NextChapterIV

I suggest someone quit looking over their shoulder then.  My thoughts and desires are set forward carrying the experience of a life time.  If you have something to say to me...then say it...other wise...move along and get the hell out of my way...your blocking my view.  There is nothing here for you.

I was talking with a friend today via phone. He was on lay over at LAX to Kathmandu. He saw my journal entry about my prior relationship. He gave me the in-site as to why I was so sad during that time. It is actually quite simple he said. I was denied the comfort of nesting in a place I wanted to make home with a man I wanted to love. Everybody needs a nest. His words brought me comfort and validation I needed. He said every "girl" wants to be loved, cherished, supported emotionally and him denying you to nest was control over you.  It was a situation...a situation that has changed for the better...just for YOU.  You knew you were dieing inside...you needed to change it so you could live your life the way you were meant to.  He further explained I had more facets than an Ideal Cut Diamond. It is that complexity that make me interesting. You have no business laying with a simple cabochon made of glass.  Some may be will suited to lay with glass, but not you. You need a setting that makes you shine.  Your former life was not it.

The conversation shifted to my living room set that I had bought. He was excited that I was now starting to feel comfortable being alone. He said that it showed progress and I was building my own nest. He told me, continue building my life and really get my jewelery on the market. We talked about Tuscon Gem show coming up, how I really needed to be there and that he wanted me there. We talked about Kathmandu, what art dealers he was going to see and the dig sites he was going to.  He did not know if he were going to India or not and there is carpet weaver in New Dehlia he wanted to talk with. Then back talking about the Gem show, again, he wants me there. 

We chatted until the Captain said, "please turn your cell phones off". It was a conversation I needed.

Thank you, Matt.

Our last trip to St. Louis for the weekend, he cut a corner too close and bounced my car into and over a curb.  I looked at him like WTF?  He shrugged and mumbled "Its not Mine"....

$475.00 to get it fixed. 

I went shopping for furniture today. It will not be delivered for another 45 days. I had ordered the sectional to match the love seat. It is very pretty and bought both pieces on sale. I also bought an 8x11 Australian wool area rug. I am pretty excited about it.

I have lived in this place for a bit over a year. I had left my prior relationship while he was in Los Vegas with one of his friends. I figured, since he tells people I moved in while he was away at a NACAR race for a week and never left...it would be a good thing to do this while he was gone to Los Vegas.

These are my thoughts and my reality of the relationship.

I never thought not having my own things around me would prove so detrimental to me. I lived like that for 5 years. The only things I had in the house that was his were a few photos and old trunk I had restored. The trunk, he claimed as his own. I had been dragging it around with me for 15 years. Its a sturdy trunk and it was all original down to the nails. One day, shortly after I had moved in he decided it would make a great toy chest. He put it on his work bench and took out the nails and replaced them with sheet metal screws so he could make an insert for the top section. I stood there watching him do this. Every fiber in my body was screaming...NO!!!! NOO!!! But I could not say anything, I just stood there in silence and utter shock. I loved the trunk the way it was. When he took the trunk back into the house, I picked up the nails and put them in my pocket then into a small box I keep special things in. I wanted to cry. Yes, he did put his things the trunk, I had to find a place to put my continence that once was held in that trunk...No , you cant put that there...was the response. So, into a box it went then into the basement with my other things, I could not have or display.

I was able to have 2 drawers and ¼ of a closet for my clothes. My clothes were usually wrinkled and made me feel unkempt. I am usually a stylish woman and it was a hard adjustment for me but I learned to work with it. Just had to put my things into the dryer to get the wrinkles out before I wore them.

I was told time and time again that it was His house. Yes, it was his house. Nothing could be changed or adjusted. If I wanted to bring something out and display it, I would have to work around his things, which could not be moved from where they were. Mind you this is not a very large house and out of respect I left my things in boxes because I didn’t want to have that utterly cluttered look one would find in a trailer trash house. So, I resigned that, I simply could not have my things around me. It was bad enough I had to live with John Wayne clock and photos, Dale Earnhardt memorabilia, Star Trek, Star Wars and Kiss posters. I felt I was living with a 22 year old kid. Not to mention the cum stained sectional he takes great pride in. I did clean that couch twice when I lived with him, I am certain it has not been cleaned since.

