And the beat goes on . . .


The crocus have sprung up through the rubble, it always amazes me the strength and the vibrant energy that spring brings.  Once again, Sparrow and I have made it through the winter.  It was weird and strangely mild, I do believe that mother nature was doing the two of us justice by making the winter doldrums seem non existent.  I do not think either of us could handle anymore cold harsh reality than that which already rules our lives.  His dog died in a horrible way, I hated that dog and he ripped out a tiny, tiny piece of my heart.  Sparrow on the other hand. . .heartbroken.  I some how, in some way, believe that the dog had to die in order for  things to change in this house. It now has become ours, no other attachments to other aspects of our former lives, former selves. . .whatever.  But as always, it is so hard to let go . . . for me it still is of her who will always be me but the character and all.  My anxiety, our anxiety is getting worse. I swear Sparrow is catching my anti social behavior, I hate that he is picking up on my negative aspects.  I worry about him a lot, he is not in the best shape mentally. He still tells me that if he could he would rip out his heart and give it to me.  I tell him that I love you is good enough . . . Sparrow deals with all the uncertainty by getting tattooed, he has almost finished his full sleeve.  I don’t know if I deal with anything at all, I don’t talk or communicate.  For someone that has always  been very verbal I can’t seem to speak.  I just don’t want to know about it.  I can’t even speak about how I want to be fucked or what I want or why I want it that way.  For someone that has created an entire image around being sexualized, lusted for, and an abject seductress, I can’t  come to any real terms with what I want.  And the things I want I have trouble saying.  It is an illusion within an illusion.  For me the easiest way to think in terms of work still is sex work I could be a madam, I can be a dom. . .I probably could.  But I can’t be any of that with the man I am marrying? What the Fuck is that about?  Sparrow went in to the strip club last week to see what it really was like when I would work.  He asked me if it was ok beforehand and I said it did not bother me but it did.  Why was he allowed to go back and I am not? I sort of resented him.  I know it was my own shit, he was just curious.  I felt like god damn you I am trying to let it go and I so fucking can’t but I can sort of and you are rubbing it in my face and I can’t fuck you the way I want because all this other shit comes up.  It was always never personal and now it is suppose to be and I don’t know how to do that.  I want to, but I get distracted by all the other things of random unimportance.  Sparrow is the important one, he is the only one.  I know no other love like I know for him, that is for certain.  Maybe since the season change there will be a change for us too even if at this time it is only new paint on the walls.  I look for a lighter time inside, today I am hopeful. I placed my headband on with a feeling of seeing a long lost friend today it was charming.  Sparrow permanently placed peonies on his forearm knowing they are my favorite and all.



~ by applejaxe on April 12, 2012.

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