Tag Archive: emotion


C is for Casual

So, as those of you who know me may have noted, I don’t tend to play with random people. I at least like to have known you and conversed in person for a bit so that I get a feel for who you are. I really truly prefer long lasting partners, even for play. Past experience with random hook ups/play dates that started out as “let’s be regular play partners” compounded with a run of bad luck in secondary partners has left me feeling pretty used.

I tend to only open up to D or a couple of friends about it. So.. no random play partners is my rule for myself. My emotional and mental health is more important than my kink/sexual side being indulged then smacked back down. Right?

Plus, I think that my personal “definition” of play partners, secondaries, and lovers doesn’t match up with the… let’s say ‘commonly accepted’…definition of those labels. (But that’s a different blog post)

So, 99.8% of the time I stick to that rule. Twice in three years I’ve made an exception.

I’m writing today to share a story about one of the rare exceptions. Non-pertinent-to-the-story details and names are modified to protect the guilty. 😛 *cue dramatic music*

This past weekend I was working a kink event (most of you know which one). One of the gentlemen I needed to interact with (we’ll call him C), after mildly flirting/making eyes at me pretty much the entire first day, asked me to play the second night. I’ll admit I made him wait to have a longer conversation and get through negotiations before I would say yes or no. (I have a couple of medical issues that have to be brought up before any play) He bore up well under the strain of uncertainty; we reached an agreement, and headed off to play. 😉

And the squirrels in my brain started *FREAKING* out.  You’re gonna regret this tomorrow! But he’s sexy and can hold a conversation and has toys I want to try. Yeah, but he’s leaving tomorrow and so are you…for separate STATES. Well, yeah… but I knew that! I just want a nice fun scene with no strings. And did you see his eyes/hair/tattoo/goatee? Sure, sure, he’s hitting a lot of sex buttons and you know these things are fun, buut the next day…*singsong* little bunny Fufu hopping through the forest…  Seriously?! Did my brain squirrel just squirrel? That’s the line! Everyone shut the FUCK UP. We’re doing this.

At this point, C and I had picked a spot and I’m stripping while he sets up.

“Do you want the boots on or off?”

“Keep them on, they’re sexy. Kneel up here, can you lean forward? Good.”

Oh, God. Here we go.

Flogging my ass. Ooh, I like. C checks in, I’m still good.

Fingernails up and down my back. Yesss.

Paddling. So hot but I don’t want to cry yet. Harder. I raise up.

C checks in: “Do you want me to continue?” Words are HARD. I nod yes. “Good girl.”

More paddling, other toys… is that something pointy? YAY!

C checks in… fuck, he’s getting into it now, look at him. All breathing hard and vibrating energy. Damn.

Biting. My ass. My shoulders. My neck. Holy Fuck, yes. Wait, did I say that out loud?

Fingering my pussy. Two fingers. More. Wait, is he fisting me? Oh. My.. Yes!

Orgasm.

C: “Do you want me to keep going?”

Me: “Are you enjoying?”

C: “I love it.”

Fisting deeper.  Orgasm.  Again. “That’s it. Cum again for me.”

Deeper again. I moan and cry and cum until it hurts.

He stops as soon as I ask. Damn, that’s hot too. He tells me to push out his hand.

Kisses and hair pulling and nibbles until I’m steady enough to turn to my back.

Electric..on my thighs, nipples, clit. Sliding the bulb into my pussy. Then me as the electrode and metal rods, floggers, etc.

Then, knives. Oh, fuck. I’m going to cum again.

I shriek and twitch and cum. I have to yellow to not fall off the freaking bench.

Paddling to the thighs. Fingering to orgasm. Paddling the nipples. That fucking hurts. Yay!

We wind down. Both of us admit sex would be awesome, but not happening. Cuddling against the wall. Talking.

Fingering til I cum. More talking and nibbling and making out. And talking. The next time I look up, I realize we’ve sat and talked through the scene after us.

