affection, crazy, dating, relations, feelings, intimacy, life, love, relations, sex

Power of Physical Attraction

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I never liked the way he looked, he talked, he acted. His smiles were fake, his demeanor was offensive. I simply tolerated his condescending attitude and lack of compassion since the physical aspect was awesome.

Don’t you like anything about me at all?  –  I felt irritation in his voice when he confronted me with this question and did not respond. Sex with him was magical, he was hot and cold, strong and weak, passionate and negligently cruel all at the same time. Outside the bedroom there was no connection, no mutual interests, nothing. He seemed to hate everything about me. I was too skinny, too hysterical, too talkative, too worldly, too emotional.

Why are you with me? – I was really curious what kept him near me; he had no answer.

I made the decision to stop the relationship and texted him “bye now” and immediately received “You are trash, you do not deserve me”. He seemed to be pissed, I was tired and ready to go to bed.

My withdrawal started a week after. The desire to be close grew from strong to mind-blowing. The pain was very real and very physical. Our relations were purely sexual. I allowed him to crawl into my body, to germinate, to root. Breaking the connection felt worse than extracting wisdom teeth without anesthesia.

Three weeks after he gave me a call and asked to meet.

I entered a cheap Asian diner and saw him immediately; cold eyes, expensive suit, and pragmatic mercilessness. Our eyes met, the wave of pain and desire literally blinded me for a moment.

He gestured to sit down and moved to me his bowl of rice. – You are too thin. You gotta eat.

I smiled reaching out for chopsticks. I felt hungry and slightly dizzy. – How are you?  

I am good, luv. I worry about you.

 – Ok, – the rice was yummy

I can’t be with you.

 – Ok

I can’t. You know who I am, right? – He held a senior executive position in an oil and gas company, worked almost 24 hours a day and drove a luxury vehicle.

Yes, I know who you are

Honey, my friends, family, my business partners, everyone will make fun of me if we are together.

Can you order more rice, please? – I had not eaten for days, after we broke up depression hit me really hard.

Please, look in the mirror. You are drab and mousy. Did you see women I dated before?

 – Yes, – I finally looked up, tired of talking to the rice bowl and the dirty table.  

 – They are classy, well-maintained. It would take time and money to turn you into someone I could officially take out to dinner. Boob job, Botox, professional stylist, hear-dresser, everything.  It makes sense to find someone ready-made than to invest in you. You do not know how to behave, you are too short, and you are so … so anorexic.

 – I want more rice

 – I want you

– I know, buy me more rice – I was hungry and happy to see him again

–  Yes, yes, sure, – he hurried to the self-serve kiosk to place another order. Athletic, perfectly-ironed, smelling like money, almost an alien in that crappy place. He returned with a platter of veggies and water.  – I really hate this place, hon.

 – Why did you choose it?

 – Close to my office, plus none of my work team or friends come here

 – Why did you want to meet?

 – To tell you it is over

– It was over 3 weeks ago, – I was calm and curious. I knew my pain would hit me later. Days felt ok; neediness and cravings usually returned in the evening. – Bye

We met the next day, and the next day, and the next day. I loved his place, top-grade, water view, Zen style. It was absurd and stupid. We had nothing in common, we were entire strangers. I knew I needed to block his phone number and move on, but I could not. Sex was the only thing that seemed to connect us, but that connection was too tight, too strong, too painful to break. I finally gave up thinking and started laughing every time he texted the usual “how was your day luv? I will be waiting for you in that crappy diner”.

affection, anxiety, bi-polar, crazy, dating, relations, feelings, feelings, happiness, intimacy, life, love, mind, obsession, personalities, psycho, relations, sex, sugar

In Love with Bipolar

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I loved him manic. I loved his eyes with feverish glimmer, his excessive sensuality, his maniacal desire to be around and hug, and kiss, and snuggle.

“Remember Vixen, it’s not him, it is just his manic episode”, – my inner voice was coldly rational, mercilessly commonsensical.

 – I love you Vixen, – his fingers running through my hair, smile on my face, eyes closed, butterflies in the stomach.

Everything about him felt too much: too sweet, too warm, too gentle, too caring, too awesome.

His prolonged gazing into my eyes felt powerfully penetrating. I was in love with his manic sensuality.

 – Do you want a hug my dear? – I kept nodding YES, YES, YES, feelings shivers down my spine and warmth between the legs.

“It is just his manic episode,” – I wish my gut feeling were wrong, but I knew the intuition did not fail, I knew I was right, I knew it was not entirely him, I knew there will be the end, the flipside is coming.

