He told me it’s over.

I won’t even go into the roller coaster that’s occurred over the last few days, but needless to say, I raged and ranted and screamed at his deception, his carelessness with my feelings.

He apologized, but stuck to his guns: he doesn’t love me and can’t be with me in any capacity without feeling those things.

We talked for hours, he cried some more, I balled. I told him a tale of a time I felt so desperate and lonely I cut myself. And then, after he left, after that last hug and squeeze and tear, all I could think of was those manicure scissors and I slashed and slashed at the breasts he loves so much. FUCK HIM.

Don’t feel badly for me. Don’t preach to me. We all have valves through which we release and this was it for me. So save it. Don’t tell me not to do this to myself because I feel better about these marks on my body than anything else I’m feeling on my soul right now.

It’s over.

He said, “NO.”

Numb.

A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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65 thoughts on “He told me it’s over.
  1. I don’t have words for you. This has been such a bad week. Thank you for the update and the picture. Yes, it is horrible, but I am so glad that that was all the cutting you needed. Will you need to do more later?

    I know my words aren’t enough, but I’ll say them anyway: I love you dearly my friend.

      1. All pain has priority.

        I don’t know how much of your brain is in a “what if” state, or if you are just blank. But, as far as doing things differently, I think you are in great shape. Widely varied ideas were presented persistently for months. The commenters already put you through all the “what if” scenarios. It’s already done, and I think everybody is agreement that you made really good choices. I do anyway.

        I am picturing you with puppy snuggled at your side in your bed. You deserve every bit of comfort possible. And my silly words are empty.

      2. I’ve been thinking of you all day. I am editing myself down to that sentence. My happy but odd thought of the day, was wondering if I could call up BiModal to sex you up for the week your child is on vacation. Men can’t be called up like a taxi, but that stray thought made sense for a moment and made me happy. I’ve also been working on my blood thirsty tendencies, so when you are ready to entertain yourself with fantasies, I have some ideas going.

        The hard thing about bad things that happen is that the world goes on, life goes on and it’s not right. Anyway, all this is to let you know my world stopped with you for today. I am grieving with you.

        1. Oh, Dawn, thank you so much. I am beyond humbled that anyone would care about this. My post seems almost caricature-like now, but, there you have it. It’s basically 24 whffle hours since we ended it and I managed to survive it. You were here to witness it. Bcc

  2. I won’t be preachy and I won’t pity you. But please clean up the wounds? From someone who has had an infection from self-inflicted wounds, I am just asking out of care for you. I am sorry for your pain though, and sorry to see you in pain, because I care for you. That’s all.

    xoxo

  3. I know there is nothing we can do, nothing we can say, that will truly ease your agony. We will be here, we care, and yes, you will get through it. . One hour, one day at a time. Sometimes love is really shitty

    Mike

  4. Damn, so sorry you had to go through this. I know and you know that you’ll end up in a much better place. It just sucks that that’s the way this shit often goes – you go through hell before you find happiness… take care

  5. I completely understand the gesture of cutting yourself. The urge to trash something is overwhelming at a time like this. Your solution may be better than mine: I destroy things that can’t heal!

    Sending you good thoughts and *hugs*

  6. Nothing I say can lift you out of that hole yet but you’re not the only one to have felt this pain and you won’t be the last. Just know, you will make it out and I’m sitting right out there waiting for you. The black hole in my chest has subsided and yours will too.
    .
    Now, go get some Maderma and Vitamin E : )

