Dead horse

I used to write witty journals and he’d comment. He’d write a journal. I’d comment. We had a bit of a fan club. We both were bewildered by this. We also enjoyed the attention our relationship got. Mostly we wrote to process our relationship in black and white. 

I miss the back and forth. I miss logging on to read the things that tumbled out of his head. I miss sending him a picture and hoping he’d post it with a clever caption. 

I miss the long rambling conversation we’d have after a journal or picture was posted. We’d talk for hours. We’d argue and agree. We would ask for clarification and challenge each other. I miss waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of his keyboard. 

I want to call him and talk for hours like we used to. I can’t do that because one girlfriend or the other is always there. And I don’t warrant hours of his time anymore. He offered to call me last night but I was dealing with a family crisis. I wanted to see him the other day but he wasn’t able to stop by. That’s the way it’s gone for a while now. 
Am I beating a dead horse? 
Am I dead weight?
I miss him. I miss us. He said that because I didn’t clarify that I wanted to be with him meant that I wasn’t with him. But he stayed at my house, in my bed, and had control. So when he took first one, then two girls I was screaming “what about me?” And he said “We broke up, remember?” 

But what about everything that happened after we broke up? I verbally stated that I didn’t want to be his sub, all the while being his sub. Everyone in the community assumed we were together. It was unfair how everything just tumbled out of place. 
More than the journals and fun and spankings, I just miss him. I miss our two am phone calls. I miss the little details of his day. I miss his voice. His life is so full, he’s not told me he misses me. It’s not the same as a response as it is when he says it first.  He hasn’t said it first. It makes me feel insignificant to know I’m not missed. I fear that I will fade into the background until I become his ex girlfriend that he hasn’t talked to in ages. 

I wish I could forget my insecurities and jealousy and jump in the deep end of poly with him. 

Because I desperately miss my Sir. I miss my Daddy. I miss Chad. 


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