Home > reflection, writing > Out of place, out of mind

Out of place, out of mind

I feel so far away from San Francisco.  I feel so far away from everything other than being right here, in Max’s home in Seattle.  I keep wondering how I will ever be able to return to San Francisco and keep going as if nothing has changed.  I suppose this is similar to how I felt after Folsom week, and in fact life did continue as normal, with the delightful insertion of sporadic correspondence from Max.

And before my weeklong visit, we had gone over how different it would be from Folsom, that there would be a shift in expectations and scheduling, and a larger portion of real life to attend to.  Still, this stay has been quite exceptional.  Between the New Year’s Eve party, the nights being set aside for me, staying at the house, and the upcoming bondage workshop, it’s as though we’ve just extended the exchange in Folsom and brought it out of that unique bubble into everyday life, without any lessening of intensity.

Because intense it has certainly been.  But rather than the state of questioning and uncertainty I felt when we started, I am this time reaching a state of acceptance: that this is really happening, that it is not some game of manipulation, that I can actually handle this intensity – and maybe this is what I’ve been craving and needing and trying to define all along.

But I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.  It is still so early on in this, and I am still so new to the concept of polyamory and real-life service submission, that I am just waiting – almost anticipating – my first emotional catastrophe.  Or something to that effect.  A part of me still feels cautious enough to want to keep a little distance.  But most of me is … well, enraptured by this whole experience.  The overwhelming effect on me has been one of hope – that I can actually have the kind of deep D/s dynamic I never thought I’d allow myself to think about after the disaster of my first would-be master.

So, yes, I still struggle with doubts and questions and issues, but that hope is what I’m taking home with me.

That, and just an exponentially increased respect for the structure and level of organization and conscientiousness with which Max runs his life, which I had gotten a glimpse of before but has floored me now that I see it at full capacity.  Perhaps this will inspire me to introduce a little more structure into my own, everyday life.

I won’t bank on it though.

Categories: reflection, writing
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