Making love to him felt overly emotional. He was very passionate, loudly orgasming, tears in the eyes, his body covering mine.

 – We are the perfect match, Vixen. I love you.

He held me in his arms all night, waking me up with thousand hugs and kisses.

He taught me to laugh and cry when expressing myself in intimacy.

– You are the princess, this is how you should be always treated.   

Wake up, it is just the manic episode”, – I was shaking my heard trying to get rid of the inner voice, I was in heaven, I did not want to know any further.

 – Please stay, do not leave, take a day off, I need you here, – I saw sadness in his eyes as I started packing my suitcase. The weekend was coming to the end, I had errands to run prior the start of the new week, – please stay, you can drive to work from here, I really want you.

 – I gotta go my dear, I need some paperwork to finish…

  – Please stay

  – I can’t, – he kept me up 3 nights, I felt exhausted, I needed to go back home and get some sleep.

 – You can, just stay, just be here, – his physical warmth was sincere and seductive, I gave in.

The Monday morning started with a headache, redness in the eyes, and immense fatigue. I was taking a shower trying to wake up when I heard him opening the curtain. – Can I take a shower with my princess?

 I could not do it, I was in a hurry, he was fresh and excessively passionate. Staying up all these days and nights did not get him tired.  – I will take you to Italy and Spain, just tell me when, and I will book the flights.

 – I am sorry, I gotta get ready for work

 – Croatia maybe?

 – Please, – losing the job was not something I could afford.

 – Maybe England, what does my princess want?

I had to leave, he had a flight of ideas. “It is the manic episode, just a manic episode”, – he was holding me close under the running water, he was insatiably affectionate, I was exhausted and cranky.

 – Vixen, please, do NOT leave.

 – I gotta go.

His texting and calling were excessive for the next couple of hours, waning gradually by the afternoon. I felt physically and mentally broke throughout the day; I really did not care that he did not call or text “Good night, honey” in the evening, I was tired and sleepy.

Quiet Tuesday, quiet Wednesday, quiet Thursday, quiet Friday, no show – no call.

It was the manic episode, he is back to his depressed self, you won’t hear from him for a while”, – my inner voice was right.  He disappeared entirely, I slowly returned to my normal routine.  The first couple of weeks were tough. Surviving the mental withdrawal from the happy romance fairy-tale was painful and self-destructive.

He is bi-polar, unstable, alcohol-induced, and benzos-driven, he will be up and down all the time”. – I knew that, I accepted that, I had to move on.

2 months later he called me back, wanting to meet, submerging me in love, passion, and flights of ideas.

 – I love you Vixen, – he was gentle and generous, loving and giving.

 – My dear…, – I paused trying to find the appropriate word, almost knocked out by his charm and excessive sexuality, – I love you… I love you so much in your manic episode.

 

 

 

affection, bi-polar, broken heart, control, crazy, dating, relations, feelings, disgust, dominance, fears, feelings, happiness, intimacy, life, love, obsession, power, psycho, Psychopath, reality, relations, sex, submission, sugar

Evil Behind the Mask

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What does the evil look like? Is it someone leather-faced, smelling like decayed teeth and low-income household?

Dave was handsome, highly educated, and wealthy; warm, smiley and polite.

Intimacy with him felt like heaven, he was gentle, affectionate, and caring. “I hug you, and you smile, one day I will see you smiling all the time. It will make me happy.”  He had a great body, nicely smelling bed-linen, huge master bedroom, and high-quality home sound system.

 – What kind of music does my Vixen want?

 – Can we do Mozart?

 – You need something relaxing, what about meditation music?

 – Ok, – I shrugged my shoulders and went into the bathroom, being intimate with him felt relaxing. Sex was not merely joyful or fun, it was spectacular, phenomenal, magical, fantastic.

 – I need to take you shopping, my Vixen needs new dresses.

 – Maybe next time? I gotta pick up my kid from his daycare.

 – No, we will go now, I will choose, since I am paying. Your facial expression…. It has changed, that’s funny…

He had a great taste, the outfit he bought looked awesome. I was thankful and quiet. He did not want me to speak unless he expected answers to his questions.

Talking makes you anxious, dear, you get into your shitty moods that make you unhappy. I want you happy, this is my goal, princess, to make you happy.

 – Yeah, but I just wanted

 – Shh … silly, – he covered my mouth with his hand, – When I speak, you listen, ok?

Physical closeness was awesome, simply awesome, he was very expressive and emotional; I was touched, I kept breaking into tears, he liked it. – There is nothing wrong about showing your feelings, Vixen. You are certainly allowed to do it around me. You gotta read good books, spiritual literature. It will help you grow and become a better person. You can’t be a sugar baby all your life.

