me.
I feel like there’s no way for me to be who I want to be. And even if I got that, I don’t know if it’d be right.