That’s fucking sexy. Dammit.

C walks me back to my room and kisses me goodbye for the evening. And a gentleman.

The rest of the night I keep getting asked why I’m grinning so much.

The next day we both are rushing around packing up but make time to check in. C makes me promise to get in touch again on Fet. We go our separate ways.

And I’m good. Have a bit of drop, but that’s expected after a big event. No extra repercussions from playing casually. The squirrels are behaving. Quiet.

I think it’s time to start sharing myself a little bit more often. Again.

2013 is going to be a banner year! Because I say so, that’s why. *grins* I’m going to be listing somethings here for reference and accountability(to myself). Let’s start with my resolutions…

1. Blog more! I only posted 3 times last year! That makes me super sad… I’d love to say post weekly, but I’m going to aim for twice a month, with more being better. Plus, I’d like to get more views, followers and countries tuning in.. It’s currently at 2 followers(something between facebook and wordpress lost me 13 followers?), 930 individual views, and 41 countries! The US, the UK, and Brazil are the front runners.

2. Get a new job. One I like. One that’s fulfilling. I am so so tired of being mindnumb and out of work at work!

3. Push boundaries and enrich myself. With D, in our D/s, kink and family. With O(you’ll meet him later!) I want to be unafraid of exploring fully. With P, M, H, T… renewing friendship or expanding on the same. Go to more classes, participate in the groups I’m already a member of, find new/old joy in crafting, art, love! I’m so hopeful right now.

4. Find ways to make the new house our home! We’re finally out of the small town and closer to friends. I want to be sure that the kids, D and I explore all the ‘new’ things that we are able to do and experience now!

5. Enjoy my life. There’s been so much stress, change(good and bad), and upheaval in the last year… I want to be more mindful of what I have, who I am, who I love, and giving all of my relationships with friends, family, loves… the best I have in me.

Boy, that was sappy and joyful… I’m going to have to hand in my ‘I’m a Tough Bitch’ card.

Joy & Change

I’m combining these for the moment… So many good changes for me this past fall. We moved out of the small town to the city. We both have exciting, new(well, newer for me, D’s have been longer) and(crosses fingers) what look like very very solid new relationships with… dare I say it, long term potential! EEEEE! Yes, that was a girlish squeal! Mark. The. Calendars.

So, I suppose it’s time to introduce O to the narrative? I don’t know, sometimes I like to imagine the suffering you all go thru when I don’t update you (yeah, right!). Well, let’s see… It’s been just under two years since I’ve dated anyone. D has me and newer (less than a year?) relationships with P and M. Love both the girls, they are great fun and confidantes of mine in their own ways, as well as loves for D.

M is married to L, they have both been my friends for years, the kids all get along well and L has often escorted me to events when D was unavailable, though we don’t scene or date each other. 

P is married to O. He’s intrigued me in a quiet way for a bit now. Like, ‘Hmm. Who’s this? Oh, yeah, that guy. The one with that weirdly intriguing energy, big smile and wild look in ‘is eye. I should try to get to know him.” Then something would happen, or I’d remember how crappily my last relationship went, and I wouldn’t.

Then D started seeing P… and slowly we all started spending time together off and on. And…”Yeah, he’s damn fucking intriguing. Awesome conversation about blood and death and how alike we think on these things over here. Damn we’re weird… awesome.” And things would happen, like moving and getting the kids adjusted to the new house/school/schedule.

And that finally all slowed down, and I lost patience with myself and pushed for dating.. with minor bumps, now we are… and he’s surprising. This relationship is surprising. I am feeling NRE, but it’s without the level of ‘frantic’ I usually feel. I’m fighting with myself to not just open up the majority of my shields to him and enjoy. And I’m wondering why I’m fighting it. And there’s a deep and quiet joy within me. Plus, he likes hanging out as a group or with the kids(combined) and that’s important! I’m trying to not get ahead of myself, but I’m so very hopeful and pleased. And once I ask how he feels about my discussing our sexual escapades here, I may get to share… If not, let me just say damn. Seriously.