I found Seroquel and an empty Tequila bottle on one of his book shelves behind Luke Rhinehart and Teachings of the Buddha. – I have zero tolerance for alcohol. I can’t be around someone who drinks, Dave.

 – One of my friends left the bottle here, he stopped by yesterday, we meditated.

 – Are you taking anti-psychotic meds with alcohol?

 – I took half a pill, the first time in ten years, I stopped drinking long time ago. You gotta relax and stop your crazy thinking, I feel bad when I see you suffering, luv.

 – Why did you take it?

 – My ex stopped by, she is horrible, the most negative person in the world, she tried to commit suicide several times when we were together. I was anxious all night after that, the pill helped me sleep.

 – I thought it is your ex-girlfriend who tried to kill herself.

 – My ex-wife was also crazy, she is a very miserable person, she needs help. I had back luck with women in the past. You are the angel Vixen, I am blessed to have you in my life.

Sex was mind-blowing, I left his house feeling the happiest person in the world that night. He constantly wanted me around. He paid for my son’s sitter and for the hours I missed work to be with him. – You are working too much, it makes no sense, even my cleaners do better financially, honey. You need to change your career. I do not want my princess to stress twenty-four hours a day. It makes me sad to watch you suffer.   

 – I will end up losing my job if I continue taking time off. I can’t afford it, I need to feed my son.

 – I will take care of you both. Trust me, you will never be homeless and hungry.

 – I can take vacation later, maybe a couple of months from now?

 – Now, – suddenly his smile froze, – I will take care of everything:  flights, hotels, food, shopping… I want you to start packing now. Your son can go with us, I love kids.

 – I can’t.

 – Yes, you can, – he grabbed me by the shoulders and started shaking. My head hit the cupboard door. I screamed, he quickly released the grip and gave me a hug. – Are you ok my dear?

I saw blood on the light-wood cupboard door and concern in his dark eyes as he was gently checking my head.– Just a tiny scratch, nothing serious, love.

 – I may need to see a doctor. I hit my temple.    

 – They will rip you off and do nothing. I owned several medical practices, people there are morons. You should not trust them. I will take care of you.

 – I need to go.

 – You need to stop talking now. – The sudden change in his voice was frightening.

That afternoon was the first time I did not leave his house mesmerized by his charm and the way he used his penis. The evil was there caring and smiling, carefully drying my skin with a soft towel after a bath and holding hands while sleeping. The evil was there, slowly but surely cuffing me to the 2-million dollar home with substance abuse and mental health issues. The evil was there gently destroying the identity through manipulation and control slowly leading others to suicidal ideation. The evil had the face of an upper class guy with refined manners, hard cock, and fat banking accounts.

It took time to finally see the dirty truth inside the fancy packaging box.

BDSM, control, feelings, kinky, life, love, power, reality, relations, submission, sugar

Labeling, Stereotyping, Stigma

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– Vixen, I am so glad you dumped Jim, – Dave looked comfy and concerned, white and soft sweatshirt, bleached smile, and smell of quality perfume. – Wealthy guys are screwed up, your Jim has serious mental health issues.

I was in the middle of cutting my veggies for a green smoothie. His words caught me off guard, I froze with a kitchen knife in my hand staring stupidly at a cucumber on the cutting board.  I was offended. I hated and loved Jim at the same time; he used to be part of my life. Dave was nothing, just a nicely smelling dandy in Gucci outfit who tried to stick his nose where it does not belong.

What about yourself?  – I breathed out and proceeded chopping the cucumber.

 – What about me, honey?

 – You are wealthy.

 – I am not one of the freaks you used to be with, I value my soul over money. I would rather be in a forest than the Ritz Carlton. I have always been like this.

 – Who told you Jim uses Ritz?

 – Are you defending him?

 – I am not discussing him with you.

 – Why? I thought you trust me.

 – Dave, please…. Mind your own business

He had a fancy blender, perfect for smoothies and veggie soups. I took the lid off ready to put the cucumber in and felt Dave with my back.

 – You are in my house, and you are teaching me how to behave, – his voice got suddenly low and ice-cold. I shrugged my shoulders not bothering to turn around.

 – You gotta understand Vixen, I will do anything to please you, but you should be respectful and open.

 – Ok, – I reached for a tomato, he was still standing behind. “His blender is big and multi-functional, I want it, maybe I should ask him to give it to me… ”. The thought was kinda weird given that Dave seemed to be quite disappointed. Asking him was for anything at this point would be a waste of time.

