My Love

Feo and I have been together for five years now. we just had sex for three and a half hours and it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I am still breathing hard and high on the euphoria. For the first time ever I dared to play with my submissive side of eroticism. I have played only a little with dominance and submission, and until tonight, only with the dominant side of the equation. I was always told that I was a natural. That I was good at it. Now I know why, and next time I'll be a thousand times better at it.

There is a freedom in giving over control to someone else that is so liberating, so completely, unabashedly selfish, so... pleasurable, that I have no words for it. I wanted to cry with pleasure so many times. I felt so good, so relaxed, so able to experience my own pleasure. Normally, during sex, during any interaction really, there is a complex system of deception and second guessing that's going on all the time. I kiss her and she moans, and I wonder if that means she's enjoying it, or only that she wants me to think that she's enjoying it. So I look for other clues. Her pulse, the wetness of her sex, her willingness to make eye contact. Even during the most intimate of times I am trying desperately to understand what is going on for her. She kisses me and I moan, and I don't know myself whether it's out of enjoyment or eagerness to communicate enjoyment. I am always trying to manipulate her into pleasure and happiness. I do well in romantic relationships because I am a master manipulator. I am a pleasure engineer.

This was different. For once, I just let her have her own pursuit of happiness and pleasure. I let myself be completely in my own experience, and I found that there was more physical and emotional pleasure available than I had ever known. I was emotionally abused as a child. My fathers anger was huge and frightening and unpredictable. I learned to keep sophisticated emotional tabs on him, and everyone else around me so that I could keep myself safe. So that i could predict and disarm the explosion before most people knew one was coming. Always fearing an attack, I have never really trusted anyone, during sex or otherwise, enough to let my tabs slip. To NOT BOTHER keeping up with what anybody else was feeling.

Tonight I trusted Feo enough to just let her have all the responsibility for both of our pleasure. The resultant stores of attention that were freed in the process were mindbogglingly extensive. I used them all on myself. I used all my attention to find out what I liked. Then I just let her have it. I have never loved and trusted anyone enough to do this before. Feonix, you are amazing. I trust you to enjoy me. I trust you to find me attractive. I trust you to care about my pleasure. You have opened doors for me that are changing my life. Thank you.

What now?

The first step toward happiness is acceptance. The fist step toward acceptance is to know who you are. Not who you will be, not who you're working toward. Not who you someday might be, but who you are. If you can't see your own self clearly, bad teeth, pot belly, bald spot and all, well then, brother, your lost.

This doesn't mean you have to give up where you're going; what your striving for, who you hope to be. No, all of that is necessary. Without it, well, brother, your lost. What it does mean is that you can't hide behind where you're going anymore. The first step of acceptance is knowing yourself as you are. Knowing yourself as you are is the first step to taking a goddamn step down the path of who you want to be. These days when it's hard to find the courage to dream anymore, you have to find the courage to go past dreaming and take a goddamn step. If you smoke too much, if you drink too much, if you're too lazy: don't refuse to look there just because you're afraid you might make peace with it. Those who make peace with it rarely regret having done so. If you can make peace with it, fuck the road to happiness, just dwell in it.

If you can't make peace with it. Dwell in the discomfort of that lack of peace. Burn in it. If you don't move from there, something will burn up, I promise you. The something will be your resistance. You're resistance to what, I don't know. If it's your resistance to making peace, well then fuck yeah, just read the preceding paragraph again, huh? If it's your resistance to the effort well then, fuck yeah, it's about time isn't it? Want to be a professor? Get the fuck back in school. Want to design websites? Write books? Dreams don't write themselves. Too much work? Then go back to the question of peace with who you are. Those are the only two answers. Stop avoiding the question.