“Wow, you’re such a dick. I hope you had fun, you fucking asshole. I’m done”… “Fuck off and die. You don’t give a fuck about me and I am sick of it. I am so done.”…”Fuck off. You are a child. I deserve better. I am better off without you. You are a selfish little boy. Go be selfish with someone else.”…”Your a fucking worthless prick”.
It felt so good texting those things to Sir. I didn’t care that my recovery relies on me living by spiritual principles. I didn’t care that I was being verbally abusive. I didn’t even care that I didn’t mean anything I was saying. I was so angry. It just felt like the exact right thing to do. He wasn’t even phased he just kept explaining himself and then he said, “We always do this you know,” like I need to be reminded that I am a hot head. Like I need to be reminded that I lose my temper and then break up with him, when I know I can’t follow through. Like we haven’t talked about it over and over.
I had been trying so hard, every day, for the last two weeks not to break up with him. Or, “fake break up” with him. Maybe that’s what I should call it.
“If you want a little time to contemplate you can. But I am not ready to give up,” he texts.
I try to mean it. I want to mean it. I answer, “You already gave up on me. You show me with your actions everyday.” Then I practice my words being real and I cry and cry. I feel the sting of what it would feel like to go day by day without him at all. The pain feels almost like a relief. It feels bearable like it will hurt but I won’t die or cut myself or use over it. At least not tonight.
“I fucking hate you. Worthless piece of shit. Good for nothing.”…”I can’t trust you to beat me right. I can’t trust you to love me right. You can’t do anything right for me. So fuck off.”
He doesn’t though. He keeps texting me and I keep unloading on him all my thoughts and feelings about why he doesn’t love me.
Until he says, “Take a breathe, Gracie”
And I am not so sure about my anger anymore. I just remember that I am scared.
“I don’t know how to have a boyfriend. It’s too hard. I am too scared.”
And I know I have lost the fight again. I agree to see him later that night. He calls me. After I get off the phone, I feel weak. I tell myself that I am too much of a coward to break up with him. I feel like a failure. But, I know I shouldn’t make big decisions when I am upset.
Later, he comes over and we talk and talk. I get angry again. I shut down. I become numb. I try to come back to the present. I try not to assume I know what he is trying to say. I wonder how anyone can bear to be with someone like me. I am so dramatic. When he tries to kiss me, when he starts to caress me, I frown and push him away. I tell him I don’t want to have sex, because I am afraid he will just use me. So he says we can just cuddle.
I have talked and talked and there is nothing more I can think of to say. I am staring blankly at him, when he asks me what I am thinking. “I was thinking,” I say, “How badly I want you to be my Daddy right now.”
He hates Dd/lg role-playing. He hates littles. He hardens his face and says, “But…Daddy’s aren’t supposed to fuck their little girls.”
“No, they aren’t”
He says he will hold me and make me forget the big bad boys. I know that he means himself. And I know he will do more than hold me. I smile and melt into his arms and become a little girl. He whispers all the right things for my Dd/lg fantasy and we make the sweetest love. I cum over and over until I don’t want to cum anymore and I don’t want him to be my Daddy anymore. I want him to be my Sir and my lover and my boyfriend. After he cums he stays and cuddles with me for a long time.
“I feel better”
“Do you feel better because you got laid or because you forgive me,” he asks.
“Because I forgive you”