Stupid Emotions

Today started off with the grumble roar of a garbage truck.  I jolted out of bed wondering why I once again forgot to drag it to the outside of the fence, certain I would drag my butt out there extra early.  It’s never happened yet, but by golly maybe someday I will.  🙂  The very nice garbage men waited and took my trash and they all grinned at me stupidly.  I looked down to make sure I was wearing pants (hey, I’ve done stupider shit) and happily yes, there were in fact pants.  shirt too.  I felt like I was on a roll with the ‘normal’ when I realized I was wearing my collar.  Yes, my lovely leather spikey collar Demon sent me.  complete with tshirt and scrub pants.  yep, I am a hella sexual beast.  ~rolls eyes~

Being the twisted freak I am I am kind of thinking that next week I should take the trash out with a ball gag on – just to mess with them.  🙂

Then work, and surprisingly as days go–not too bad.  Worked on some equipment, flirted with psycho (if flirting means discussing him performing my brazillian wax instead of the nice spa).    Around 4pm I went on etsy and found what has to be my new favorite toy (purple/blue on black leather and anklet cuffs).   I have been having way too much fun looking for naughty stuff on etsy.  Some of it is stealth naughty; some is blatant and proud.   I was planning on hitting the beauty supply store to buy wax (hey, I am not one to say no to a free and detailed wax) then home and relaxing.  Instead….well, I talked.  openly, freely, and intensely.

It started off well, I had that intense voice talking about how I love easily and deeply but rarely trust.  And then Safety dude went into an entire discussion about his life and questioned some of my beliefs in regards to love.  He asked me if my best experience ever had been my first and last would that have been enough for me.

oooooh, good question.

then he asked me about my husband, and was all of the stress there my fault–had I not tried hard enough.

well, hell.  maybe.

then, we talked further….I got to the point of tears running down my cheeks.  It was intense and deep and a REAL conversation.  Not one of someone encouraging me to divorce my husband…but just talking about love, what love means, what causes love to die, why we treat the ones we love the worst, his recent divorce, women he loved/thought he loved, how we ended up where we were.

I left this conversation feeling good.  strong.  centered.  Somehow that led me to feel incredibly lonely…deeply bone achingly lonely once I got home.  Met some friends for dinner and brought up the conversation and my friend put in her two cents (wants me to divorce).  What do I want?  still don’t know.

But I tell you what, I can sure “ATTACK” in a conversation.  Make someone feel like shit even if I didn’t want that to happen.  And in this case, that someone is Demon.  I talk to him every day.  every single day.  I’m in uncharted waters with this man.  I love him.  I have never seen him in person, touched him, tasted, or smelled him – but I love him.   And even though he has made some mistakes; I trust him as well.  And that is very hard for me.  I can count the people I trust on one hand.

I am really tired.  I was given the task of trying to sort through these emotions, write them out, embrace them.  The truth of it is as follows I feel guilty.  I feel very very guilty.  I have an entire life that keeps me sane separate from my husband.  So I have some heavy guilt.  Something else I don’t want to delve into too much is I said, out loud, “I cannot imagine being free”.

doesn’t bode well does it?

Anywhoodle…love ya’ll.  time for sleep.  ~big yawn~



wah wah fuckity wah

I have not had sex in a Very Long Time.
I haven’t even played with myself in a very long time.
I was given an offer by the visiting husband and shockingly (like, I was seriously shocked by this) I turned him down. Why!?! you may be asking. Well, I’ll tell ya.
I didn’t wanna. Normally I would beg for it…but for some reason I had the thought that if I fucked him, it would be 6 minutes of fun followed by months of frustrated angry rage. So I thought to myself–huh, maybe this is why people give up on sex.
Probably this won’t be forever…I’m sure once he leaves I will be back at myself like a monkey with a pleasure button. But this visit of his has been a roller coaster of emotions. I love him I hate him I want a divorce please move here….it’s been f’n exhausting.
So please excuse me from the fun smuttery for a little while.
-love, H.


Hey folks. Been back in the routine at work for a week now.
Its been good. Weird not seeing psycho everyday.
He is on vacation.
I think the Tiger Woods thing freaked him out.
Hell, it freaked *me* out.
Now I’ve got Bear talking about video….I don’t know people….
This may be it.
I may be done with sex.
(For today)

Holy Mother Fucking Snarl.

Oh the rant…how I need thee.
*deep breath* I’m bitchy. And today I am going to write it all down here. Ready, here goes.
Happy thanksgiving–I didn’t get laid once. I paid for a hotel room with a giant jacuzzi tub in it. Which I happily enjoyed by myself, don’t get me wrong, but fuck. dude. I can’t even get hotel room sex out of the person I married? Christ…whats the point anymore.
Happy thanksgiving–my family is an asshole. all of them. okay…they probably aren’t all assholes and there is a better way to look at them, etc. but fuck…they all need to be on behavior meds or nice pills or something. Christ. I’m reconnecting with old step-family which I think is nice and adult….esp. since my current step family my dad is married to…well, she is a psycho bitch who won’t see me (so I am not allowed to go to their house. *deep sigh*
Then, the guy who I have been falling in love with, well, our playful texting may have gotten out of hand. I am submissive; llllooooove to be dominated but as soon as a fist comes flying at me I immedietly want to fight. And I fight dirty and hit hard. Slap my ass, whip me, slap my body (face slapping gives me the same feeling as punched), pinch me, tie me up, make me face the corner….whatever, but as soon as a closed fist comes my way it makes me block and counter. too many years of training to fight that instinct. So now he and I are all awkward. grrrrrrr.

then I get home and well, most of my beer is gone, my gas tank is half empty (full when I left), and I fucking had to get a cab from the goddamn airport. and I arrived to an electric bill higher than anything else I have ever had.

I’m mad.
and bitching.
and kinda want to hit someone.