Anger is just grief in the wrong house.
I was in the wrong house.
Lucky for me, I am on my way home.
FB: what you doing?
Me: angry crying, why do you ask?
FB: don’t do that
Me: you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore
not yours not yours not yours
Funny note. I work with a woman who is a dom. She is strong and beautiful. Part of her Halloween get up was a riding crop. She swatted me with it playfully and I caught it before she did it a second time.
“That’s not yours to hit. I am already owned.”
She squealed with delight and we had a lovely conversation that will work itself into a post, probably sooner than later.
I wasn’t submissive with Final Boss, but I was accommodating.
Wow, I can totally see the issue with that word now.
Never showed emotion, never complained. Overuse of the words “I understand” and my patented “okay baby”. There was no need for conflict.
I do understand. It is okay baby.
And this is not conflict. I didn’t fight then, I am not going to start now.
Nothing to fight for.
I saw what he said, I threw up in my mouth a bit. Angry cried and now it’s done.
Well, 3am drug induced rambling apologies. If he said sorry one more time I would have gone where he was to and hit him. Anger is just grief in the wrong house. He was not in my house.
Wolf said “you tried harder than most would have.”
I did. It’s what I do.
And it’s enough.
I am enough. Always was.
I am writing my own closure and a eulogy.
He said he didn’t have enough patience for a relationship. I had enough for both of us. And I will let you in on a little secret. Seeing each other multiple times a week, calling me when you have a pulled muscle and can’t move, hanging out with your friends, with mine, feeding me, fucking me, cuddling and watching nature documentaries. That’s a relationship, or as much of one as I expected. I never asked for a damned thing, except one supper out somewhere so I could wear a new dress I bought. Never happened. The tags are still on and the weather has gone too cold to wear it here. It wasn’t meant for here and I wasn’t meant for him.
My best girl
said “there is no better woman for him than you.”
She knows us both, she is one of the few that have seen us together. She knows.
I know. Somewhere close to the surface, he knows it too.
I forgot to ask myself if there was a better man for me than him.
There is.
Someone who balked at the idea of me being accommodating. Someone who expressed concern about me being alone when he couldn’t be with me, before he realized how precious my alone is to me. Someone who considers my quality of life when I transport myself closer to him. Someone who is plotting and scheming to make sure I am financially capable of looking after myself doing what I love. Someone who trusts me enough to say “you can fuck him goodbye if you need to.”
I will tell you the god’s honest truth. He looked good when I saw him. He has this cheeky but ravenous look when he sees me, and I looked really good. I know I did. But as the truth came out and my back went up and I started to get angry, he said my name. Repeatedly. I don’t think he ever had before, he never had to.
I didn’t like the sound of my name coming out of his mouth.
I physically recoiled from the noise of it.
He doesn’t know me at all.
It took me 4 shots of whiskey and about 10 minutes to piece together everything he was saying.
There was an audible click as the picture became crystal clear. My face changed. My eyes sparked cold fire. My spine turned to steel and I laughed.
He said my name, in an attempt to stop me I guess. Nails on a chalkboard.
I said I was done and I walked out the door.
That would have been when the credits should have rolled.
But there were 2 late night phone calls full of no’s.
My roommate told him point blank “you are a real piece of shit if you don’t at least go say goodbye to that girl.”
He didn’t, I knew he wouldn’t and I didn’t need him to.
I am not that girl anymore.
