Here goes, the beginning of my blogging career. Oh, sure I had a LiveJournal account way back, and a myspace blog too, but both were very short-lived. They were too accessible to everyone I know. I want to be able to blog and have that possibility of it being read by anyone, but without the certainty that anyone I mention will definitely read it (and subsequently confront me about the extent of my TMI-disease.)
When it comes down to it, this blog is as emo as it gets, in the scene way-- bare emotions, left out in the open for anyone to comment on, because the attention is wanted. In reality, I have a journal, and I certainly have broached some of the subjects that are going to come up here, but I find it satisfying to share with others. Maybe it's my extroverted nature. At very least, I'll get some more practice with composing straight onto the computer.
There is a revolution going on in my life.
Part of me, the storyteller, wants to set this up, wants there to be a brilliant exposition so that the entire blog can be a series of rises and falls, plot climaxes (among others) and denouements like an EKG monitor. But that would require explanation, to the extent that I'd feel like it was too much, like ruining a perfectly good joke. So I'm just going to jump into the thick of it, like I do with so many things.
Things from last night that are particularly memorable: How, for once, I didn't want to be pushed around and told what to do; how I couldn't get wet because I was almost afraid (maybe it has something to do with actually seeing how the real BDSM crowd works.)
I'd overstimulated my clit earlier in the day and so couldn't really come from just him playing with it; that made me feel bad for him, like I wasn't as responsive as I should be (I don't know how I thought I should be. Ridiculous expectations, as per usual.)
I tried fucking him, and I liked how awkward yet powerful it felt to wear a cock.
I loved hearing and seeing him come (it almost made me come, in a small way.)
How fond I felt; how I told him that I'm getting too emotionally attached; how he asked me to touch his chest, even though he's sensitive about it; how he said he wanted to come inside of me. I already know I'm in trouble. I feel like I'm falling but it's such a bad situation: he's poly (not that I have a problem with being poly as such, but it's kind of hard for me to reconcile the idea with my preconceived ideas of love or whatever this is), and (much more significantly) he's leaving. Moving away. Bye bye, no more.
Tonight, I am anxious. Too much sugar and caffeine coursing through my body, too many sources of energy from my binges throughout the day. I didn't get enough work done. School is tomorrow. I have a test soon, but I can't focus. He's with her tonight.
This is very different than with T. With him, I knew about the others but didn't care; all I did was take. But this one... this one, I am getting emotionally attached to. This one is having a huge impact on my life. This one is managing to distract me from my studies, even. Big fucking deal, you say. In my world, it is. The funny thing is, before we did any fooling around, the talking was so much more difficult, more awkward. It's like the sex was our way of opening up, of getting to know each other and thus talk more, rather than the usual reverse function that seems to be most other people's mode of action.
In theory, I get the whole polyamorous argument-- I too, have felt, that I have a lot of love to go around, and that it's unrealistic to expect one person to meet all of my emotional and sexual needs. But in practice? I can't really tell: I don't know how much of this is just me being anxious, and how much of it actually bothers me. I do wonder if he compares lovers, though. How could you not? She's skinnier than I am. I hate that it bugs me. Fuck this. I don't want a competition. I am just doing what I usually do, wanting the person that I can't have. Common theme.
Speaking of the body issue thing, today has been my worst day in a long time. Mindless eating, knowledgeable binging, so much energy in my body it feels like my heart might burst if I stand up for too long-- this is not how I want to be.
This is not who I want to be.
What a start to National Love Your Body Month.
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