The Between Time
Sometimes it is hard living in two houses, loving two men, being with one only by being separated from the other. It is hardest on nights like these, when Ad goes to bed at 8:30 or 9:00 and W is doing whatever he does at his house during the 8pm – 12am timeframe, something which doesn’t include being on the computer, answering email, chatting or playing Lex with me; and I am left alone.
If I was more disciplined I would write one of the bazillon blog posts I have floating around in my head. And maybe tonight I actually would, if the new domain was up. I am to the point where I barely want to write here or on APL, because I know it is only a stopgap before I move on. In my heart I already have moved on, and I am just killing time here. I want to be there, in my new internet home, a home I am building myself, from my own vision, designing, creating and decorating–but which is not finished yet. Not yet ready to move into, or to open up to the neighbors. And tonight I can’t even work on building it, because my IT guy is doing technical maintenance, so I don’t even have that to occupy my time, my mind, my thoughts.
I am so very bad at being alone.
Part of this–most of it–stems from the fact that Ad’s and W’s schedules are so very opposite and so I can never get settled into one or the other. My work schedule mirrors Ad’s, at least partially: he gets up way earlier, 4:30am or so for sex or self-gratification, 5am out of bed; I don’t have to wake til 7am if I don’t have to take the Boychild to school. But my internal schedule is much closer to W’s, again, partially: he stays awake til 1 or 2am and I am ready for sleep by 11 if I have to be up at 7am, 12 if I can sleep til 8. The difference is, if I am at W’s, that time between 9 or 10 and 11 or 12 (or even 1 or 2) is either hanging out talking or play time. Here…it’s alone-time. And did I mention? I hate being alone.
Combine that tonight with really starting to get the “I need a good knock-down-beating” angst, and that makes for a very unhappy, pissy Jade.
Yeah, I crave it. I want it. I need it. Get over it.
I am a pissy girl right now. A pushy, petulant bottom that wants to be put in her place. Taken down. Dominated, used, abused, hurt, dragged down and subjugated. And it just ain’t gonna happen.
I wrote a really petulant email to W a few minutes ago. It was so temperamental and bitchy that I had to delete it. It’s not his fault I am here alone. It’s not his job to amuse me or be around during the Between Time. I wish he didn’t like being alone too–but he’s himself and I can’t hold that against him.
Except, sometimes, I do.
Like now when I want to be there, when I want to be begging him to please hurt me…or to please stop hurting me. Whichever. (Well, no, I’d rather be begging him to stop, I’m still not that comfortable asking for it, it still doesn’t feel as good, as right, as it does when it comes from him, but sometimes…I just gotta put that aside and ask, because the physical is better than nothing at all.)
Did I mention? I hate being alone.