i guess you read the blog

i guess you read it from time to time....

battlefield

Miss R,

I doubt if you ever read this blog but just in case you see it, I am going to tell you how I see things.

You wanted a friend, a roommate, a part time fb, and when it didn't work like you thought...you did everything you could to try and push me away.

I wanted a lover, a friend, a confidant, someone to trust and hold me dear in her heart. When it didn't work out that way...I held on and begged and cajoled and cried. It wasn't pretty but it wasn't mean. I begged to be loved. Pathetic but not mean.

Mean is knowing how much someone loves you and just letting them hang there twisting. Mean is pretending to be a friend and then saying you can't. Mean is letting someone think it might work but knowing that it won't. Mean is giving someone false hope. Mean is saying abusive words and then telling that person they are abusive. Mean is stomping on someone when you know they are down. When you know that the person may not make it to the next day.

You made passes at my friends and then pretended that I was just jealous and crazy.
I wanted to share my life with you and you tell me that I keep people away from you. You push me away and tell me that I want too much. You pull me into your bed and then tell me I shouldn't expect anything. It was your rollercoaster. You invented it and kept it moving.

I was always expendable Miss R.

I feel used and cheated Miss R. I'm hurt and angry and I know that I'll survive but there will never be trust in my heart again, ever. My heart is broken and will never recover the way that it was in the beginning with you. You know what I'm talking about Miss R. My heart leapt for a chance to love you.

This blog was my only witness.

truth and consquences

I loved you MSR. Truth. It broke my heart. Consequence. Please be careful with my heart MSR is all I asked. We started our relationship in secret. It was an affair. It continued. I was your lover. Then we shared more time, friendships, and then lived with one another. I should have known when the bedrooms were separated that I was being held hostage by my own desperation. I never wanted that separation. It hurt me to the core. It filled my psyche with division. I only wanted to share and be wanted like I wanted you. To love and be loved. A redemption for all the years I spent loving someone who never could love.

There were shared moments of love and kindness but I couldn't let go of that distance between us and now here I am forced into that distance beyond any abyss I've known. I cry but mostly I ponder why I loved that much, that hard, so full of desire. MSR will always be my special love.

Noodles and other shared language

You are MSR. It was my password. My secret romance. The ring of it in my ear kept me smiling.

That secret is gone now.

Our secret language has been broken. Noodles. I even made a mixed cd with the noodles on the cover to show you how I felt for you for christmas last year. Noodles were mine. Other folks could call them magic circles or something else, but to me they were noodles and when you asked me what I was doing to you, that is what I said...noodling.

You have broken that secret MSR.

Where is the language that we shared? It is piled in a heap that you tossed away.

You meant the world to me and it's gone.

secrets

We share secrets. Secret fantasies. Secret histories. MSR. I share this only with you.

Use me MSR. Play. Gag me while I'm on all fours in front of you, your pretty feet resting on my back while you watch the television. Have the belt or cane by your side just for kicks. Stick you toes in my cunt and I'll noodle you slowly. Still gagged.
Whip me for fun. Force me on my knees to clean the floor, the toilet, the shower while your piss goes down my face.

Demand your servant sleep on the floor or send her home.

Your knock at my door could only mean one thing. Bring you the wine, feed you, noodle you. No words are needed MSR.

loss and regret

MSR, I am deeply sorry for hurting you. The pages that I've written here are only evidence of my vulnerabilty. I lost control of who I was when I realized that I could not have you that way that I wanted and it was beyond my power to fix things. I deeply regret my actions and know that I have along way to go to find my centered self. I will miss you dearly in the months ahead but know that I do not want to hurt any more and only want to make myself a better person. I pray that when I feel whole again, you are willing to accept my hand in friendship and possibility. Again...please accept my deepest apology and deepest repentance.

fantasy

I would come home and she would be waiting or I would be waiting for her. To bring her sweet wine and kisses. To strip each other. For her hands upon me. Our lips together and our legs entwined.

There would be times of hard work and equal relaxation. Lazy languid days filled with cooking, lovemaking, and absolute naughtiness. Time to build shelves and paint and make a home.

It was all I wanted.

She could have asked for anything she wanted if I felt secure. My submission would have been complete.