Love and loss and finding peace: a rambling meditation

please forgive the extremely disjointed nature of this post. i'm tired and have a cold and am still somewhat emotional - who, me? but i need to get it down here as much as to have a record of it as anything else. thanks to all of you for your forbearance.
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i had a meltdown yesterday.

it was nobody’s fault really. but there were a lot of contributors. hormones and hot flashes, exhaustion and overload, loss and potential loss, all played their parts.

and there was an unintended trigger.

my professorial pervert gave me a new assignment as he continues his training of me to better serve his desires. it is a very reasonable assignment, creative and evocative. unfortunately, part of it recalled a particular penchant of the philosopher’s, and as i read the careful instructions i started to cry.

and kept on crying.

the tears and distress continued for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening.

i was in such an odd sort of pain. i was horribly aroused by my tutor’s words, as i always am. my cunt was wet and swollen and it hurt. extreme arousal can truly hurt. but my heart hurt, too. it wasn’t even a case of consciously thinking “oh i love him, oh i miss him, oh this was something he used to write about, this was something he would make me do and the memories are too difficult to bear, etc. etc…" it wasn’t that specific. it was just this pain of loss deep inside. the awareness of absence, even as i yearned for my cruel collaborator and his chain and his cane and his pain for which he wants me to beg. my needs have been separated from each other, the love and the sadism, the caring and the control. i need both and i pine for the one i lost.

hearing later that my favorite aunt has breast cancer didn’t help.

i felt like an utter failure. my evil educator had made a very welcome request on top of the assignments, and i could fulfill neither the request nor the assignments. the crying was making me feel out of control and sick. and i was embarrassed at how my grief and the sense of loss still possessed me.

finally, as always happens eventually, i broke down and sent the philosopher a rambling, disjointed, miserable message, and then took a tiny little half-pill to see if i could get the crying to stop.

he sent me a message back, which i didn’t see as i was trying in vain to be productive. and then he called.

he is so good to me, this man. i don’t know if it is because he no longer feels the weight of being responsible for me, or because my mood swings are less common and normally not landing in his lap, or because he himself is feeling better, or what. but he has gone back to being supportive and welcoming when i am in need.

there has been some discussion among the comments about how i do not receive after-care from my demon muse. i was admittedly concerned about this tenet of his going in, but for various reasons have found that it is not an issue. however, i DO need to be taken care of – not necessarily in connection with my lessons, but in connection with life. i need to feel that someone cares what happens to me, that someone is there when needed, that there will be arms around me when i need comfort. verbal arms will do the trick – they are not ideal but from the right person they can be quite effective. they just have to be there.

the philosopher’s arms are there for me. and slowly i am coming to accept that as reality, and slowly i am accepting that it is ok for me to turn to him. and slowly i am coming to believe that he won’t turn his back on me for being upset.

instead he says “it’s ok, kitten, i understand. we both have our moods.”

so we talked last night. or he talked and i mostly cried. and something came out of it that i hope will help me find peace with the change in our relationship.

he spoke of the fact that we are both struggling with our feelings.

it was funny in a way. he mentioned it and then went on and i almost shook my head and said wait. go back. and like a cassette tape in a machine without a tape counter it took a few false tries to get back to the right spot and finally i had to repeat what i had heard him say.

so yes, we are both struggling with the loss. and he thinks about me all the time. and he reads this blog almost every day, which i know from my stats and eventually knew even when he disguised his address. and after hugging that outright admission to myself, and after thinking how sad it was that here were two people who cared for each other so much (whatever names you want to put to the emotions) but couldn’t make things work as a relationship, i realized that maybe there was a way to ease the pain.

my idea was to separate the two issues.

being without the daily contact hurts.
being without the rituals hurts.
not being his alarm clock,
not getting tucked into bed at night,
all that hurts.
not choosing my panties for him hurts.
not going without panties for him hurts.
not cumming for him hurts
but at least i have my demon muse
so some of my needs are being met and more.

not being his girlfriend hurts.

but worst of all has been the feeling that i have been alone with all this emotion.

so now i’m not alone with them. but still, for various reasons, as “a relationship” it can’t work. but i’m hoping, perhaps naively but i have to try whatever might work, i’m hoping that by splitting the two issues i can hug the one to myself and slowly come to terms with the other.

as was always the case, distance and dissertation are overwhelming obstacles. and understanding the philosopher as i do, as i do now more than ever, i can work on trying to accept that. he could end up with a job in Nowhere, Kansas or Wasilla, Alaska and we wouldn’t have a chance. but at least i don’t have to face the loss alone. i know he is suffering from it, too, and somehow that makes me feel stronger. and happier.

so i cried (big surprise) and we talked, and he calmed me down, and showed his concern for me, and how he is looking after me, and then he said that i was exhausted and that i needed to go to bed. and i said “yes, sir”, quite automatically, and then apologized, and he said that’s ok, in this case it was appropriate, and i felt so safe and reassured, and it felt so good to be taken care of again.

and oh rats, i’m feeling weepy again now, but in a good way.

i didn’t get to bed as fast as he would have wanted, i still had too much to do, and i did still cry some more. but i felt much better. i do feel much better, except for having a cold.

in a way, it feels like the earth has settled back on its axis. we have each other, even though we can’t have each other, and that makes me feel stronger and safer. and i have my sadistic Sorcerer, or rather, he has me, and that makes me feel stronger, too, if not always quite safe. actually, and oddly, i do feel safe with him. we get too much from each other for him to want to push me past what i can take. i truly believe that, and i do know that he paces my lessons very carefully so as not to go too far too fast. even if his reasons are selfish ones, the outcome is the same, so i think you can all relax on that account.

the oddest thing about yesterday is this. i have these tiny square-shaped dangling earrings, that have a stylized outline of a cat etched into the surface. i took to calling them my slave kitten earrings, and wearing them would make me feel very owned, almost as if they were a collar. they hadn’t come from the philosopher, i had bought them for myself, but i assigned them the meaning and they were very powerful for me.

i have not been able to wear them since i stopped fighting the philosopher’s attempts to break up with me.

i had not worn them until yesterday. for some reason, yesterday morning i felt i could deal with putting them on again.

and today, i was able to put them on again.

no, he doesn’t own me any more. a doctoral student has enough to deal with. but when i need him, i know he will be there to take care of me. and if he will let me, i will always be here to take care of him.

and somehow, i hope we are starting on a road to finding peace.