Assymetry

A distorted image of who my parents were that I didn't want to let go of and then they both died without me ever being able to directly make amends.
Shit!

Bliss

Irretrievable loss

Women seem to deal with loss and grieve better than men it seems to me. Men don't seem to have a clue.
Loss seems a death to men is about losing and it makes men want to get even. There is anger. And get back at something or someone when there's nothing to really gain.

It seems that some people really liked my dad. The way his step daughters spoke about him.

How can I help anyone in my job without being a trained wife, daughter, partner, friend, human being.
It is different being a therapist, seeing someone else's lie is much easier with academic knowledge and training.

I learnt more about my father over the last years than I ever did beforehand.
Some things my dad did were just awful. But with T he seems to have done things that I just could not associate with my dad. Who was this man they talked about. A wicker coffin, a man who liked things he's never liked before. He was interested in things like the cinema and cruising when he wasn't before.
I had thought he was disregarding my mother somehow.
He chose this new life.
He chose other people when I was younger, other women, lies and not my mum and I. I thought for as long as I know that he didn't like me. He didn't like very much at all. He thought things I liked were pointless. I thought things he did were awful and his interests futile. And yet I looked up to him
Not everyone makes a good parent. My dad always said he would not make a good parent and didn;t ant to be a parent.
I guess he did the best he could with all the deficits of his own childhood and adulthood.
It's not me being defective but circumstances. I was not a bad person. I have to say that again - I was not a bad person as I believed I was.
I only really have learnt anything about myself - selfishly focused? I have been working on me and the sadness I wasn't able to be changed enough to really really make amends to my dad. I would have wanted him to know that I had changed and there were some things that really were still troublesome for me. Men.
I did say to him as he was struggling to breathe that I didn't understand what it had all been about. At that time I was still feeling the victim. I don't now. I took so much difficulty to his door simply because we were so different.
He didn't seem to hear me. He was unconscious at that time. They say hearing is the last thing to go. Maybe he heard me and knew I was there. I think I said sorry. I say sorry now dad.
I swear I felt his presence and a whisper in my ear of a mans voice saying sorry. I was falling asleep leaning on G but I heard it. It was before the reading of the Will and it was at the reading that I realised the sorry was for his disinheritance of me. He didn't come through for me. I didn't come through for him either.
It seems all so futile now.
I don't have anything of his that represents these last years. It would be something to hold onto as I try to let go oh him gradually a I did with my mum. Instead I have to do this in a more abstract way. He's dead and gone.
There is no time left. I see that clearly now. Time is precious and it's irretrievable.
I wanted him to say something meaningful to me and all he did was tell me off and feign sleep to get rid of me.
I wish I had been able to say something far more meaningful to me. I wished I had been able to ask him if he actually loved me. I wanted to ask him if he liked me at all, ever.
I should have been there more often - I was afraid. I was afraid of him doing and bein nasty to me.
I was afraid that after a litime of hating him he would be suddenly okay with me. If he could love me ... then what. It didn;t mean anything after all these years I suppose.
He hadn't been able to just accept me as I was. And so we were so far apart.
I remember the day I was about to get married and he said soething about not having to go through with it. I was too scared as I thought about the congregation, mum etc. I wish I had said that I was too scared for those reasons. I wonder what he would have said and done.
People say my fatherloved me and he did what he did. How do people know that?? I don;t think he did even though he said it. I loved him and hated him.
I can be the father to myself now. Really? But I don't know how to be the father I wanted to have!!
If a client asks me about me and my father I can say "I'm a therapist - what do you think?" and laugh.

Bliss
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You can say when .....

Naughty writing to LW. After a weekend of feeling flat and sad, grieving all that is goo about G and missing him it was a relief to hear from LW. I know it's a distraction and amidst I have little fantasies of hope that it might evolve  into THE relationship. How many times before I learn???

Anyway the texting and emailing produces the sexiness once again. It feels different from SL because .... ? Hmm not sure because. It's just him and I? It's not amidst avatars? I don't know if it really is any different. It's a speedier way than all those years ago when it could only be sexy letters between lovers. So it's different but it's not novel.

So here we go - read at your peril she said smiling and embarrassed ....

"This may be something you already know, however I wanted to write this as a very powerful turn on.I will write this as if it's what we have experienced in person together.

Whilst we've been paying with each other, arousing each other, touching and feeling each other, it's a real exquisite feeling to watch you masturbate yourself. To be able to be a part of that and join in by licking the droplets of cum whilst you touch yourself. And every so often you allow me to take you in my mouth, whilst holding your cock with my hands at the same time, feeling your balls gently, you trusting me with you.

When you tell me to play with myself, it's very exciting. You've already made me very wet, playing with my clit, with my pussy. Teasing me with your cock at times. And then when you tell me to play with me I know that you are going to tell me to stop as you notice that I am getting close to orgasm and you tell me to stop. At first I resist you but you firmly tell me to stop. I can feel the sensations seeping back into my body, slowly, slowly. And it's as if you've just taken possession of a little bit of me. Then just as I've started to ground you tell me to play with myself again, instructing me as to what I should do. You wait until I'm so highly aroused, getting there quicker this time and then tell me to stop. It's even harder to stop but you insist. And so I do. And again just when I'm relaxed you tell me to play. Very quickly I'm near to orgasm and you tell me to stop again. You leave me longer this time and talk about all sorts of things with me. Then when I think you will not tell me to play with myself you do and this time you let me keep playing and then you tell me to cum at the count of 10. You count down slowly and my god! At one you say cum and I do, my whole boy completely taken by the absolute orgasm that's been continuously absorbed into me and totally in your hands. You are holding me as I cum. I long for you to touch me but you just hold me and soothe me.

I am so utterly exhausted with this orgasm.

I know then that you have absolute control of my orgasm."

 

Now I have experienced this both virtually and actually. It is extremely powerful and why is it that I adore the control being with them so much. I feel pretty certain that it removes me from my vulnerability at some level and yet telling him about it is vulnerability. I didn't want to share this sort of thing with any man again until it was a proper relationship. I hadn't even shared this with G. I would hint at things hoping he would pick up on it. But of course it was up to me to be explicit. JH knew this stuff. He was very advanced and taught me a lot about accepting me sexually.

I am forever grateful to him for that but I don;t think he'll ever know.

 

Bliss

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