A choice of words...

I don't know why...I've been puzzling over this, but for some reason while I was chatting online with "Vixen" last night (Pete's friend), she pointed out "an interesting choice of words" that I used when describing Pete's enthusiasm towards me. I had said that I've never been 'so smothered before' by a guy.

When she mentioned this observation about the word "smothered," I told her that Pete used the word "devoured," and we debated which word was worse than the other. We didn't really come to a conclusion, they are both rather...violent.

Why then, is something good between two people described with violent words? Is it because we're both into BDSM? I would have to say that violence is NOT a part of BDSM at all though, so that really does not seem like a viable reason. I mean, sure, there's the whole aspect of breath-play which might be synonymous with "smothering" someone...and Pete loves to give oral, so perhaps that's why he chose "devouring" as his word. Who knows. Just a weird thing to contemplate. My brain works in weird ways.

I mean when you think about it, if you listen to any love song on the radio that has the word "love" in it, and substitute the word "fuck" in there, you'll be amazed at how violent the songs become. So, choosing one word over another can totally change the meaning of something. I was an English major in college, you know, so this type of thing is not something brand new I've never realized before...but when it comes to relationship stuff, I never really thought much about it because, well, I haven't had much experience in relationship stuff.

So to clarify: I am not sure why I used the word "smothered," about Pete, when I really just meant that I've never experienced so much attention from a guy before, so much constant contact, (which is what I've attempted with Peter but cannot completely achieve), and so much enthusiastic commitment and future planning together with someone...condensing this paragraph into one word, though, for some reason became the word "smothered."

Funny how, just a few months ago, I used to tell Peter to keep squeezing harder and harder until I either passed out or died, whenever he squeezed his fists around my neck. With him, I wanted to literally be smothered, just to end the misery I felt. Of course, he disagreed and denied my request for it, but isn't that an odd thing?

Having been a loner all my life, it's a very weird feeling to suddenly have somebody by my side, rooting for me, planning things with me, calling and emailing and instant messaging me all day every day, and otherwise deciding how my life will be. I mean, as a submissive, I am highly geeked about it...finally somebody is there to help relieve the burden of daily living...to help me make decisions...to give me a boost when I need it...to give me pep talks when I need it...to hug me or kiss me when I need it...and the thing I am realizing is that I do need all that, all the time, very much, and probably have needed it a lot longer than I ever realized before. So it's an uncomfortable feeling, a rather scarey feeling, because dear God if I ever get USED TO IT, will that be the moment that it all goes POOF and disappears? I don't DARE get used to it. Every time I get my hopes up about something, it just doesn't work out. I end up very disappointed and upset.

This relationship with Pete is bigger than any other relationship I've ever had before. I don't want it to go POOF. I am being told by everyone around me to "GO FOR IT," and jump in with both feet, and just experience and embrace the opportunity to be loved. I can take a leap of faith sometimes, but it has been a long while since I have had the guts to do it. As I grow older, it becomes more difficult to do. Pete is offering me things that I never imagined I could ever have. I don't know how to react to that. Should I just be gullible and go along with it and trust it...? Or would that be unrealistic pie-in-the-sky silly schoolgirl dreaming?

I feel almost like he's just some shady guy on a street corner in New York City trying to sell me a Rolex for $20 bucks...telling me how authentic it is, how long it will last, how shiny and new it is, and how lucky I should feel to own such a watch. God knows I want that gorgeous watch so damned bad I'm holding on to my cash in my fist, waiting and dying to hand it over, happily eager to toss in a tip even...but at the same time, I don't completely trust it and I wonder if it will fall apart the minute I put it on.

I truly think Pete's got good intentions, but then again, good intentions don't exactly go long-term do they. Not in my experience at least. They fade. The enthusiasm calms into a lukewarm complacency. The reality of embarking on a serious long-term committed relationship----which I do realize I've been pissing and moaning about wanting for YEARS---is presenting itself for the first time in my life, and frankly I feel like running and hiding...but I also feel like jumping in feet first.

The other thing I mentioned to "Vixen" during our chat last night, was that I didn't feel WORTHY of all this. I mean, that comes from too many years of never feeling like I was good enough. It's a rather difficult habit to break. I have a ton of self-esteem, don't misunderstand me...I just don't feel lucky enough to receive all this. I feel mostly like I'm a jinx and that I ruin everything I touch. I have bad luck.

Here's an example of what I mean----I didn't feel worthy enough to stand in the same room with Steve Perry when I met him twice in person either...in fact, when he walked into the room backstage after the concert, I swear on a BIBLE that I heard angels sing...but then I was terrified. I faded into the woodwork, cowering away from the crowd of screaming crazy women that surrounded him...I felt like I didn't belong there, I shouldn't be there breathing the same air as him...

Now, having worked at a very high-profile museum for 6 years, I have met many other celebrities and VIP's over the years...I've met Muhammad Ali, Gene Hackman, Jack Klugman, Connie Stevens, David Arquette, Fabio, and Steven Spielberg, not to mention dozens of other important people like Elie Wiesel. So it's not the fear of being around someone "famous," because they put their pants on one leg at a time just like me. I'm not impressed by that "famousness" stuff, it's all fake anyway. They are just people, imperfect as me, and they have jobs that everybody sees all the time. So the whole "Steve Perry is a famous singer/songwriter/celebrity" thing doesn't phase me. The fact that he's a real person, after years and years of being a flat, one-dimensional picture in a magazine or poster on my wall, DID freak me out. He's REAL. Just like those other celebrities I have met...but I didn't LOVE any of THEM.

