I Think it’s Good to Remember…

That what you read here is half of my half of the story.
You read what I choose to share.
From my perspective.
You’ve never heard Sir’s side of the story about our interactions.
You read me.
Sometimes in the midst of an emotional turmoil.
Sometimes it is raw and the feelings are still with me.
Sometimes I embellish.
Sometimes I edit.
Oftentimes, I omit.

You read a product.
An account of my interactions,
In and out of order,
With a person whose identity I seek to protect,
Even above my own. 
This is a serialized telling of my life with him.
I leave you with half chapters.
And some of you… some of you
who I’ve never even interacted with
choose to believe you’ve read the whole book.

And in your heads, you paint him the villain
you paint me the villain
You make assumptions about our identities.
About why I stay anonymous.
About the realities of our situation.
About me.
About him.
And this is good.
I want you to wonder.
I want you to make up stories in your head.
To fill in the gaps.
To think of Fatal and Sir as what they are:
characters.
Characterizations of two real, flesh and blood people.

But if you think that your filler
makes for good fodder
to feed into my sensitive heart…
If you are an asshole who is seeking to hurt me
I want you to know
that I don’t give a fuck about you,
or your assumptions.
That my heart is sensitive for people that I care about.
But I am dead inside
for those who try to cross me.
That’s not an embellishment.
Nor is it a warning.
It is a statement of fact.

I grow weary of PSAs.
And I feel like I shouldn’t even waste my time with them.
The people who email me their opinions don’t even have the balls to say them in an open forum.
So why do I give them the head space or the blog space?
Because it’s my blog.
And I do as I damn well please.
That’s why.

My new email is FatalSyndrome@mail.com
Please take note.

Post-coital Meanderings

Sometimes when I am still floating in the after sex haze I have thoughts that course through my mind completely unfiltered. I pick up my phone and type out a draft and save it for later. This is what this is:

 

I love the way I say “oh, god” when I am at a loss for words and you answer, “Yea, baby?”

I know that you are asking me to elaborate on what I’m feeling, instead of just calling to a nameless divinity.

But part of me…

Thinks that part of you…

Is acknowledging that when I’m calling out “oh, god” I’m calling out to you.

And I’m not saying you’re a god… because I’m not that far gone. But when I am so far gone, and so deep in our play, and so mind fucked by you… you are the only one that exists for me… in the whole world. In that moment it is just you.

And so for moments… you are the Alpha and the Omega, as it were. When I’m calling out “oh, god” I am calling out to you.

He is Generous

I have a generous lover.

He pushes me when he knows I want and can take more.
He goes easy on me when he knows I need it.
He asks me what I want, even when he has an idea of what he wants.
He is patient. He is kind. He is understanding.
He doesn’t bat a lash when I ask him to maim me.
He doesn’t bat a lash when I ask him to treat me sweetly.
He indulges me in all things.
He laughs with me.
He is turned on by me and never fails to say it.
He makes me feel wanted, needed, beautiful.
He speaks to my body in a secret language that is all his own.
He marks me and makes me feel base, possessed, owned.

I am his princess and his slut and his girl and his pooh.

TMI Tuesday: Get inside my Head

Oh Behave.

oh behave_tmi

This week TMI Tuesday takes its cue from the world of psychology and sociology, which both deal with behavior.

1. Catharsis – What behavior or activity do you do to achieve catharsis.

Weep and Sob, self destruct, sex, rage, etc etc.

2. Self-affirmations was made famous by Saturday Night Live character Stuart Smalley (now Senator Al Franken): “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and gosh-darn it, people like me.” What self-affirmation do you say/or should you say to yourself?

I don’t self-affirm. I’m not quite at the self actualization part of the pyramid yet. I suppose I should, it might make me a better person, except it’s pretty hard to look in a mirror these days.

3. “I knew it all along.” What did you know all along?

That this is all there was.

