I wasn’t looking when I happened upon your couch after one too many sips of wine. There you were, charming and charismatic. “I like you. You are welcome back any time” slowly, ever so carefully evolved into “I can’t wait to see you.” I don’t trust easily but I’ll admit this attention was intoxicating.
I knew your wife from afar and our relationship was superficial. I was intimidated by her. Looking back, that sounds silly. But eventually bonds grew. I spoke with my sister about being cautious about this particular entanglement. She warned me. I should have listened.
I stepped lightly attempting to deal with everyone. Navigating dynamics that aren’t mine with no clear rules to follow was mentally draining. But I felt like the extra things were worth it. There was this beautiful picture of a kinky family I was being welcomed into. We played with fire and staples, whips and cages. I felt accepted. Getting to know you as a person was lovely and unexpected. Intimate, quiet moments on the couch listening to you, exploring a thrift store for treasures. I honestly thought you cared about me as a person, not as just something to hit.
I remember you bringing me into your bedroom and closing the door, setting me on the bed and having the serious discussion of what this meant to you and I. Deciding how we would define this and each other. I felt seen and protected.
But I wasn’t. I got comfortable, too comfortable. Week after week, month after month, you pulled and pushed. I don’t think you’ll ever understand what it took for me to feel safe.
Getting yelled at for something that wasn’t my fault by your wife was an eye opener though. I started to see cracks in your marriage, cracks in her dynamics and when I really looked at her and saw her, I knew our relationship wouldn’t last.
Everyone knows. Her secrets aren’t as hidden as you think.
This beautiful kinky family was actually a tangled web of toxicity.
Looking back I started pulling away when you spoke so callously about my breast. It was spoken so flippantly that I was shocked. But hearing inner thoughts about my breasts or lack there of tumble out of your mouth was heartbreaking. I tried very hard to see you as human and flawed and I don’t think you realize what it took for me to come back to your house after that.
I saw you in March. Playing in cages and bringing you a glass of wine was wonderful. I knew this wouldn’t last but I was surprised at how swiftly things would change after March. I still don’t have a reason. Only a timeline.
We would go days without talking. I’d tell you that I missed coming over. I missed direction and cages. There was never any effort to compromise. There was never a suggestion to meet at the park. 6 feet apart. Eventually it felt like I texted you and was a burden, an afterthought.
In May you surprised me by initiating a conversation about directives. But the directives were all sex based because you were horny and nothing ever materialized. I felt used.
There was never a conversation about how to handle our relationship during COVID-19. I just wasn’t allowed to come over and nothing was adjusted.
Then you had a yard sale. Strangers were within arms length of you and yet, you wouldn’t let me come over. I sent an angry text.
I assumed we’d argue and come to a resolution but instead there was nothing. Almost a month until I said Happy Father’s Day. Then another month. “You okay?” An occasional text from me checking in.
Then out of the blue I see you are selling your toys.
There’s been no conversations, no discussions. I messaged asking about your post to sell your toys and that’s when you inform me you are getting out of the lifestyle.
Just like that.
A few more texts of me checking in and your responding. A picture here and there. But never you checking on me.
I said “I really wish things were different, ya know?”
You said “I know. Me, too”
No suggestion for coffee, no follow up question asking if I’m okay.
I’m certain you have a different perspective, a different story to tell of an excited kitten wanting staples and whips.
But I don’t play with just anyone. It’s takes a lot for me to let down walls and be vulnerable.
Now? I feel abandoned. Discarded.
I thought I was valuable enough to at the very least have a conversation with. Like you did before when you were eager to spank my ass.
The damage in your and your wife’s wake is breathtaking, impressive even. I should have known better. I chose wrong.
But I don’t regret any of it. It’s taught me a lesson and reaffirmed that I can trust myself.
I’m healing now.
I hope after this purge of anger, that I can look at you and your wife as a season in my life.
And I can’t wait for Spring.