  7. as sexually liberated women, we fuck; that’s just we do…we can casually suck a random dick in a car or pull up our skirt and let a blind date fuck us in a bathroom stall, as easily as other women buy shoes…it’s just in our nature, and we feel no remorse or guilt…and all these men can come and go and we never bat an eyelash…
    but we are not fuck machines, as much as we like to think that we are…as sexual and carnal as we can be, that passion we have for the flesh does not exist on a solitary plane without emotional passion bubbling underneath the surface, hidden somewhere in the deep recesses that we have pushed it into…
    but unbeknownst to us, it escapes at some point; little by little, at unguarded moments…who knows why a particular man, amongst all the cocks we fuck and suck, inspires the side of us that we fought so hard to minimize, to come back to the surface…and of all the men, this man is probably the least deserving of it; yet, it doesn’t change the fact that it is, what it is…
    it isn’t for anyone else to understand or accept…it is our battle, our struggle, alone…i can not judge you, as you cannot judge me…your pain is just that, yours,alone…
    i know the road in front of you, without him seems dark and twisted, and it is hard to see the light at the end of it; i have been there, walking my own for the last two months without mike, and i’m not going to lie; it has been an arduous journey, at best…but i walk it nonetheless because it is all i can do…just one foot in front of the other, and trying hard to remember to breathe…
    and that my dear hy, is all you can expect out of yourself right now: one foot in front of the other, and breathe…

  8. If you fill yourself with man, what room is there for Hy?
    You should go on a vacation, someplace with peace and quiet. Being a quasi-hippie, I am always one to recommend nature. It doesn’t judge, it doesn’t accept and it doesn’t reject, it can sustain and it can kill, depending on the circumstances. It simply is what it is. People, on the other hand, have a tendency to confuse themselves and others as to what their purpose is. I still stand by what I said. You are not dissolute. And the title of your blog is an incomplete statement. The subtitle is little more than a definition of dissolute, and has little do with what a dissolute life means. It means a struggle. I hope for something better, and you have certainly indicated that you do too. This outcome would make me feel guilty for wishing you would find love, but I don’t. And I would preach, but I prefer to think of it as making intelligent recommendations. Find love, but if you fill yourself with man, what room is there for Hy?
    That can mean whatever you want it to mean. Abstain or fuck like a rabbit, just be comfortable in your own skin, and be careful. And easy on the self-mutilation, you’re going to make me fucking cry here. I am aware that pleasure and pain are closely related, but those who flip that coin too much are playing a game with a far sketchier outcome.
    I also recommend good dark chocolate. None of that Hershey’s shit.

      1. Nice boob, by the way. Would look nicer without the blood though.
        People without scars, be they physical or emotional, or usually just pretenders, or people who have repressed or blocked their pain. You’re showing yours off to the world. You’re no pretender, you are the real deal. Stay true and struggle on. I only wish you could get away from this guy. That will present a challenge, I’ll bet.
        And Hershey’s is shit. I found this one kind, Theo’s, and oh my crap is it good. There’s coconut curry, and one called bread and chocolate, which is dark with little bits of something like caramelized french bread. Wow is it good.

          1. That was probably a terrible attempt at humor for someone going through a tough time. It’s hard to care for the blog character and the real person. I wish I could give you a hug, Hy. Or something. Anything, really. Your troubles make me feel a little helpless here. Sorry for my sense of humor. It’s my own defense mechanism to try and make light of things that bother the shit out of me. A common male thing, I think. Men have stupid ways of showing they care at times.

  9. I’m sorry Hy. I won’t condone the cutting, but I don’t have a choice there. I don’t like hearing about you hurting, I just hope you start feeling better soon. Reach out if you need to, you know how.

    1. I don’t want you to condone, just didn’t want lectures. I know it’s not a good way to deal with things.

      And, yes, I know how. You’re too kind.

  10. I am very sorry for your pain. Hope the self-inflicted wounds will heal soon, and the emotional pains you are going through will guide you to a place (and maybe man) you deserve.

  11. Just started reading a few days ago and I am so sad that you’re going through all this. I know you’ll come out I just hate the journey through the pain. I second the chocolate <3

    1. Me too. I was just thinking how Fridays were our night together. I squeaked through mine with the help of Downstairs Neighbor. He was alone. I hate this.

