stay and talk

I know blogworld has become a complete microcosm of my real world when I hit a certain mood, and I find myself lurking around nervously on other blogs reading, wanting to comment, wanting to say hello, but not wanting to ‘face’ anyone. Like how in the real world when the phone rings, I’ll want to pick up but can’t bring myself to. I stayed a couple of days at my sister’s after she called and called, and then finally knocked on my door and found me in my pyjamas at 3 pm. And I felt better during the stay, but it didn’t help much for when I got back home.

At least in blogland I can leave a quick comment and run. People don’t like that too much in reality-land. Hi-don’t look at me- bye. It’s weird, when I get like this, it’s not what I want to say, or saying it that matters, it’s just the contact, making that effort, being seen, that I do not feel up to. On the other hand if someone actually sat down and talked to me, I might just cry with a mixture of shame and relief. Weird.

Qu’est-ce qui se passe?!? Damned if I know. And I don’t ask that in French to be pretentious. I’m just remembering a certain French teacher who could ask/scream that with much conviction when she wanted to know what on earth was going on. That and ‘ca-sUF-FIT!’, a crescendo-ing arpeggio, at its wits end. That was for when she really didn’t care what was going on, just wanted it to end. Well I agree, ca su-reallyfuckin-fit!

I posted the last story, and it has two other parts, but I do not fully like it, it lacks oomph, it lacks sex. I feel out of touch, haven’t written an honest to goodness piece in so long.

I’ve mentioned my pet peeve for unfinished conversations. Some time last Wednesday, T left me a message. He apparently had something important he wanted to tell me.

We had an extraordinary talk a week before. I had all this work to do and had told him earlier that day that I might be on hiatus for a week or so. Of course, this restriction just left me horny and while taking a nap, I had a nice image of him, me and la troisieme. And so, miracle of miracles, I actually called him to tell him about it, the way he has, the way he would. This suprised and aroused him I think, and the miracle struck twice because, with a little bit of help, I talked my way through it and we came. We came with me talking you understand. My second time, and this one so strong and unexpected. I should write about it fully. I am surprised how vulnerable it left me. I wonder his courage at having done it all along. But I don't think he's ever taken it this far. I said some strange things, strange desires. It’s been coming to me in disordered fragments through the last two weeks.

(- ..I’m..I’m wondering how it would..feel for you.. to have me behind you like that.. and know.. the power you have over me right then.

- What power? What do I have?

His voice is thick. I can only whisper, slow and sad and resigned, almost to myself.

-You’ve fucked me before…. That’s your power… You don’t- need to do anything.

I hear him groan...


- What would you do?
- Uhuh. I’m not telling you what I would do,… I know exactly what I would do. But it’s your turn now, you tell me.

I laugh because I knew, was biding time.


-I don’t know where this story ends, T.
-Yes you do. Bring the thought to completion. Whatever you want me to be doing.. is what I’ll do.


-…I need you to fuck with me…
- Okay
-…I need you to come really really close, my fingers inside her, feeling you grow, wondering if you’re going to.. get to me………

-I need you to stop
- Okay
-I need you to pull out….. I need you to hold back a little bit when you start to fuck me........


-Yeah but you can make me cum very fast when you want.

He can. He knows.

-I know I can.

He knows he can.


-…So hold on just a little longer when you fuck me…..I’ll be the one in the end..begging you to cum.

And then I remember the unexpected break in my narrative, the loss, the complete desperate slipping away. It comes with no prompting from either of us, mid-sentence. It risks everything, and it could never take no for an answer. But I am not thinking or weighing it right then, I am just breathe whispering these words like a trance, and only after do I realize all that has passed. Something like this.

-Please cum please pleasse I’vebeenwai...ting.. I won’t cum without you… don’t hold back just cum so I can cum I need to please cum- my breath-please just cum- my breath- please - and then his frantic voice interrupting me, starling me, tight and rushed, barely forming the words, cumcunghmcum and I do.)

