Saturday, March 18, 2017

Perfect

Journal January 2016

You see control.

You see someone in control.

So sure.

So gifted and so skilled.

And you think, 'yes, that is what I need!'

'This.

This!

This is someone respected with ages of experience. They will listen to me, and they will be perfect. They will understand me completely and fulfill everything I need from them.'

You see ESP.

You see absolute Empathy.

You see someone together.

You see someone who smiles, and says hello, and welcomes.

“You are new, how can I help you?”

“You are old, how can I help you?”

You, you come here with your life, your reality, your pain, your experiences, your happinesses, your sadnesses and your complaints.

“You don’t understand what it was like...” you say to me.

I hear you.

“Your suffering, no matter how big or small anyone else will ever make it, was the most horrible suffering ever experienced. And that is because it is yours. No one can ever understand what you have been through the way you will understand it.”

I say these words and you think, ‘someone gets it.’

I do.

You need so much.

But I am not.

I am not a god.

I am not the beginning of truth.

I am not your perfect dominant.

I am not your leader.

I am not the ruler of life, the universe.

I am not the judge, and the jury and the sentence, or the shunning.

I am not the solid edifice you see, smooth as marble, a single line.

I am the marble. Cold, un-yielding, and unsympathetic.

“Your pain is the worst pain ever, and that is true. The thing is, your's is not the only pain.”

I am not your perfect ear.

I am not your shoulder to cry on.

I am not the arbitrary judge between what is black and what is white.

The grey area floats to the surface and asks “whose side are you on?”

I am on my side.

I am not what you want me to be. Your perfect dominant. Your goddess.

I will not always always be there when you need me. I will not always send you messages when you need them. I will not give you care if you don’t ask for it but secretly want it. I won’t read your mind and your silent/judgmental, consent violation you won’t communicate to me. I won’t be the mirror dominant to your submissive.

I will not spend several hours on you-reflecting on your figure and creating a narrative of you,-figuring out your needs to mind read you. I’m not your stalker. I’m not your friend.

I’m barely even connected enough some days to know who I am to me.

But I am not...

Perfect.

Stop expecting it of me because I am dominant and you're submissive. Where is my safeword that communicates ‘make your own decisions!’?

I’m not your sage.

I am me.

I would say I’m sorry. But I am not sorry either.

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