 – I am talking to you, Vixen. Stop cutting your rabbit food and look at me.

I slowly turned, my irritation was growing. He gave my food a weird name. Jim loved my vegan dishes and always supported the idea to write a recipe book.  Dave made fun of all my efforts to make money. He considered me way too immature for it.

What do you want from me, Dave?  – he was too close, his perfume was too strong, chokingly strong. I felt sick to my stomach.

 – Your Jim wanted you to kiss his feet. It is sick.

 – It is hot. I am a sub, I loved it.

 – It is sick. You are sick too, Vixen. You need therapy, I will take care of it.

 – It is kinky, our kinks matched, the only thing that kept us together for a while. It is over now. Let’s change the subject.

 – You need help.

 – May I finish fixing my rabbit food?

 – Of course, – he stepped away, I added the rest of veggies into the cup and turned the blender on.

My hysterical reaction seemed to make him realize that not all my boundaries can be violated. He was too judgmental and too stuck in his perceptions of the reality. He divided this world into black and white and frowned at any other colors. He called me later, apologetic and regretful that I left too early. But I needed to leave, I needed my personal space to deal with his judgmental attitudes and condescending demeanor.

I came home with his blender that day.

dating, relations, feelings, feelings, life, love, mind, relations, sugar

When The Mask falls, and You Start Seeing the Real Person

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Greg texted me when I was in bed that night. – Are you home? May I come over now, babe?

I looked at the clock, it was almost midnight. Something must have happened, he only contacted me when he felt bad or needy.

As soon as I texted, “Sure”, he knocked on the door. Impatient, selfish, and ready to use me as a battery to jump start.

 – Aren’t you supposed to ask first and then get into your car and drive here?

 – I actually asked prior knocking, – he sat down on the couch and turned on the TV.

 – Do you want anything?

 – How are you?

I sat next to him and reached out for the TV remote; he smelt like hospital and sweater.

 – Maybe water?

 – Just chill, Vixen.

 – How are you?

 – Had to go in for an emergency, same crap. I am lonely. I can give you a massage in your bed if you like…

I looked at him in amazement. It was the first time I heard him talking to me like this; no toughness, no selfishness, no introversion.  He was normal, unusually normal, surprisingly normal. It was weird.

 – You’ve never talked to me like this before Greg. You sound like you have feelings.

  – Of course, I do. You just never listen. All you care is my cock.

 – Of course, I love your cock.

 – Is this the only thing you care about? – He kept staring at the TV screen.

  – Are your kids ok?

Yes

 – How is Emy?

 – My wife is fine.

 – Is there anything I can do to help?

 – Yes, sit here and be quiet.

 – Ok, – I shrugged my shoulders. It was late, the TV show was stupid, his behavior was strange.

 – How are you dealing with her panic attacks, Vixen?

Wow, he never inquired about my wellbeing before. I could not believe my ears.

– Struggling.

 – You should start taking medications.

 – No, – I kept looking into the TV screen in fear that once I glance at him, he will shut down, and turn into the Greg I had always known – tough and unbreakable, cold-mind and hot cock.  – I am not taking any meds, my dear. It is the sign of weakness. I am strong.

Bullshit, I took meds before, they helped a lot.

 – How?

 – I had to use Sertraline to function when my mom passed away.

 – I am sorry about that.

 – Watch TV, be quiet.

I suddenly realized the Greg I used to know never existed. The image of the cool and tough guy with no feelings and constant erection collapsed, I finally saw the real person, vulnerable, insecure, with a bunch of complexes carefully hidden behind silence, surgical cleanliness, and the desire to bend others and toss them after like used paper napkins.

I stood up ready to go to sleep. I needed some rest prior another work day.

Wait, where are you going? – he kept watching the show.

Bedtime.

 – I want you here with me, – he was still talking to the TV screen not bothering to look in my direction.

Unfold the bed, and I will sleep here.

 – What?

 – It’s a pull-out couch, it converts to a sleeper.

I was watching him struggling with dragging the bed frame down to the floor when I returned from the bedroom with pillow cases and a comforter. My perception changed, he was a human being, smelling like steak and steamed vegetables, waiting for another promotion, arguing with his wife about disciplining the children, and fighting his belly fat. Feeling his hands all over me while falling asleep that night was different. He was neither better nor worse than anyone else; the magic was gone, he felt and tasted real, just live and real. It was the new Greg, the one I had never had a chance to get to know before, the Greg that had nothing to do with the picture that was previously created in my head.