Pickles for my Cookie

From the archives  Every morning I send a gratitude text. Even when I'm struggling to be grateful. Even when I'm struggling to realize, that the hurt will make me stronger in the end.  Today I'm grateful for your hatred, mean comments, and knives that cut deep.  Here's the deal. You act like I don't know I'm overweight. I do. I'm well aware, and I know that your thoughts and opinions of me are none of my business. But, that doesn't mean that it hurts any less.  It's not like being overweight is fun. I know what being a buck10 is like. I know what it is like being where I am at now. No one is a worse critic than me.  "Well your face is pretty"... "Do you think anyone is going to want to do a scene with you looking like this?... "You'd be so much prettier if"... Now, none of these things are excuses. But when you are struggling to love yourself as is, having someone throw "french fries and shakes" or "dairy c...

I'd like to start and end my day the same. To be in your arms, on your chest, in your nook. The space between your chest and bicep. To feel your breath, and lips on my face. On my neck. Your words in my ear, and your heartbeat on my cheek. I'd like for your hands, fingertips, lips, and teeth to know every inch of my body. To be known and understood. To feel your heat. Bound, blindfolded and used relentlessly. Poked, prodded, fingered, fucked, bit, scratched, slapped, choked, kissed, spit on, made to cry, beg, plead. I don't want to make decisions. I want to please you, and in turn be pleased.Teach me how to be a good girl. Show me what I'm missing. Ruin me Daddy, so that I think everyone else is full of shit.  My body would melt into yours. To find pleasure in the pain delivered. To find pleasure in the delivered. To find love. To find lust. To be yours.  With Love, AJV

I'm sitting here and its hard for me not to feel manipulated. Last time we were in this situation you conveniently told me the lighter half of the situation.  I was led to believe one thing while only receiving half of the facts. Does that matter? Should it matter? Do I need those facts.  If I had known sooner, how would my opinion of you changed. Is this a let go and let God moment? Is this me trying to control the uncontrollable? Am I seeing what I need to see, and hearing what I need to hear.  It's hard not to think that I'm just a pawn right now.  AJV

Ya see...deep down, I'm broken, and a little fucked up. I've had a lifetime of hurt, struggle, pain, loss and emotional damage. I know that these things have made me stronger. A year ago I did not think that my divorce would lead me here, or would I have the community, love and support I have now. But that is another story, for another day. At no point, did I think it would be possible to find someone like you.   We had been talking for a few weeks before we finally set a date to meet. Play. Whatever would come of it. I stood at the screen door in a white thong, long-sleeved white crop top and a floral robe. I see you get out of your car, walking towards my place and I can't help but mumble "Okay, Okay". If you have ever had fet date before, you know this feeling. The one that makes you question if this person is a psychopathic killer, bum or god knows what. Is the person that shows up, going to be the one you have seen and talked to online?   Well you wer...

I'm up. I showered and brushed my teeth. I hate not seeing your things in the shower. But I also hate that I shared my concerns with you last night, you shared your writing. Then you did the exact thing I was scared of, even after you sent it. You disappeared.  But I don't need explanations. Maybe it was avoidance to talk about those things that scare you. Maybe you went to sleep on the couch. Maybe you were on Instagram when it said you were. Maybe you weren't. Maybe you were chatting with someone else. But thats something I need to let go of. I cannot keep holding you to my standards. I cannot hope you will have the same standards as me. Or spend your time like me. I need to sit back and watch from a distance. I need to observe and gather information.  AJV

To lie is part of being human. But at what point do we start lying to keep our hearts safe? At what point have we told ourselves and others so many lies that we become non-human.  Do you lie for safety? For an opportunity to be boastful? To manipulate the narrative?  You lied. You'll do it again. It just won't be with me this next time.  AJV