I tried to make a flower garden at his house. He pulled out the Box Hedges with his Jeep one day. Judging by the look on his face when he did it, I got the impression he was very angry with me. I just thought since I could not have anything of my own in the house, it would be nice to have a flower garden. When he got out of the Jeep, he said to me “you wanted a flower garden???there!”. I had mixed emotions about it. I wanted to cry thinking he was mad at me for wanting anything. I ordered flowers for the spring. When the delivery was made I put flowers in the ground. The first year I was very pleased. The flowers were beautiful. I hired someone to clear the weeds the following fall. Needless to say, the guy ripped me off, I paid him in advance and never got my mulch I had paid for. When I told Master what happened he laughed at me instead of trying to help me he told me how stupid I was. Yeah, I did feel pretty stupid and he could have made it better with a hug. But, he didn’t.

I would look to him for help only to get a blank stare, shrug or was told figure it out. I felt alone and unsupported. Even when I showed him what I was working on...it was more of a “So?” from him. I did not expect an ohhh and ahhh, but I thought I would at least get more than a indifferent shrug. When it came time for me to set up my metal bench for smithing, I was afraid of the flame coming from the water heater. I did not want to blow the house up. I did ask him about it, he said it would be fine. Thinking propane was heavier that natural gas...I was still fearful of blowing up the house. So, I asked a friend of his that is a Firefighter. He told me to put a vent in and a carbon monoxide detector when I had the electric installed. I thought it was a good idea. Master was upset that I asked someone else. My trust in him had eroded by the 3^rd year.

The last and final time we played as a couple was in that 3^rd year. He had made a breast vise. Two pieces of wood a foot long and about a inch thick. 3 8 inch bolts, 2 on each side toward the end and one in the center. He sat me down and had me take off my shirt and bra. Then he broke out the vise. I told him “NO” he told me to stop being a cry baby and just do it. I complied. I was not in the head space for this. I did not want that thing on me. He placed my breasts on to the bottom board. I must say my breasts are size “I” so they are not small little things. As he was screwing the top piece down my skin kept getting caught in the threads of the bolts on the side and the center. I would make a discomfort sound and he would tell me to “shush” and kept screwing the top plate down. Between the pinching of the threads and the smashing of my breasts I was agony. I did not want to do this and this was anything but consensual...but, I had to do it to please him. By the time he had this thing the way he wanted it I was in horrible pain. Worse than any Mammogram I had ever had. He then breaks out the spoons and proceeds to slap my breasts that are poking out the front of this thing. I finally said Uncle..my Red. He called me a big fucking baby, unleashed me from that thing...tells me to get dressed and doesn’t speak to me for several days. The sex after that scene consisted of face fucking and tit wrenching. As far as conversation? There was none. This type of sex went of for several months. It was in that time I made the decision that I was going to be Asexual. I told him he was not to touch me again. I lived sexless for the last three years I lived with him. He reached for other woman. He had conversation with other woman, he friended other woman, though it was understood from the beginning he would continue to do this. I cannot say I blame him, but he was Master, he could have fixed what was broken between the two of us. There was no more communication, not that there was before.

This entire 5 years really made me understand I was nothing more than rent to him. He got mad because I had a need to have my own things around me. Upset that I wanted a flower garden...which died the 4^th year anyway because of the weeds, clay and rock. Nothing would grow in that soil. I do equate that small flower garden to a sign of our relationship. Dead Dead Dead. I tried like mad to cultivate it. But nothing would flourish.

So, when I moved out...it took one phone call to one of the girls he had stashed away to quickly replace me. Enough said.

I am worthy of the love and respect any other woman gets. But you were not the right person for me. You did not meet my own needs. Trust which you broke over and over again, love and encouragement that I never got and that I craved you freely gave to other woman and never to me.

I may be alone the rest of my life, but thats okay. I have me...I have my friends and I have my life. I am good with that today.

While I am a switch, I am a selective bottom.  I have yet to meet someone that can penetrate the wall I have put up that allows my own full submission.  Each day the wall gets harder and thicker. 

I want someone that has the experience, patience and mentor-ship that is required to handle me.  Communication and questions are key element's to untangle the damage that was done from a prior relationship in the BDSM world.  All I know about that relationship is physical pain, skull fucking and being ignored.  There was nothing erotic about it or sensual.  My body needs to be touched and I need to be held.  My trust....is just not there.