Yesterday, I wrote about how I feel when M and I are together. When he leads and I follow. But, there have been times of miscommunication. When I have trouble turning off my brain, when we both have trouble communicating or expressing ourselves. It doesn’t happen often, but it happens. It happened last night.
He was being relentless, in the best possible way. I knew what he wanted, or I thought I did. I gave and gave and pushed. I gave until the tears came, but I stifled them. I gave past the point of wondering whether I should ask him to stop, past the point when I thought I couldn’t give anymore. I just gave.
Still, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give him what he wanted. I couldn’t make my brain comply, not at first. I wondered if he’d get tired, if he was disappointed at having to work so hard. I wondered if he’d feel like he was at fault if it didn’t happen. Then, it was pure surrender. Repetition of our word, begging myself to let go, willing myself to still and calm and concentrate and just GIVE, and GIVE. I let him have it all, whatever that meant. I surrendered and I gave, but still, it wasn’t enough.
He got me to the edge, again and again. Over and over and over, until I just stayed, on the highest, most blissfully torturous plateau I’ve ever been on, for much longer than I’ve ever been there. I couldn’t quite get over that edge and I felt like I disappointed him. Then I felt guilt, too. I felt guilt because I knew that I allowed myself to feel disappointment. I wanted so badly to come, not just because he wanted me to, but because I wanted to, and I didn’t. Or couldn’t, I don’t know. I didn’t want to feel those feelings – I didn’t want to feel like I wanted more from him. It felt selfish and horrible. I wasn’t prepared for those feelings. And, I didn’t even know he hadn’t intended to be finished, I just assumed.
My emotions were torn and my brain was spinning. My body was spent, yet, at the same time, it was wrapped and knotted tighter than it’d ever been. All I could do was turn inward.
‘Tell me what you want and I’ll do it. Tell me if I gave you what you wanted. Did I give you what you wanted? Was I good enough? I don’t think I can give you what you want. What if I can’t? What if I want more? What does that make me?’
And I cried. I couldn’t even control it, it just came. I sobbed, harder than I’ve ever sobbed. He asked me what was wrong, but I was so torn and confused I just said, “I don’t know, I don’t know.” He knows I always know something. I can articulate something, at least describe my thought process if I don’t quite know yet what I’m feeling. But, I couldn’t tell him anything. It was too big and full and overwhelming. I just sobbed. He didn’t understand what was happening and just wanted me to communicate, but I couldn’t just yet. I needed to untangle my thoughts. He got upset and felt like I was being defiant in some way. I asked him to hold me, but he did not – I’m sure he felt disrespected. And, I felt rejected. The biggest, harshest feeling of rejection I’ve ever felt. And, I felt like I failed him. Again. That sent me into a very, very painful, dark place.
I was in subspace, but it wasn’t a good space. It was a dark place where I wondered some pretty horrible things. My thoughts weren’t rational or logical. I was completely bare and exposed, totally raw and vulnerable. He was quiet.
‘Am I worth his effort? Have I not earned his affection and compassion? I give, all I have, all the time. I gave all of me just now – do I still not deserve his safety and warmth? Maybe he knows I wanted more – am I too much? Too needy? I’m being punished, am I being punished? Just stop, make it stop. Don’t make him feel bad. It doesn’t matter. This doesn’t matter, I don’t want it to matter. But, it matters. Who is he? Is this who he is? This person who doesn’t care how I feel, is this the real him? What if he isn’t capable of compassion in these times of need. What if he’ll never be that person? What if this happens again? I can’t do this again. This hurts, I hurt. It’s too big. What is he thinking? Feeling? It must be bad, because he doesn’t even want to be near me. It’s all my fault. It’s me.’
I curled in a ball on the bed, shivering. I tucked my arms underneath me and I felt the wet sheet under my face. And, I wondered if I shut my eyes, would it all just disappear? But, when I opened them again, it still hurt. And I was so alone.
We talked it through, as much as possible. It was so late and I was beyond emotional. It was so difficult to even talk and express myself, my head was so foggy. And I felt so goddamn alone. I just wanted him to touch me and tell me it would be okay. That it was just a miscommunication and we’d be okay. But, I knew his head was trying to untangle things, too. I know he thinks and needs time to process things. We did finally snuggle and drift off to a restless sleep.
I know he feels like he failed. I feel like I failed, too. I don’t know how to contain that emotion. I don’t know if I’m supposed to. Am I supposed to? I don’t want to make him feel defeated, like he’s not doing something right. I’m so proud of him, all the time. I know I can push myself, let him push me, but this was an accident. Neither of us were prepared.
This morning, we tiptoed around one another. We hugged and kissed and reminded one another how much we love, but it was rather quiet. He texted me not long after he left.
M: My heart hurts today.
Me: Mine, too. We will be okay.
M: We will be stronger.
Me: I know.