Change. Everyday I am so thankful and happy and immersed in my relationship with D. If I was in the sappy mood, hey it happens from time to time, there might be mention of soulmates and girly shit like that. 😉 He is so very, very good for me and I hope I am as good or better for him. If I was in a proud mood, I wouldn’t even question it. I am.

But our relationship is changing, deepening, we’re into our third year together and creating our home and family to a deeper extent than before… and our D/s and kink and reevaluating where we want to take them. Plus changes in his work, hopefully mine soon as well and maybe, looking at some edumacation opportunities at the end of this year? I don’t know, and definitely want that at some point… but let’s stick to creating our home, deepening our family, our love, and expanding all of those things as well. And exploring the new!

I don’t normally do this…

I don’t generally repost other people’s blog posts as a whole or engage in any feminist debate. I think this speaks for itself. Direct link below and the text of the post.

And then I debated whether or not to put it on Tumblr…but I decided it was important.  Because in my own way, I can (unfortunately) point out exactly what is wrong with men when they don’t realize how hard it is to be a woman.  How we do not have equal opportunities and freedoms in everyday life.  How most men, even good caring men, have no clue what we go through on a daily basis just trying to live our lives.

So here goes.

I often ride the Metro when I commute from North Hollywood to Long Beach in order to save money.  I bring a book, pointedly wear a ring on my ring finger to imply I’m married (I’m not) and keep to myself.

Without fail, I am aggressively approached by men on at least half of these commutes.  The most common approach is to walk up to where I am sitting with body language that practically screams LEAVE ME ALONE and sit down next to me or as close to me as possible, when the train is not crowded and there are many empty rows.  Sometimes an overly friendly arm is draped over the railing behind me, or they attempt to lean in close to talk to me as if we are old friends.  Without fail, the man or boy in question will lean to close and ask me

What are you reading?

Is that a good book?

What’s that book about?


This serves the double purpose of getting my attention and trapping me in a conversation.  If I stop reading the book I enjoy to talk to you, random stranger, you hit on me or just stay way too close to me.  If I tell you to leave me alone, you get mad at me.  Because I somehow, as a woman, owe you conversation.

Tonight when I boarded the train in Long Beach at 10:30pm, it started up right away.  I was not on the train more than three minutes before three boys who looked eighteen sat in the row behind me and leaned over the seats into my personal space, close enough to breathe on me.  The one with his arm draped over onto the back of my seat asked me—surprise— “what are you reading?”  I went through my usual routine.  I told them loudly and firmly that I wanted to be left alone to read my book.  They got angry.  I was told “Why are you going to be like that?  I just wanted to talk!”  His friends start laughing at me and they don’t move, telling me come on! and why are you gonna be like that? until I tell them to leave me the fuck alone, stand up, and move to the front of the car near the three other people on the train, a couple and a business man in a suit.  They spend the next two stops shouting at me from the back of the car, alternating between trying to sound flirtatious and making fun of me, shouting “I bet she’s reading Stephanie Meyer!  I bet she’s reading Twilight or some shit!  You reading Twilight or some shit?”

They exit the train at the next stop, and I’m relieved.  The train is going out of service at the next station, so we all exit to board a new train to Los Angeles.  As we board, the business man steps aside to let me go through the door first and asks me if those guys were bothering me.  I say yes, that it happens all the time, and he tells he’ll beat them up for me if they come back.  He is a nice person who talks to me like I’m a human being instead of a walking pair of tits, and I make a mental note:  This is how a real man talks to a woman on a train.

The business man and the couple exit our new Blue Line train an exit or so later, and I think my night is ending on a good note.  A seemingly normal man enters the train with his bicycle.  At this point I am three rows from the front of the car, another man was sitting near the back of the car, and the rest of the car is empty.  Bicycle Man walks halfway down the row, and settles into the seat directly opposite me.  Perfect, I think.  Twice in one night.

