"I know this is hard, and you can totally tell me to fuck off, but can you see an upside to this revelation?" - Doc
"Well, yes. I invested a lot of emotional energy their way, so now that I've accepted that the fantasy in my head won't happen, I can invest most of that emotional energy elsewhere. And maybe that'll lead to other things, other connections. But, I mean, really... you can find an upside to amputation." - me
I'm not in the best mood right now.
I had a good therapy session today in that what Doc and I talked about was important and big and a good guide post of where I need to go next. But it also sucked because I accepted a fact that, for quite a while, I didn't want to and have been doing my best to avoid.
A fantasy of a life I wanted to have got shot down in the kindest way possible.
Accepting reality, accepting that a dream I had will not be, is not an easy thing to do or an easy place to live. Yet that is one of the points of me going to Doc in the first place: growing emotionally as a person, being strong enough to face my life instead of creating some story that I live in instead of the cold hard real.
Doc thought my snarky comment was actually poignant. He likened how I was feeling to amputation, cutting out a part of myself in order to heal.
So now, with VD (my not-so-affectionate nickname for Valentine's Day) approaching, I'm having all these other craptastic emotions along with the new stew I brewed today.
Thinking back on my VD history, I have no positive memories that aren't marred in some way.
There was my Ex, who didn't believe in giving gifts and never would acknowledge me as his girlfriend or that we were in a relationship. One VD I wrote him little notes and planted them in his cigarettes and his pocket. He liked them, and said thank you, but that was it. We went along as we were after that; nothing really changed til I left, but that's how it was always going to be with him.
There was the one time in First Grade (when everything seems to start) when I wrote a VD card for a boy I liked named Noel. The girl sitting beside me saw the card, and then yelled my intention to the entire class like it was some huge horrible thing. I was trying to be sweet and she ruined it. No wonder I have trouble expressing my emotions, little cunt.
And now, with more of my VD's spent unpartnered rather than coupled, I have new knowledge crapping all over my mind.
I suspect things with OKC boy may not work out. From our interactions over the phone, it seems like we want different things. We're getting together on Friday, and I've already resigned myself to the fact that we may have a less than pleasant conversation (though this will probably happen after sex during hang out time).
Doc pointed out that this was good; in dealing with OKC boy I am solidifying what I want and need from a relationship. As in most things in life, it is a learning experience.
Also, as in most things in life, it is annoying and frustrating and kind of headache-making.
The one solace to my VD this year lies in a simple fact: during that day I will be distracted from morning til night.
VD falls on the Thursday before Winter Fire, and I am again on staff. This year, though, I am on the non-dungeon setup crew. No more music craziness. No crying fits in the bathroom. No stress induced anger. I will setup, have my event, break down, and go home.
I will make new memories, have new experiences to draw on, to remember, to cherish. I've already got eight playdates in the works (nine if you count my hope for a self suspension). There is an opportunity for me to read some of my erotica, catch up with far away friends, and spend time with ones close to home but who I do no see enough.
I love that, on this VD, I can really just say fuck it to all the shit that normally pisses me off. I will be a happy little kinkster helping other kinky folk have amazing sexy times. I can view no better way to spend my VD than doing that.
The Rude Pundit's Annual Nativity-palooza, Now with Bonus Cultural
Insensitivity
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Like movies about suicidal snowmen and tortured ghosts and pole-frozen
tongues, some things are a tradition around the rude house. Beloved reruns
are good ...
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