The abyss within

There is a huge abyss within each and every one of us human beings, that some of us have fallen into and barely made it out of. It's a huge, gaping wound surrounded by a graveyard of used and unsticky bandaids that never quite helped it to heal. I have been there, stuck in it for a long time, and trust me when I say, it's not pretty. I have lived every day for many years in this abyss. The power of it is difficult to fight against. Escaping it is nearly impossible, once it grabs hold. No amount of booze, Prozac or anti-depressant medication will make it go away either. It's always there, lurking in the shadows, threatening to ruin everything at any moment. It is like a sticky drowning suction of muck, a quagmire threatening to envelope you, to suffocate you and drown you...it's like a monster that lives in my guts, gnawing at me, poking at me when I'm having a good day. It's always looming in the background. It does not leave me alone. I might be surrounded by other people, having a fun time, laughing even---but it's still there. It still mocks me and leers at me, nodding and saying, "Sure, enjoy it right now, because soon it will end."

If you don't know what I am talking about, then you're lucky.

If you do, then I am sorry and I feel your pain.

Any little thing can push me over the edge, into this abyss. The longer you've lived in it, even if you manage to claw your way out of it, the fact remains that it becomes easier as time goes by, to fall back over the cliff again. It drains you of all hope, all faith, and all promise of a happy future. Restoring these things becomes more difficult as the years go by. You can try to outrun it, you can try to hide from it, drink it to death, take drugs to escape it, etc., but it's power reaches beyond any of those bandaid things we try to cover it with.

Inching my way out of it, to accept an hour or two of love from a married guy, is something that took me a long while to finally allow. Peter comes over, lavishes me with attention for a short time, and is then gone. I know that is never going to improve, it's never going to be anything more than it is, and for me, that is safe. Someone single who comes along, promising me the moon, telling me I'm the only one he wants, but then in the same breath tells me he is interested in polyamory and still wants to play with other women too, when he could and should make me #1 priority but doesn't WANT to, only sends me over the edge into the abyss again.

If I can't be #1 with a married guy, that's one thing. But if I am repeatedly told the same thing by a single guy too, well then all hope of ever being #1 to anybody EVER is pretty much null and void. I'm just not good enough apparently, to be that #1to anyone. God knows I wasn't good enough to keep Thom around three lousy weeks so he could meet me in person, he just up and killed himself instead. Not being good enough, to a submissive, is like death. So pardon me folks, because that is my big huge horror button, and when pushed, makes me wobble and weave and lose balance near the edge of this abyss of mine.

I'm good enough for Pete to spend a weekend with, to fuck and cuddle with and tell me over and over how much he loves me, but the fact of the matter is, the minute he's gone, there's another vanilla woman coming around to take it all away. In the four weeks I have known Pete, there have been 4 women in his life, two of whom he slept with in his bed. One of whom he loved before I came along. And now this new one, who MIGHT be submissive, he's not sure, (so that means she's vanilla), and who wants to play with him and have a threesome with him and me too.

I just start to think maybe I am really going to be #1 in his life, and just when I start to like the idea of it, BAM, suddenly I'm told that on the weekend I'm not around, he'll take her to the dungeon, and most likely it won't just end there because God knows if you take a vanilla to a dungeon and get her all riled up close to the edge of orgasm for several hours, she will need that release. So she's #4.

And that makes me #5. And so, here I go, sliding down, grasping at the dirt around me, trying not to fall too deep again, but unable to emotionally handle it---so for me, it's just easier to stop grabbing hold and preventing myself from falling, it's just easier to let go and freefall back down into it, telling everyone to leave me the hell alone and just let me go. Maybe that abyss is where I belong. Alone.

---Sassy Girl