I am feeling pretty beat up, but I am trying to keep my head in the game.  Trying to stay focused on things that matter – things I can affect.  I have been tinkering with my art for a while, now.  I don’t spend enough time working on my sketching.  I need to set a schedule – mandate time for certain things.  I rebel against structure, but I need it as badly as anyone does.  I got a lot of photos developed for the art scattering project.  Still need jars…  I feel pretty good about this quest.  I used to do things like this all the time.  I know I haven’t completely lost myself, but I feel like I will only find what isn’t there by living the way I ought to be living – being the person I know I am, inside, and putting that energy out there, for others to feel.  It may be too late in the year for seed bombs (forcing explosions of growth in vacant lots, or anyplace that there is dirt, to dress up an urban environment with flowers, veggie plants, or pot plants), but it’s always a good time for guerrilla art.  People do so much to create chaos in the world – why not try to create some beautiful chaos?

Right now, it’s just a short term quest for me to latch onto and enjoy.  I haven’t gotten going on my play, yet.  I have a lot to do with my photography, my SSI review, fixing up my apartment, and some writing assignments from my shrink.  There’s more beyond that, but even that is too much to think about, right now.  I am just going to try to piece it out, into small steps that don’t seem as overwhelming.  Like giving 20 minutes to a particular thing, and then moving on, if I can’t keep at it.

The picture attached here is obviously another from my S & M portfolio.  This one is simply titled "Venus in Furs" because Lily Hex is obviously the living embodiment of the literary legend.  I admire these Dommes so much.  As a submissive, I lack their confidence and their authoritative presence.  The way some of them don’t shave their underarms or bikini line – they celebrate everything that makes them strong women, and they only crush men under their heels who are begging for it – seems like a good system.  I have over a hundred good shots from that show, and I intend to give a DVD of them, plus some prints, to the Mistresses of The Holy Mountain BDSM Temple.

I like going to events there, but I doubt Charie would ever come along.  Those aren’t really his thing.  He thinks it’s all excessively theatrical.  He is not a sadist, dom, or sub – he really has no interest in that world.  And, that’s mildly unfortunate.  A submissive, in the right hands, can be the ultimate lover – someone who gets off on pleasing their partner, who just wants to be treated somewhat roughly, and to feel somewhat degraded or used in the process (I think a lot of guys could get behind this).  But, to enjoy such a sub, one must know how to make use of one, and not many people are built for that.  Charlie always knew I was like this.  He used to cater to it somewhat – like a middle ground, compromise-type-deal.  Then, eventually, our limited sex life became more and more limited, until honest communication had nothing to do with it.  There was so much that he didn’t say, for so long.  So much that I didn’t say…

And, you can never go back.  Once things are done, they can never be undone.  And, nothing said, can be unsaid.

But, in spite of what seems like irrepairable damage, we are both still here.  I don’t know about giving up, but it seems certain that neither of us is ready to let go.  We enjoy sharing our day-to-day with each other.  We are good companions.  Comparable humor and intelligence…  we make each other laugh, and take care of each other, but…  I don’t know if it could ever be right, again.  If he could ever see me, the way I would want him to…  if he could ever forgive me…  if I could forgive him, or myself…  we don’t know how to live without each other.  If we split, we would have to learn.  He does not seem to be trying to learn how to live without me.  All the same, I see nothing in his countenance, words, or actions, that would convince me that he could ever be in love with me, again.  I will always love him, and he will always love me, but IN LOVE is another matter.  I haven’t felt like he was in love with me for a very long time.  I haven’t felt WANTED by him in a very long time.  This all predates the events of the past year. 

All I really know, now, is that I don’t know how to let go, or give up on this thing.  Right, or wrong…  good or bad…  that’s where I am.