Tuesday, April 4, 2017
Fool
So, here I am again...reaching and reaching, knowing everything is pulling away, slowly, but with ever more efficiency. And so I try not to reach too much, or too fast, or for too long, trying to grab the snippets of affection you still show, hoping, hoping, hoping that they will stir in you renewed desire for me, however small, believing that small things grow. I do not expect the immediate return of your desire, as I know there are still old hurts and ideas that must be purged from the system, and so I try to keep my own system clear... I try to appreciate that you ask after me, taking it as a small sign of care, concern. comfort, but my response earns no response, and I cannot say whether it is a matter of business, or avoidance. I am not asking for much, just encouraging words, and an encouraging heart. I am seeking my courage, my personal power, but I need a boost to help me feel empowered—you ask me still, to admire you, look here, smell there, and again, I take it as reason for hope, that for you to ask me to come closer and observe, and feel for myself the pleasure of knowing you, means that for that moment you want me near, are inviting me in to the sensual...but, then, when my responses to your questions are met with silence, I am drawn back into a position of doubt. And some times I think that because I am having trouble keeping myself entirely lifted through these ins and outs and ups and downs and overs and unders and backs and forths that we are experiencing, that because I do still get depressed, in spite of my best efforts, that because you're mood and receptivity do, in fact, impact me greatly, that somehow you see me as not doing what needs to be done. I do not believe that I deserve "full credit", because I know that in many ways I am still ignorant about myself, about how to find the me that's me, the me that's best for me, and best for us, even best for the world; but I know also that my position has shifted, and I know that, even though, on some days, I fail at doing more, I am doing more. I don't know how long it takes to learn discipline, to be disciplined...I think discipline is what I need, mostly from myself (but, yes, I do want discipline from others, as well, because, let's face it, spankings are fun—as your bumper sticker may soon attest!) but I don't think I could ever be severe about it... I think you know what I mean. But then, maybe that in itself is a problem...like, I'm asking for it, but not too rough, not too hard...just enough to get me there, but not enough to sap the pleasure out of it... I have been trying to infuse my will with the will, not just the desire, to change into what I always wanted to be: a woman with subtle secrets, a woman who is desired and has desires, a woman who is and has accomplished, a woman who feels the universe moving, a woman who sees the best in people and brings it out, a woman who is respected, a woman who is intelligent, a woman who is sexually satisfied, liberated, and free, a woman who is witty and charming, a woman who is fulfilled...and sometimes I worry that is too much to ask for, when it has not been given me as birthright, because I, who wished so desperately to change her station and position in this world, still secretly believe that I don't deserve to be all those things, because those who deserve have already received their blessings, and that whatever it would take to sculpt me into such a woman would be far too costly, well beyond my reach. Is it worth the dying to try..? Is it worth the living to not? There are so many examples of people, men and women from all lands, that have risen beyond their circumstances, and I hope to discover the skill to do so too. And so, while I understand that there is no way, no logical, practical, way, for us to be everything and all to each other, even as Romance still appeals to a naive little girl in me, I also truly need from you acceptance, moral support, and the same understanding you always asked from me (especially as it pertains to the argument that you are not my father, so too, I am not your mother)as I seek out what else will satisfy. (I look out the window, and see that googly eyes and branches that signify your presence, and remember that this time it is not so) Whatever I will be, I will be different, and I want, most of all, to come through all of this, all of the things that hold me away from myself, all of the things I am afraid of, all of the things I held for so long that did not serve me, with an ego sufficiently stroked, a mind enlivened, a heart empowered, and a body that moves with it all, no longer, uncertain, no longer afraid, no longer waiting to be, no longer a fool too afraid to take herself seriously.
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Confession
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