Sometimes I write fiction. It's not something I do because I want people to comment on it, so I do it anonymously on a blog that is not connected with me in any traceable way. What I write usually originates from something that's going on in my head, and I guess that's part of the reason why I don't want it to be read by people who will read to much into it or interpret it as anything other than fiction.
This evening I had a conversation that led me onto the track of wanting to post one of my old texts. The below was written in February 2008, and although the words themselves are fictional they were based on my state of mind at the time, which in a way has strong similarities with my current one. As an experiment I'll upload it here, to see how I feel about people I know possibly interpreting it wrongly. The title of this post is from When U Find Someone by Ken Stringfellow (Soft Commands, 2004), and the last line of the below text is from the same song, and my all time favorite lyric quote. I've taken the text down from my fiction blog to disable cross-referencing. Enough loitering, here goes:
Strong, independent women are we. Never shall we bow to the will of a man, of any man. We shall overcome all the hardships sent our way and prove ourselves in the world of testosterone and facial hair. But what do we gain in losing our femininity? What has women won by growing ever more like men?
He doesn't really know me, this one. He's drawn to me because of my strength, the prospect of someone who'll keep him in line ties him to me and he's not ashamed of it. Sometimes he tells me, "I'm not much for making decisions, so we'll just do whatever you want.", or "It's so sexy when women take charge.". So sexy it hurts.
The last time he left me, I cried. I managed to wait until he was out the door, but he knew I was sad. He just didn't want to see it, so he kissed me on the cheek and hurried out the door and out to the waiting taxi that would take him to the airport and far away from me. I was too female right then, too fragile. He told me once, "I hate it when you cry. It makes me feel powerless, in a way I've not chosen myself.". He likes that I am strong and that I control him, but only because it is his choice.
I will see him again in a matter of hours, and I know this will be the last time. He has drawn away from me, little by little, starting to understand that I am not the tower of impenetrable steel he first thought. Frightened that I will come to rely on his presence or his love, not wanting to be the caretaker. Self-imposed emotional emasculation.
So I will take the lead again. I'll walk him through three days of impatient sex without holding back and without showing emotion. And when I leave, for it is my turn to travel this time, I will wait until I am out the door before I cry. I do not love him, but I so long to be in his shoes.
Show me your strengths, and I'll show you what surrender can be.
May
6 years ago
