Of all the impediments to kinky fun times, there is no other motherfucker like distance. The nature of our subculture, with its multiple get togethers at various locations both in the states and around the world, lends to connections formed with people who, regrettably, do not live near you. And no matter how much you care for someone, geography doesn't give a shit.
I just helped put one friend on a bus that will take him four hours away. Another is hopping on a plane tomorrow and traveling across the pond for a few weeks. A third is already there.
The intensity of the affection we all share heightens the connections we make. BDSM, at least in my life, is not for the casual dabbler. It is a part of who I am. And to find others with the same sentiment and love for this life is a gift I have no intent on returning.
But as much as I love it, it hurts. I want nothing more than to have all my friends near me, a stone's throw from my front door, or mere foot steps from my bedroom. But life does not wrap up so easily in a pretty red bow. You fall for people far away and you deal.
Every minute, every moment counts more for us. A kiss here, a scene there, for me at least, is greater than the average "date" I've had in vanilla settings. All of my kink seems imbued with a greater, denser energy. Every smile, every hug is precious, perhaps because we all know at any moment it could be gone.
I don't fear jail or prosecution. I fear twists of fate, life deciding to throw a carpet bomb on our happy little existance. I fear the drunk driver, the psycho ex, the hurtful parent. In short, I am not Superman and cannot protect the people I love from the unknown dangers that lie ahead.
Therefore, every second I am with you, I am with you, present, soaking in all of you that I can, knowing we will soon part once more. Our return to one another will be sweet with the fulfilled longing, but the patience of waiting is a bitter brew swallowed daily, tempered by texts, tweets, and telephone chats.
We all love; we all deal, even if it is a bitch.
The Immigrant "Invasion" Is Just WMDs All Over Again
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There is no immigrant invasion at the southern border of the United States.
That needs to be said at the outset any time you wanna talk about What's
Wron...
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