It’s not the first time I’ve been bothered multiple times.  As such, I’m still amped from the teenagers on the first train.  So when this man leans across the aisle into my personal space and asks me, yes, what are you reading, I assertively but calmly tell him to please leave me alone, I am reading.  The man stands up, moving to the front and muttering angrily over his shoulder that it isn’t his fault I’m pretty.

Yes.  Exactly that.  I am the bad person in this situation because somehow this is all my fault.  I started this by being attractive.  I am making a mental note to bitch about this to my friends later.  I go so far as to write it down so I know I’m remembering it properly.

It is at this exact moment I realize Bicycle Man is not taking it well.  The seemingly annoying but normal man a moment before is now talking to himself, becoming agitated.  In my years of being bothered by total strangers, I have learned how to hold a book and seem to be reading while taking in everything around me.  He is glaring at me, and says out loud in an angry baby talk voice “PLEASELEAVEMEALONEI’MREADING.  PLEASE LEAVE ME ALOOOONE.”

Then he’s up out of his seat and things go from bad to worse.  He begins pacing back and forth in front of his bike, alternating between screaming something about his mother being dead and calling me a slut, a hoe, a bitch.  I am frozen in place.  There is one other person in the car, and I’m not sure if trying to change seats will draw more attention to me or less. I trust my instincts and show no fear, doing my best to appear to be calmly reading my book, never once looking up to acknowledge the abuse he’s hurling at me.  There are four stops left until we reach the main downtown station where there are lights and security officers.  Those four stops are virtually abandoned, and I have no guarantee that leaving to wait for another train won’t motivate him to leave the train as well, leaving us potentially alone at a metro station platform just outside of Compton.  I’m frozen in place, trying to plan what I’m going to do if he decides to take all this rage directly to me.  I’m ready to kick him, scream, make enough noise that he panics and flees.

At this point he’s punching the walls and doors of the train, screaming at me.  He stares me full in the face and screams

SUCK MY DICK, BITCH

YOU BITCH

YOU STUPID BITCH

YOU GODDAMN HO

IF I HAD A GUN I’D SHOOT YOU

I WOULD FUCKING KILL YOU BITCH

This went on for two stops.  No one came to see what was happening.  The man in the last row was as frozen as I was.  I’m not angry he didn’t come to my defense.  He was smaller, older, and frailer-looking than I was.  Again, I was worried if I got up, I would be turning my back on him to walk down the aisle.  In the state he was in, I had no guarantee it wouldn’t get physical, and I had more physical strength with my back to the window and feet in kicking position where I was.  If he had chosen to assault me, I would only be making it easier for him by standing up and putting myself directly in his path.  On and on, over and over, he screamed at me, screamed at his dead mother, screamed at me again.

The moment we reached the downtown station, I was out the door and down the stairs.  I still had to catch a connecting train to North Hollywood, and made sure there was no sign of Bicycle Man before I entered the car.  That’s when I finally starting shaking, and almost threw up.  By the time I exited the Red Line and reached my car I could barely breathe and my heart was pounding out of my chest.  Even now, in my own home, my hands are still shaking and for some reason the stress has made my back muscles feel cold and numb.  From all the tension, I can only assume.  I can’t eat anything, I still feel like I’m going to vomit, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t cried so much, so hard I still have the headache.

So when people (men) want to talk about “legitimate” forms of assault, tell girls they should be nice to strangers and give men the benefit of a doubt, tell them to consider it a compliment, tell them to ignore the bad behavior of men, I want them to be forced to feel, for even one minute, what it feels like to have so much verbal hatred and physical intimidation thrown at them for nothing more than being female and not wanting to share.

I just wanted to read my book.

It’s not my fault I’m pretty.

Snarfle the Garflack, love.

