I see what you did there.

I suppose I should know better...but why fight it when relinquishing control is so delicious?

I hate it when someone says “We have to talk.”

 

It doesn’t matter what comes after that. My hamsterbrain jumps right onto that Wheel of Misfortune and starts furiously scrambling. This is a reflex I have had for as long as I can remember. And it doesn’t fucking matter who says it or what the context is or anything rational like that.

 

This is one of the reasons that I tend to sit on things when I have some shit I need to process. I don’t want to cough up partially-digested emotional hairballs and try to figure it out in front of the world. I really feel it is often better to wait until I know what I am going to say, and I am emotionally prepared to deal with the potential responses. This is not a 100% of the time thing because running parallel to this impulse is an other truth: once a situation HAS been brought to light? I feel compelled to deal with it ASAP. Can’t have shit hanging over my head. The Conversation of Damocles doesn’t help me sleep at night. Yeah so I reserve the right to percolate and ruminate until I am ready but if I am in the moment? That shit needs to be dealt with now now NOW pronto motherfucker so that I don’t have time to fret, worry and create fanciful (and often erroneous.) storytales about what the other person’s process MIGHT be.

 

A week or so ago in a conversation with The Dominant Guy, he said something that stuck in my head a bit. Part of me started barking but my main reaction was “You’re probably overreacting dude. Chill the fuck out.” so I did. And I was fucking busy…IMsL, tech week for “The Lily’s Revenge,” home life unraveling. So I back-burnered it.

 

“Fair enough,” I thought “If it still bothers me in a few days I’ll ask him about it.”

 

And of course, it did.And unsurprisingly it began to ferment a bit and get stinky on that back burner until I had made up an AMAZING story about how this casual conversation was the harbinger of a potential deal-breaking issue that would result in, at least? My feeling rejected and somewhat smudged by a vaguely disingenuous framing of a relationship dynamic.

 

After a few days where life was just busy as hell we made some time to chat and catch up. I did NOT want to bring up this issue at that point because I needed time to talk and listen, did not want a heavy conversation, and wasn’t really prepared if the response to my queries was something tough to hear. There are only so many Zen Bricks of Doom one can take to the head in a month.

 

Later in the morning, I sent him an email and brought up the question. He called me almost immediately upon reading it.

 

“Why didn’t you bring this up when we spoke earlier?”

 

“Because it was the asscrack of dawn in my time zone and you know how I feel about mornings anyway! Because it had been a couple of days since we had caught up properly and I didn’t want it to be all about that,” I said. “and because I hate it when people do that whole “We have to talk.” thing so I avoid jamming other people into that situation.”

 

“Well I have no problem with that. In fact, I prefer it.”

 

I sighed. “You are crazy. I hate it.”

 

He explained that, in the past, people had used issues that had cropped up ammunition for later incursions. Something would happen, the other person would have an issue or resentment and sit on it but not mention it. It would be tabled, shelved, buried until such a time as another issue cropped up and then this previous problem, one that had NOT been discussed at the time, was suddenly a major problem and exponentially complicated the issue. BAM! Emotional Claymore takes you out at the knees.  So his current method is to get the information as it happens and deal with it when it once it has been sufficiently processed. This helps avoid those landmines.

 

“I don’t do that though,” I replied. “I feel like if I don’t say something fairly soon, that is  my bad, I have to suck it up. I will sometimes take that “personal responsibility” thing to a fault. But after my second long-term relationship where we did nothing but fight that way? I promised I wouldn’t ever do that.”

 

He reassured me that he was quite able to hear my concerns and wait until I was ready to talk about them, and that my bringing them up as they came up was a critical, vital aspect to keeping our communication healthy.

 

“OK, I can do that. Though I think that shit is fucking maddening but since you work best that way, I can put that out there for you and then do my processy thing.”

 

“Good.”

 

We then wound up having a productive chat about my question, and I processed my stuff a little more with him. I was very proud of myself for sharing the stuff I found a bit emotionally intimidating and I was glad he heard it without taking a defensive stance. And lo it came to pass we were back on the same page.  And there was much rejoicing.

 

Fast-forward to a couple of days ago and a situation where I was getting the gnawing on the base of my neck again. This was one of my hardest ones…one of those “I need you to…” things.

 

I am NOT. GOOD about asking for what I need even in standard situations: asking people towards whom I feel pretty bloody submissive is a Sisyphean task. Every step towards the top of the hill of Asking For What I Need is contra a boulder of what I think a Good Submissive SHOULD do.

 

Yep, I have ridiculous internal criteria sometimes.

 

Anyway it stands my teeth on end to have to say “I need _________ and at present that need isn’t being met.” because I feel like, OK, if I put that out there and the other person says “Yeah, I can’t do that.” now I have to make a decision.

 

Some days? Making decisions if just not on my fucking “To-Do” list, you know?

 

But I was under an injunction to do exactly that. To tell him if I was struggling with something so that he would know, and then I would have the time I needed to figure out the rest.

 

Keerist.

 

So in the wee hours of pre-dawn I stumbled through the issues over which I was tumbling, and sent him a message I thought wasn’t all that coherent.