It does not seem like much, the conversation, but every sentence is larger than it first appears in the mirror. And it magnifies too when said out loud, no matter how quiet. And it is close to me, revealing, damning. I struggle with it, and now I have put him into it. Actually, it is all for him, and it is scary.

(And later on, apart from him, I struggle as always with the idea of this woman: have I made her a complete abstraction, a tool, a toy, a symbol to use? Will she be getting fully out of this if she were actually there?)

When we’re done, he has to leave immediately to clean up. I feel alone and steamrollered, my orgasm and my words sobbing and shivering through my body. He apologizes when he returns, says he had not expected or prepared to cum, had just been sitting there on his couch. He is uncharacteristically quiet, does not say a word, just his faint sighs and breathing and the odd barely audible God now and then. And for the first time, I do not want him at all to leave, and I don’t say anything. He gets ready to go, as he always would. Actually he has always joked how he feels like the ‘girl’, because he is the one who wants to stay and maybe talk, and he feels like I want him to go, when really I just feel too passed out to talk. But this time all I think is no, stay, and he asks me if I want him to go, and I say no, stay. I don’t want him to leave you see, don’t want this to drop away from under me, and he stays, still as silent as me, until I sigh and say ok, I should sleep. He says ok, says he can stay further, he wants to be sure, and I want him to stay, but my eyes are closing, I am beginning to fall asleep and I don’t want to ask him to be there, listening to me fall asleep. And he won't be there in the morning. And so we do our quick ok goodnight before the click.

I feel like he’s been acting a bit off ever since, but this is likely my paranoia.

And then he tells me of this, a week ago, this something important he needs to talk about. I don’t get the message until later, but as soon as I do, I tell him I’ll call if he wants. But by then he is sorry, he knows how busy I am with school, says he just kind of blurted it out, and it is not urgent, so we can talk about it later. Great. He says it’s nothing too long no, really not that urgent at all, nothing bad. Alright then, I say, cool, I’ll be pretty much done tomorrow night. OK we’ll talk then, he says, now I have to go.

Never happened. It’s been a week now and it’s never happened. I catch him online, we say a word or two. I mention again when I’m free so he can feel free to make the call, nothing more said. I know he’s busy. He’s said he had a stressful weekend. I think maybe he would like some time. I hope he is not avoiding. I was not made for this. Who is? But I’m sensitive to the power cubed I’m realizing, and I try to keep it down, rein it in. I am usually successful too, am this super chilling, relaxed , chillaxing girl. But then every once in a while, it just bursts out even worse.

Am I the only one who finds these starts and stops intensely annoying? It’s like me sitting you down and saying quietly ‘Listen, we need to talk’ and then you sitting down, ready to listen, all ears. And then me scooting off to get a cup of tea, and never coming back. Or coming back ten hours later and being like, sooo.. nice weather we’ve been lately huh? Nu-uh, no, not gonna work.

That little yellow Post-it note I left to myself in the back of my mind to not wonder what he wants to talk about was working fine, just flapping away until today when I realised how long it's been, and it turned into a neon flashing sign: DO NOT WONDER! Hello? I said, don't wond- stop that, you're wondering, don't speculate- I'm serious, stop it.

Rant over, I’m calm again. I bet you it won’t even end up have anything to do with above conversation. At any rate, I’ve waited a week, I will wait a few more days until this weekend, and then I will just have to ask for myself. Apparently Saturn went direct tonight and things are going to be a-moving. Snort.

For now I will worry about other things. My growing disconnect from the world. I know it's a bit creepy and suspect, I'm waiting for one particular phone call and yet I cannot pick up any others. Actually give me enough time and I won't be able to pick up his either. Gah but still, must be more obssessed with him than I think. (Whisper to self: err you created a blog revolving around him... ) Around the relationship. Not just him. It's true. Shut up.

Demons riding high tonight. I hope they go retrograde. Anything in there that mentions Satan going retrograde?

I'm not actually crazy, I just seem to want to write a lot when I have cramps. Yes, writing eases cramps, I thought everyone knew this. This kind of writing that is, not the ten page journal critique writing I should be doing .

Just to clarify.