Time Heals

      Hi Party People…!  

      Don’t worry, I’m fine (well, sort of…I’m okay).  I know I’ve been neglecting the blog, but it’s been intentional.  I’ve been sorting through my feelings and trying to heal.  I just re-read February’s posts…God, the anguish and pain there is enough to make your hair turn white.  

     I feel a lot better, but frankly, I wish that was more complimentary.  I resent the fact that I still think about the Mathematician and what he did to me every day, and I wish that there was some way that I could evict him from my brain.  I resent that he takes up so much real estate in my mind and my heart.  

      I especially dislike that I still have such a diversity of memories and emotions for him.  It kills me that I fell in love with this lying scumbag.  It kills me.  

      It kills me that I still miss him sometimes, even though I don’t want him anymore. 

       It kills me that I sometimes still have really awesome, fun sex dreams about him.  I wake up from them and reality comes rushing back in and I become furious with the wretched perfidy of my own body.  I wish I could somehow pry his presence out me with a crowbar.  

       I try not to obsess, I really do, but on several occasions I have pored over our text message conversations and emails since, say, Thanksgiving…and the things that he said to me in order to foster my misconceptions really burn me up.  So much manipulation…

       I’m also bothered at the fact that I was laboring under the misconception that I was the partner in the relationship who had to prove to be trustworthy and righteous.  I thought that he was wholesome and innocent and sheltered.  I thought…I am poor and younger and not established, I have no property and almost no family, I need to prove to him that I’m a great emotional investment and not some flaky sex worker grifter! 

       Who turned out to be the grifter, hmmm…? 

        Not Miss Margo.  That’s for sure.

        To think that it never occurred to me that I was being manipulated and taken advantage of by an older man who is probably smarter than I am and who could have motives and a history far more sinister than I could ever imagine is unsettling.  Truly unsettling.  

         A few people I know, including my analyst, are inclined to give the Mathematician the benefit of the doubt–he really did fall in love with me, he got in too deep, he had no idea the relationship would go the way that it did, by the time he knew that he needed to tell me the truth it was too late, he fell in love with the fantasy, that he basically harbored no cruel intentions but he totally fucked it up.

       Unfortunately, I can’t believe that.  Too many red flags in our correspondence and what I found in his background.  If you could read the file in the safety deposit box, maybe it would be more clear…just take my word for it.  

      It’s a horrible feeling to know that you’ve been taken advantage of.  I think it’s one of the worst feelings in the world–right up there with being stolen from. 

                   *                         *                            *                     * 

       What else…?  I’ve been trying to stay busy.  I went to the Suspension fetish party on Sunday with a friend from the Studio and some others.  Suspension is, consistently, the best fetish event I’ve ever been to outside of the big annual balls in a few North American cities.  The venue is comfortable and upscale and the crowd is dressed to impress and authentically kinky.  Very few tourists or male doms in black jeans and fanny packs.  Thank God.  

      I don’t go to many parties, but when I do, I almost always go as a domme.  Single femsubs attract way too much sleazy, unwanted attention.  I’m not talking harmless flirtation here.  

     Because I was attending Suspension with some dominant female bodyguards, however, I thought it was safe to let the my freak flag fly.  
  
       I wanted to write more, but I’m at work and I’ve just been called away…if I can update later, I will.

     Don’t worry, the blog is not going away.  I just needed a breather to try to get my head on straight.  I’m feeling very inspired to write again recently.  


5 thoughts on “Time Heals”

  1. Dear Miss Margo, As I recall, you were very eager to prove you could have a relationship. I think that escalated the situation, causing you to go too far, too fast. I really do sympathize.
    Sincerely, mcauc

  2. Hi Mcauc!

    I dunno…I really think that I was careful with him. I knew the Mathematician since July and he was very persistent in seeing me for months while I basically ignored him because he was “just a client” and I was busy with the Surgeon.

    Started having sex with him just before Christmas, and even then I was very cautious about protecting myself emotionally. I wanted to cultivate it correctly and lay the groundwork for a potentially serious relationship…which I did, and I did it RIGHT for once, I might add. And I was constantly running the relationship and his behavior by friends and colleagues to get input.

    Late January was when I fell. And he was giving me constant feedback that it was okay and appropriate and the feelings were mutual. And I’m not just saying that because I’m bitter now–he was in constant contact.

    I am actually surprised that he pulled that off. We were spending one or two nights together per week, going out to dinner….like huge blocks of time, not 2-3 hours. ENTIRE DAYS. I wonder what the heck he was telling his wife? Honestly? I have friends who are married, and they pretty much know where the other person is all the time.

    Nope…I don’t think that I rushed it. I’d known him for a long time. I thought he was safe.

  3. Downlow: Please never feel intimidated to correspond with me…almost all of the posts on this blog are first drafts, and I seldom review them in order to tidy them up. Most of this stuff I write here is nowhere near scholarly prose meant for peer review.

    I do not “grade” or judge reader comments on the basis of the literacy…only on their intention.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.