It’s an inside joke. And, yes, I know it’s ‘narfle the Garthok’; whatever, it’s my joke, shut up.

Hopefully I’m able to explain it properly here. It’s the phrase I use to encourage D. Usually toward something that he’s not sure he’s ready to do or isn’t sure he has the ability to do; but keeps saying he wants. And at the risk of sounding sexist; he’s a guy, it usually involves emotions. Garflack is what ever ‘big scary thing’ thing is going on… and usually isn’t such a big scary thing in the end.

It’s come up a bit lately. He’s exploring his poly, more than he has before and it’s raising new feelings, issues, and worries. It’s interesting to be supporting him through it. I’m glad I am and I love seeing him grow and become. You know what I mean?

I’m sort of discovering that I’m really protective of him too. Not to the point of weirdness, but that I’m pretty fucking blunt when I see others in his life pulling shit.  He, of course, gets to make his own choices about what he is doing and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Through out the course of his exploration, we’ve discovered so many new things about us. Individually. As a couple. Our power exchange/Ds.

We’ve discovered we have very minimal rules for each other, though they are important ones. Practice safe sex. Don’t do anything that will harm us. Act, speak and live with honesty, integrity and honor.  That one’s a doozy, but so important. Keep each other informed. And finding where those rules expand or contract depending on the situation.

And there are moments where I have to say it to myself. Facing my attachment to an ex and how it was affecting my emotions still… so difficult. Snarfle the Garflack. Finding out what it really is I am afraid of in opening myself up to ‘new’ people. Snarfle! The unexpected ones, like discovering that I mostly have acquaintances in the community, where I thought I had friends. That was a hard one.

I always try to make sure I’m using it well and saying it from a place of encouragement and love. He is my Sir and my love as well as my partner and I have to make sure I’m respecting all the aspects of our relationship when offering a push.  But I know he appreciates my support, my encouragement and my love.

We have an event coming up in June that we are both looking forward to… we’re on staff this year and with all these new discoveries about each other and ‘us’, we’re looking forward to exploring our boundaries in such an open, loving, energy rich place.  Hopefully our experiences this year will be as good as last, or better!

Hopefully, I’ll be hurting some boys. I am going to snarfle the fuck out of THAT Garflack, as soon as I can.

Of course, sometimes, ‘Snarfle the Garflack’ is code for: ‘Here, take these condoms and go fuck her already. Sheesh.’

I’m serious AND silly. 😛                                     Ooh, now I want to hear ‘Tainted Love’….

This past weekend…held a lot of fun and disappointment. Let’s start with the fun…

Friday afternoon I headed off to a large local event. I took off work early, gathered up my bags, settled the kids with the sitters(thank you!) and hit rush hour traffic. *grins* I always think that is a fair price to pay for the fun I’m about to have. I haven’t been able to go out too much lately and was über excited for the weekend. I had a couple of scenes planned as a top, was healthy for the first weekend in 6 weeks, and would get to spend extra time with D…fantastic right?

Well, yes. And no. Let’s go semi-chronological here:

Arrived at the hotel excited. Waving at a friend I recognized and hurrying to the front door. Tripped on NOTHING and fell flat in front of about 6 people, one of whom is a smoking hot presenter that I have a ridiculous I-feel-like-a-bumbly-teenager crush on. Mortifying much? *laughs* Ah well, such is life with my natural talent for klutz. Knees are a bit tender now.

Check in and head to unload the car. I run into a local friend who wants to gossip about some drama in the community that includes an ex of mine. Disappointment. I’m going to address a mini rant to that at the end of the post. And to save me having to type it up over and over, I’m going to put Φ every time someone brought the drama up to me. I made one trip from the car to the room and realize… I’m super exhausted and maybe not as over my bronchitis as I thought. wheeze Only two trips to go! On the second trip I ran into some friends and thank Bob*, they were kind enough to help me bring the rest of my gear up. And then I took a break… damn I was tired. Knees are achingly tired!

