Right now, “I love you” feels like some seriously kinky shit. Edge-play, even.
I’m not talking about the I love you that slips from our mouths when we hug our ride-or-die bitches, or snuggle with pets or children.
I’m not talking about the I love you that rushes from our lungs mid-stroke, when our monkey minds dance about in the near-deathness of orgasm.
I’m talking about the I love you that hangs in the air awaiting reciprocity.
I. Love. You. Do. You. Love. Me?
Yeah, so about that…
I love you is not a safe word.
I love you isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card.
I love you isn’t a destination and it sure as hell ain’t a shortcut.
It means something. I take that seriously.
I’m in an odd place right now… emotionally, sexually, spiritually.
I have no idea where I’ll end up, or with whom (perhaps just myself), but I’m suddenly hyper-vigilant about setting boundaries.
It seems critical to move forward with transparency in this. I do not wish to hurt anyone. I do not want to use anyone (unless, of course, they wish to be used… wink).
I just told someone that I didn’t have the “head or the heart” energy to be in a “real” relationship. It’s not that I dislike relationships, or that I don’t enjoy being an “us” but I don’t have it in me to love that way again… yet. I realize that I’ve found the greatest loves in my life when I was not actively pursuing them. Hell, I can practically trip and fall into love when I am simply open to the experience.
I love love
When I go there… I go all-in…
I cannot be that for anyone at the moment. Hell, I can’t be that for myself at the moment. Until I can be that for bat? I don’t have that to share.
So, this serves as a warning label on me at the moment for those I share scenes or beds with… and for those I like and love (but am not in love with):
You can feel whatever you want to feel but if it’s love you wish to share? That’s another story.
I’ll be treating love like I do any other sort of “Play” and if there is to be love… it requires a co-creation of YES to that love.
Please don’t make me red on your love.
Don’t whip that shit out on me unexpectedly and get butt-hurt if my reaction is to start cleaning our station while packing up my toys.
We didn’t negotiate romance.
We never set boundaries on holidays and families …on hopes and dreams…
I’m gonna need you to check in if you start feeling that shit .
I’m gonna need to hear yellow.
To clarify: If this moves beyond friendly fun, if it moves past popcorn and movies, if it moves past hard cocks and wet pussies, I’m gonna need to hear yellow.
How the hell am I supposed to know you’re feeling something else if you don’t tell me?
I’ll be blissfully unaware.
I’ll be giving you aftercare when what you want is happily-ever-after care.
There’s no need to red… let’s talk before red.
If you start feeling all the feels, I’m gonna need to hear you whisper a yellow in my ear.
I want to fuck your brain.
I want to fuck your body.
I want to feel your pain… given… received.
I want to laugh and I don’t mind crying.
Screams don’t scare me near as much as silence. Check in with me.
We can share a scene… we can share a night… we can share a weekend…. but I can’t be your wife.
I can’t be your bottom bitch.
I’m not your mother.
I’m not your sister.
I sure as hell ain’t your daddy .
Who knows? I may wake up in a month and realize I wish to find a partner of significance. Or… I may never want another all-encompassing “Would you? I do!” moment in time. This much is certain: I damn sure don’t want to be foot-swiped by emotional attachment, so just yellow if you start to feel those things. I may be willing to wander down that path with you. I may be willing to receive but not give. I may say goodbye. But tell me…
We can come off our cross, wrap up in a blanket, share some cold water, and talk about that shit .
The moment you stop thinking with your dick or brain… the moment your heart takes the wheel, just do me a favor and tell me…
…because it’s time to renegotiate our scene.