to truly ponder I returned to the start. I don’t want to relive it, so I just read the first blog.
It was me, screaming out, not wanting to turn back into my old self.
It’s funny because Sir refers to me when we first met as old me, in truth, he never knew old me. Old me I consider to be the miserable, vanilla, married workaholic. The me before I was accidentally launched back into kink.
Funny because I wrote my first post not wanting him back, never did I want him back. I wanted the me that I was with him back. I was afraid of waking up empty. It did happen a few times before and it scared me horribly to feel that cold and disconnected.
I was slowly slipping back into a pattern of self hatred, self abuse and neglect. I drank every night, eating less than 500 calories (alcohol included), working out 16 hours a week. I would pase the floors talking to myself, sometimes screaming and crying.
I had tried to build up the nerve to go back onto collarspace. I did for an hour that day, spoke to one man, then shut it down. I was scared, afraid only knowing how my ex had made me suffer.
Just 7 days later …. Bored to tears at work, I said screw it and tried again. The vanilla dating sites held no interest and I figured the worst that could happen is I block many creeps. Maybe have a few funny conversations with the hundreds of fakes and get through my work day a little more entertained.
That’s when we first spoke. It was unexpected and I had little intention of calling that night. I figured I’d chicken out or he’d have given me a fake number.
He told me to hold his hand and what’s even more amazing to me, through all of the changes, drama and sadness of this past year, he has not once let go of my hand.
So one year later, life’s no where near perfect, but I feel more and live more than I ever thought possible.