 

Fact: My wee hours of the morning are his morning-morning.

 

Fact: some people actually get up early and … shudder… DO shit.

 

Fact: the moment I hit “send” on that message my brain buzzed and said “Yeah, dumbass, he’s gonna call you in about 5 minutes…”

 

I had one open eye on my phone as his ringtone burbled in the dark, illuminating my unsurprised expression. I answered with a wry smile. “Well hello there…”

 

Brief pleasantries done, he starts in “So, I got your commendable message,”

 

“Yes I know. Wait did you say commendable of commentable?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“…”

 

He laughed.

 

“Well you said that is how you needed that sort of communication to go. So I did my best. It might not be very coherent but yeah there it is.”

 

“No it is fine. So.”

 

“…?”

 

“Do you need more time to process it, or do you want to talk about it now?”

 

“I…I’m not sure I have good words for it. It feels jumbly and I’m kinda leery of not having words.”

 

“We can talk about it later…”

 

Oh. Oh no he didn’t.

 

Wait just one fucking second…

 

“Ugh! Come on. You know I hate that. No, yeah, OK. Fine. Let’s talk about it now.”

 

And so we did, and got back on the same page.

 

It is later in the day and I’ve slept a bit more and then a little while ago it hit me. That bastard went ahead and somehow end-arounded my own fucking process so that I wound up compelling myself to be more transparent in my dealings with him because of my own idiosyncrasies.

 

It is not bloody often I am outwitted out of my own tail-gnawing bullshit, but I strongly suspect that is what happened here. I am going to assume this is just some sort of eerie coincidence and not some insidiously sly means for controlling me that he happens to have mastered because someone THAT clever at making me think doing what they want is my own idea is…dangerous.

 

Very, very dangerous.

 

Sexy, and lethal. And dangerously irresistible.

 

Fuck.

 

 

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6 Comments

  1. Sunshine Love on April 29, 2011 at 4:29 PM

    I. Love. This.



    • mollena on May 1, 2011 at 3:13 AM

      ;-) Though it makes me crazy I love it too.



  2. SlipperyWhnWhet on April 29, 2011 at 8:01 PM

    Every now and then something you write is exactly what I need to read at that exact moment. This is one of those times again.

    Resentments… Yea. Those. *sigh*

    Thank you for being you and sharing yourself.



    • mollena on May 1, 2011 at 3:21 AM

      Awesome :-) I dig it to hard when I hear I’m not the only one wading through this stuff! Thank you for reading.



  3. The Dominant Guy on May 2, 2011 at 10:55 AM

    I do always find it interesting when there is the supposition that the slave loses their “self” to their master. Personally, I have no interest in that particular modus operandi.

    In a perfect world, my slave would be everything they already are (along with dreaming more) and then chooses to be in service to me. I would much rather have a slave with a great deal of personal power and ability. One who is not only capable of existing on their own, but flourishing. I consider it in this manner: I have many responsibilities in my life, between my job, my teaching, my hobbies, et. al. I do not actually want more. I would much rather have a slave who decreases my work load and makes my life easier.

    While there is a certain amount of give and take in every relationship, including m/S, in healthy relationships there is an ending even balance. Whereas in M/S, d/S, or o/p, the parties involved are complimentary. This is similar to Newton’s Third Law of Motion.

    Back on subject – If the Slave loses their self to me, then at that point I carry the greater burden. And this essential loading becomes sequential, as more and more of their being is absorbed by my will. With the superimposition of my needs, wants and desires, eventually one of two things happen:
    One – the Slave becomes resentful, goes berserk and begins throwing bananas, cucumbers, and what ever other phallic symbology is within their immediate grasp.
    Two – The Slave’s self awareness shrinks until not only is it non-existent, but the slave has become a small puddle of butterscotch pudding. Which if you are into complete stripping of the slave’s ego-self? This is the way to go.

    Either way? If you cut up the bananas and add them to the butterscotch it still doesn’t taste good with ‘Nilla Wafers.

    Just my 0.02$
    TDG



    • mollena on May 3, 2011 at 12:02 PM

      @TheDominantGuy I am distracted from a snappy pithy reply by your flagrant fornication with typical capitalization fuckery. If you keep m/S-ing me i might just wind up butterscotching all over myself anyway.

      Furthermore I think butterscotch WOULD be tasty with ‘Nilla Wafers and bananas.

      But um…yeah. Subsuming self. Not so great. There is symbiosis and then there is parasitism. We’ve all seen parasitic people and how they feed from their “hosts” and how well that ends. In what I would consider to be the hallmark of ANY successful relationship, all involved parties are well-fed without causing imbalance or harm to the other. I am sure that, for some dominant types, assuming total control over all of the impulses of another is their desire. And for the slave or sub for whom that relinquishment is a goal such an owner is suitable. For those who actually need to be free-range chickens, it is necessary to have our boundaries there, and to feel safe, but we need to be able to roam about and stretch out wings, too.

      Goddammit…more food analogies. What the fuck is this about?!