4. Daydreaming. About whom or what was your last daydream?

Whom? Naturally it was about Sir. When is it not? Tsk.
What? I was imagining myself in a different country.

5. We all have fears. What fear (real or improbable) have you taken steps against to protect yourself.

I fear being abandoned. Because of this… when I feel people or imagine people pulling away, I tend to shoot first and ask questions later—I usually try to ditch them before they ditch me.

6. Relationship churning–How many on-again off-again relationships have you been in? Why would you say you that you repeat this behavior?

Exactly zero. I don’t play that shit.

Bonus: Self-monitoring is the ability to both observe (or measure) and evaluate one’s behavior. It is an important component in human behavior that aids one to measure their behavioral outcomes against a set of standards. What sort of self-monitoring do you do on a regular basis?

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

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How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link totmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

I Have Weak Ankles

sustained from an old injury. They only flare up every once and again. Enough to make me fall head over heels on occasion.

My hair grows like a weed. I cut off six inches two or three weeks ago and now, I can barely tell a difference.

I grow my fingernails long and smooth and rounded. I used to file them into sharp little points once upon a time, but I’ve grown out of that phase.

I keep my feet in pedicures… they’re one of the few luxuries I really, really indulge in.

I have a soft heart and it makes me cry easily for animals, small children, the suffering of others, and the beautiful agony that is my own suffering.

I have a strong will that lets me struggle and strive.

I have an unhealthy relationship with food and consequently, my body, that my personal trainer is trying to break me of; instead of seeing food as sustenance, which is all it is, I see it as both the enemy and comfort, depending on my mood.

My favorite parts of my body are all the little bony places: my wrists and ankles, my collarbones and hipbones, the tiny points where my ribs poke out beneath my breasts.

I want, more than anything, to travel, penniless, through the world, making my way the only way I know how.

But that thought frightens me too, because I know the terrible, squeezing grip of poverty well, the way it makes you unable to breathe, the anxiety it gives you, the scars it leaves… and I never want to know it so intimately, ever again.

They say people who drink whiskey straight are real alcoholics. I prefer to think of myself as a connoisseur.

My compartmentalizing skills are legendary: they are how I survive but also have the propensity to ruin me utterly.

The bottom part of the year is my favorite. Autumn is passing into Winter, and the cold air soothes my spirit. I’ve been listening to Christmas music like I need it to live, and I’ve had a roaring fireplace every night for a week… warranted, by the way.

I want something dangerous and exciting and new to happen to me very soon.

I Struggle With Body Issues, But…

then he says things like:

“My cock is hard because of how beautiful you are, baby. Every inch of you is beauty to me. Every inch of you is gorgeous. I love your body, Fatal. You are what brings me pleasure. You’re everything that makes me so fucking hard. I want you to know how much I need your body. I want you to love that knowledge.”

And I can feel it all chipping away slowly, like it was never there to begin with.

It’s not gone, not by half. But he worries at it like a dog at a bone. Never letting me feel like I am less than, like I am not beautiful and worthy and anything short of a goddess.

And though his words do not negate the years of inner torment that I have faced at my own hands, they make me feel… for moments, in those moments, that I am those things that he says: beautiful, gorgeous, desirable.

That I am worth… being wanted, pursued, loved.

TMI Tuesday: Serious Business Pants: ON.

Let’s Get Serious

tmituesday serious

1. What are you most afraid of?

Drowning, dying… abandonment.

2. Do you believe in life after death?

I’d really like to believe in reincarnation. That life goes on.

3. What is your purpose?

My purpose is to help people.

4. Where are you going?

Wonderful places.

5. Do you fear hell? Why or why not?

I don’t believe in hell. And if I did, I certainly wouldn’t fear it. They’d have a place reserved for me.

6. Do you feel free?

Some days… I feel free as a bird riding thermals.

Bonus: Why do people point to their wrist when asking for the time, but people don’t point to their crotch when asking where is the bathroom?

I’ve seen people point to their crotch when asking for the bathroom.

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How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!