Unpacking and showering and coordinating with D when he’d be arriving and oh, fuck I’m late to the DM orientation. Dashed downstairs and caught the majority of it, while holding my corset strings tight. Immediately needed to find someone to tighten me up since I still haven’t mastered tightening my own corset while it’s on my body. So happens, the ex I mentioned above is the first person I see who I know can tighten a corset properly. Sweet! Chit chatted while he was tightening, about everyday stuff. Yay, I’m done, thanks. How are you? Φ Oh, community folks are being judgmental and gossipy? No, I’m not surprised. I’m disappointed. See the rant. Knees are a-ok.

Found D and we visited for a bit catching up on our day and going over our plans for the weekend. Chatted with random folk, friends, etc. Found the first gentleman, Dante, I had a topping scene with and discussed basic ideas of what we were planning. I held my cards pretty close, since I immensely enjoy ‘surprising’ bottoms with my choice of play. We arranged a time for our electric scene and went off to opening remarks. Φ Shortly afterwards I ran into a coy lady that I enjoy poking. She makes pretty noises and says I’m evil. I poked, prodded, pulled hair, pinched, pressure pointed, and kneed her. Amongst other bits of things. She squealed quite nicely. Right knee might be bruised…

After a smoke or three, conversations with D and friends Φ, and an outfit change; it was time to find Dante and have our scene. Found him and had a brief chat in the hall again about expectations/limits/wants/etc. Ok, wow, I’m really more exhausted than I thought… breathe… Check and make sure he’s aware of the tired and ok to continue. Awesome.

We find a spot and he takes my boots off. yay

And rubs my feet. Ooh, very nice

And sucks my toes. I like that way more than I thought I would.. am I developing a foot fetish?

OK. Now strip. Our scene has changed.  internal snickering

I order him to lay back on the bench after some kisses and nibbling. Biting. Scratching. Clips. Nipple torture. Rubber hose. I straddle the bench and cradle him to me while he comes down. Oh, we’re not done yet, my boy.

More biting, scratching, kisses, nipple play, clips. I cradle him again but this time continue biting and scratching. I reach around and play with his piercing, smack his balls. I like his moans. Oh, you like that more than you want to let on, hmm?

I stand in front of him and contemplate for a moment. Clothespins. Tracing wheel. Fishing bells. Yes.

He holds my string of clothespins while I place them one at a time on his balls. They look pretty and he reacts but not loudly enough to suit me. Fine

Running the wheel across his cock brings louder noises and concerned eyes from him. smiles

Don’t worry, it didn’t break skin. He sighs. Clothespins come off and it’s time for the final peak. I place the fishing bells; one on each ball. They dangle down and jingle as I smack his shaft. grins

I kneel down and pressure point his feet. Dancing bells and screaming. Delicious

And cradling him again as we wind down. Stroking his chest, I realize it’s been way too long since I’ve had a bottom of my own. Something to contemplate. Final strokes, kisses, and cleanup and we smile and part ways. So much fun

I step outside and visit with folks Φ, smoke, find D. I have a bit of an energy boost from the scene, hooray! Talk about the scene and what he’s been up to while I was busy. Grab a few snacks, out to smoke again and exhaustion comes home to roost. Oy. We decide to head off to bed. My knees are aching.

Morning. Slowly wake up. Bob*, I’m tired. There weren’t any classes in the morning that we particularly wanted to catch, so we took our time waking and talking and headed out to breakfast. My left knee is hating the stairs! A cute little French bakery/bistro. Coffee, quiche, bacon, fruit. MMmm. Feeling a bit better. Heading back to the hotel, I decide I want a nap. Yup, I’ve been awake all of three hours and need a nap. I’m limping! Left knee still hates the stairs!