At the same time, though, I wanted so much to just push my way through the crowd of women, punching and kicking my way through the gaggle of giggly bitches to hug him and grab hold of his long gorgeous hair and cry on his shoulder from relief of finally FINALLY being able to give him some love back for all the love I've received in his songs all these years. But I couldn't venture forth to do that, I was too scared. I thought he might reject me somehow. That would have crushed me beyond belief if he had. I was too afraid to go near him. I didn't know what the hell to say, or what the hell to do. I was paralyzed. There he was, in my face, sitting there smiling and laughing...the man I have loved since age 10...but instead of being one of those giggly gaggly silly women, I thought, "I need to leave this place, I can't be here, I don't belong here...I look horrible, my hair's a mess, my makeup is smeared, I probably smell bad, oh my god I can't be here looking like this, he'll totally think I'm a skank and won't want anything to do with me...I'm NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR HIM to even speak to."

So instead, I waited in line, trying to fix my makeup (though my hands shook uncontrollably so that didn't work very well), trying to fix my hair without a hairbrush...terrified but patiently waiting as other women cut in front of me...pushed me...crowded around me all giggly and spazzy and hyper...I felt like I was going to pass out, I was claustrophobic. I had to fight the urge to turn and run.

But after awhile it was finally my turn to face him...and that's when I said in a terrified little girl voice, "Is it ok if I give you a hug?" and he looked at me funny like, "WTF? Didn't you SEE all those other women mauling me? They didn't bother to ask." He just said, "Sure, but don't kiss me, I don't want to get sick while on tour." And I was stunned. I stood back, hesitating with a look of, "WTF?" and I said to him (my self-esteem poking through the terror I felt), "I didn't OFFER you a kiss." (Well, I didn't).

And then, after he gave me permission, I mustered up my courage and wrapped my arms around him and felt his hair and I wanted with all my heart and soul to drop to my knees and put my head in his lap. That was the FIRST TIME I ever felt the urge to do that to someone. But during this hug, which was probably 10 seconds or less, I just instantly knew that this man was very sad. He was very real, very imperfect and very human. He was very scared too. And I fell head over heels in love with him all over again. He no longer terrified me. He was someone who needed more hugs like that. So a few weeks later, when I met him the second time, I gave him another one.

........Right now, I am feeling all of these things for Pete. Exactly like I did when Peter came along in my life. I felt the same thing with him too. I feel so many things...excited, paralyzed, terrified, and happy all at the same time. With Peter, I was WAYYY more against the whole idea...WAYYY more negative about it...I pushed him away and gave him hell for 3.5 months before finally giving in.

With Pete, knowing he's able to give me much more than Peter, and actually WANTS TO, (which will always amaze me), I feel like jumping into the calming waters of love with him, to get cleansed in my soul once and for all, to accept and immerse myself in it for the first time in my life. But at the same time, I am afraid of being 'smothered,' of 'drowning' in it, of being 'devoured' and mostly of losing my SELF in it. After all, my SELF is all I've ever HAD in this world before Peter came along, and slowly over two years with him I have allowed him into my heart...now I am facing this same happy, arduous and scarey task again with Pete, only something tells me deep down that it's going to be much more intense, much more real and much more long-term, because he is much more AVAILABLE and willing and eager to give me those things than anyone else ever has before.

I've wanted and yearned and wished and begged God for years for this opportunity. Am I just being silly, faithless, and will I be punished somehow for pushing Pete away and too afraid to jump in? Or am I being realistic, and level-headed, by trying to process all the overwhelming emotions I feel all at one time, slowly inching towards it all, still feeling scared, but also nervous, terrified and cautious...?

"Vixen" says I should go for it, take love whenever it comes along because it is rare and it is the best thing in the world to have, even if it's short-lived, even if it's imperfect, because that's as close to heaven as anyone will ever get in this life. Peter says I should definitely consider moving to Pittsburgh to start my life over, as I've told him I've wanted to do for a long time. He tells me to forget about ever being rehired at the Museum again, stop beating a dead horse, move on and embark on a new adventure, because I now have someone who can help me do that. He did say, perhaps one month is not enough time to really KNOW if that's a right decision, but with or without Pete, I should definitely look into it and make plans for next spring to leave DC. I kinda felt sad as he was saying these things, like he was pushing me away, kicking me to the curb, and I thought to myself, "why don't you just buy me a damned plane ticket while you're at it, thanks a lot..." but I know he's just trying to guide me and give me a pep talk...despite his own urge to keep me here for himself...and that's not an easy thing for him to hide. I love Peter. That's going to be difficult for me to do, he's the first guy ever to come along and step up to be the Dom I needed, though limited. Then my other Dom-buddy Terry says yesterday that I should just shut the hell up about it and "go for it," and give Pete a chance to be the Dom he knows he can be, to give him the chance to prove to me that all men aren't bad, and let him be the Dom I NEED him to be...with no limits.

So far, it's 3 against 1. Something tells me I am going to go for it.

Love, Sassy Girl