Can anyone be too attached? Can an owner of something, someone, be far too dependent on their possessions?
These questions plague me. Family, friends, and the community in my private life keep telling me how my codependency isn’t healthy, that I shouldn’t be this affected. I’m reminded that I need to learn to stand on my own this year and how it is a silly thing to be utterly broken with him gone.
His service to me is so different than what I’m used to with other people. It’s almost as if he were an an emotional support animal, one that happens to be human. One who wants me to chain, cage, beat, degrade, and fuck him stupid. It’s confusing to so many people in my life why he is so important to me and to not be able to feel his touch aches me.
My depression, even with medication, is in full swing. All I wish to do is sleep and cry. To eat my pain, but no amount of food could fill the void inside me. No amount of anything can satisfy my lust for his skin. It’s like being thirsty and no matter how much you drink nothing can quench it. I know that it isn’t forever and I understand why he has to be away, but why do people think that any of these reasons can keep the coldness from settling in?
This vast emptiness that threatens to swallow me whole suffocates me in a room full of air and no means to breathe.
Do my words hurt him? Do I dare show him how badly I’m broken? What possible good could it do? How does showing my weaknesses to the world help at all? How does it benefit my boy to let him know how badly I’m hurting without him?
I can be strong. Brave. I can put on my good face for the day and if it cracks I’ll just add more glue to keep up appearances… but when he’s at work, or I’m alone again, the mask shatters and I have to try to keep the pieces close so I can glue it back together for the next performance. Day after day, night after night.
“How are you Eiren?” The answer is always simple.
Now I change the subject, I don’t want to talk about how I am.
If I gave a true answer, I’m not sure how many of the people who want to support me would still be there. No one wants to hear how bad that I’m hurting, and I don’t blame them.
Let’s try again: “How are you Eiren?”
I’m downing in my own thoughts, I’m breathless and aching, I’m bruised, battered and broken…
I need my boy, I need to touch him, I need sex, to be filled, slapped, fucked. I need to cry.
I desperately want to use every part of his body to hurt him just as much as I hurt. I want to cook and cuddle him, smothered in kisses as we lay in our sexual aftermath. His heart fluttering, mine beating slow.
I miss my boy.