Napping. D futzes on the computer until it’s time for our first class. Good info, but more basic than we expected from the class description. Head over to the second class. Great info, fantastic subject, amusing presenter…and something I can’t ever do for physical reasons. sadface Visit folks for a few, we both poke at the bruises I left on my coy lady friend, and head upstairs to change for dinner. Stairs! Knee! Argh!

Dinner out just the two of us… it’s been too long since we could do that. Just sinking into the moment with him. So, so wonderful and it eases a bit of longing for him inside of me. Leisurely head back to the hotel. Damn, I’m limping again! And suddenly, like it was just waiting for me to relax a bit… my knee is driving me practically to tears. Back at the hotel and upstairs for an outfit change. We discuss the knee and decide I should take it easy. Then we have vigorous sexy times. Shower and the cold tiles make me cry. Man, I’m exhausted and hurting.

Limping about downstairs for a bit, visiting, outside to smoke, sitting down to rest the knee. D finally convinces me to head off to bed after a good friend hands over some meds. Brief talk with a hypno aficionado and a few friends Φ while D helps out with a scene, then a last smoke and bed. So, I missed my second topping scene. And, yes, that’s right by 9:30 on a Sat night at a big event, I was in bed, drugged up. D took my DM shift and checked up on me various times. I woke up once about 1?  when he came back to the room and decided I needed a smoke. So down we went and apparently I was hysterical. shrugs I don’t recall exactly what I said. I think there was flirting with the security guard.

Sunday, we both woke up late and were slow-moving. By the time we got down stairs most of the event gear was packed up, so we said goodbyes Φ and visited with each other again for a few before he had to head off to work.

So. I fell down in an embarrassing fashion, bashed up my knee(though it seems fine now?), missed a scene as a top and a flying scene and multiple people kept bringing up drama. Negatives

I also had a wonderful scene with Dante, lots of one on one time with D, great sex, a fantastic visit with several folks, lots of sleep, and overall? I came away happy. Positives

*Fyi: Bob is my generic swear for whichever ‘god/God’ you wanna put in there.

All in all, it was a great weekend except for the multiple reminders of drama.

                                                                                                                                                                                         

SO, now it’s time for my Φ rant. I’m not even sure it’s going to qualify, because I’m not ‘angry’. I’m severely disappointed.

A couple of weeks ago I found out that an ex had broken some promises while we were dating. Now, it doesn’t really affect me in a deep emotional way too much today because he and I aren’t dating anymore and it’s been awhile, plus it really helped fill in the blanks for some unanswered questions I had. So I’m not crying or angry like I would have been had I found out when it was happening. I am, however, disappointed.

Disappointed that he wasn’t the one to tell me. That the person who did, contributed to his deceptions and hasn’t really accepted their responsibility in it. That they keep trying to blow it off like they had little to no choice. That he still hasn’t apologized. That things I didn’t know about contributed to our break up and I’m sure he’s still convinced that his deceptions had nothing to do with it. That he’d betray my trust and the trust of his other loves in that way. That because of those broken promises, he and I were pretty much doomed before we started. But those things are personal and not something I want to delve into with everyone, thanks. Back off.

You know who I am really, really disappointed in? Our community. Oh, my Bob! Seriously people? The gloating, malicious, ranting from people this whole situation doesn’t even concern!

And you all seem to either a) forget or b) don’t care that you’re asking one of the betrayed people all these questions and putting someone down that, broken promises or no, I still care about. Did it cross your mind at all to empathize or say ‘i’m sorry this happened to you’? Nope. You’re all too busy crowing about ‘how awful’ and ‘how could he’ and ‘isn’t it horrible’ to think about WHO you are saying all these things to.

You know what? He broke promises to me too!

And since when were people supposed to be perfect?

Do I approve of what he did? No, of course not.

Do I think he made a wise choice? No, of course not.

But you know what? He’s a human being. We all make mistakes. Grow up, mind your own, and stop expecting perfection. He’ll either sort this out or not and that’s his life. Go have your own life and remember that you certainly aren’t perfect either.