On Trust.

By way of background, this particular post was originally written when my (probably about to be former) Master and I had a disagreement.  It was the beginning of the end for us. There is a lot of history here, but I will briefly give you the following:  His name is Sean and he is from Australia.  I live in the United States, but the online thing worked for us as we were both busy, fully functioning adults.  He refused to allow me very far into his life which, as  some of you involved in the lifestyle know, does  not bode well for any Master/slave sort of dynamic.  Anyway, this was about two weeks ago, so relatively fresh.  Enjoy.  It wrecked me, hah.

The girl who always says yes
Wants to scream no
Takes over everyone’s stress
And ignores her own
The life and soul of the party
But loves to stay home
She says she’s not brokenhearted
But she cries on her own

Playing pretend
I shouldn’t hide it
It isn’t right
Being a liar
I’m crossing the line
Dancing with fire,
When I’m not fine
Should I deny it?

Cause I’m going crazy when I’m not okay,
I keep praying that the cracks don’t show my pain,
Cause even when I’m falling, I say my life is like a dream,
But I’m fighting through a nightmare,
Cause I’m not really being me,
See you don’t really know me

The girl who starts all the jokes
Just make her laugh,
Preaches the do’s and the don’t’s
But loves to be bad,
Smiles when they guess who she’s loving
What they say makes her mad
She says “I’m fine, I need nothing”
But she hopes for your hand

Playing pretend
I shouldn’t hide it
It isn’t right
Being a liar
I’m crossing the line
Dancing with fire,
When I’m not fine
Should I deny it?

Cause I’m going crazy when I’m not okay,
I keep praying that the cracks don’t show my pain,
Cause even when I’m falling, I say my life is like a dream,
But I’m fighting through a nightmare,
Cause I’m not really being me,
See you don’t really know me, baby, oh no

You don’t really know me, no no,
You don’t really know me,
How can you know me?
You don’t really know me,
You don’t really know me,

Cause I’m going crazy when I’m not okay,
I keep praying that the cracks don’t show my pain,
Cause even when I’m falling, I say my life is like a dream,
But I’m fighting through a nightmare,
Cause I’m not really being me,
See you don’t really know me, baby, oh no,

How can you know me? me, me, me, ooh, mhhm
You’re gunna get to know me

I have spent the majority of my life allowing my worth to be determined by others.  Men specifically.  I don’t mean the men I used, but the ones I genuinely cared about.  They were few and far between.  Before Master it was Tommy.  I gave him so much of myself, vested so much time and effort.  When he left, I was devastated.  I found something I had written about him.  I had written it the day I had met Master, I wrote about Him too.  Anyway:
I miss Tommy.  He doted on me so perfectly.  Was it only two weeks ago that we reconnected after a 6 month hiatus?  Was it only a week ago that we spent 6 hours on the phone and he told me he loved me?  I remember his voice, his courser, he is still haunting me.  I am not sure if he will be back any time soon, but I mourn him in a way I don’t often allow myself to.  When he does return, I will be sadder I think because it cannot be the same.  The cycle continues.
I don’t think anyone I have ever trusted has not hurt me.  Tommy comes in and out now.  He still calls me “pet”, but as I predicted, it isn’t the same.  It couldn’t be anyway; I don’t belong to him anymore.
If I cannot serve, I do not serve a purpose in His life.  I am not sure there is a place for me there anymore.  Ultimately, I am human.  I made a genuine effort to show that I cared and that I was a friend as well as a slave.  He said that He trusted me,  I guess everyone defines that differently.
For me, it has always been giving your whole and true self to someone.  That doesn’t mean romantic love, it just means, “Here.  Here is a piece of myself that I have chosen to give to you because I feel like you’re worthy and hopefully you think I am worthy enough for the same.”
He said he trusted me, so I trusted Him.  I hope He isn’t another Tommy.  And so the cycle goes.  Ultimately, I hope He is happy.  That’s all that matters to me.
almost had a friend.
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