      1. Don’t ask me why I feel like telling you this, because I don’t know but my senior year in high school, I had to smoke in the garage (or outside, but I built this cozy smoking nest in the garage…) and every day, I would smoke a bit, burn a small hole in my leg a bit, until eventually it was a big infected hole in my leg and I had to go to the hospital. Your photo (and your suffering) reminded me of that time. I have a scar that reminds me as well, but the relief of mental pain through physical pain I had blocked out I guess. We are odd creatures, aren’t we?

        Like I always tell you, at least you have neighbors. Bad joke. I’m inadequate in these situations. I can tell you I wish I was there to give you a big-ass hug, but if I was really there I doubt I would be of any use.

        Je t’aime,
        Dawn

  12. Dearest Hy
    It seems that many of the, yes, important women in my life are in turmoil just now.
    I am so saddened for you that TN blew it and turned you upside down. I’m sure he will come to regret it more than you do. Too late, buddy!
    He does not have all the love ‘out here’ that you do. You have a whole team supporting you, wanting you to be whole again, to recover, to be happy. Or, at least, not hurt so damned much.
    Its funny, in your teens and twenties, you don’t realise that later in your life it will still hurt, that the heart will still bleed when a love fails. Maybe even more so than before as you understand more deeply.
    Remember those times, remember how bad the earlier ‘you’ felt. And remember most of all that you came through and found some good times. You survived, and I, for one, like very much the person that came through.
    This morning I was picking through the debris of Gillian’s flight to freedom, another great loss but one I’m sure we all applaud and encourage. She had posted this song at Black Door Press. It seemed slightly appropriate for you, too, even if its not quite miserable enough to fit your mood just now;-)

    Lots of *hugs* (being careful to be gentle)
    Nick

    1. Nick, I feel especially lucky to have you all to support me. It wasn’t the reason I started blogging, but what a pleasant surprise.

      My best friend has failed me — she declined coming over both Thursday and Friday nights (she was tired); I had a newer friend over for a few hours yesterday, but she’d only met TN once before and never knew about us. I didn’t want to cry with her; Downstairs Neighbor, however, came through. He bought me wine and smokes and spent time with me making me laugh on my balcony. He still has no idea my heartbreak is over TN and so we watched together the shadows move from TN closing his porch blinds.

      My heart broke thinking that normally he’d have popped his head out, seen us, and come over.

      I told DN all my feelings and all I said, everything TN told me. He said it sounded like he loved me. He’s as confused as I am.

      I hope TN doesn’t think I’m ok. DN made me laugh loudly several times.

      Anyway, another long day ahead of me… thank you again, and don’t worry, I’ll be ok. So will my boobs.

      1. Let TN think you are fine. That will really tell him he is missing out, surplus to requirements, not central to you.
        He does not deserve you.
        Far less, you don’t need his sympathy, or him, in your life.
        Ok, you do. But not really.
        xxx

  13. I don’t even want to think of the feelings you’ll have living right next to him and going through this. He just closed the blinds… stab to my gut. Those kinds of reactions that would stab my gut – heart – sense of reason – have shifted in perspective a bit. The glaring loss has put shadows to the hurt in areas so I can see reasons why it wouldn’t have been as great as it felt. I can see now where the problems or issues would have popped up.
    Imagine if he said to you, OK, I’ll try it Hy. You’d be ecsatic until the month he looked sideways at your kid, and you knew he wasn’t wholehearted in having a child but the sneaky poison of it would come out when you would recognize how he treated your child. If TN wired to have boundaries, lists, or discipline to keep his life in order, his feelings will follow suit, no? I’m just trying to lighten up your darkness with reasoning. It hardly ever works without separation and distance from a hurtful event though. Go get a pedicure and manicure or a massage – something to pamper yourself.

  14. I came across this note. I know you have a lot of people who are supporting and helping, trying to get you through this, but this one struck me as a nicer alternative to all those people who are yelling at you not to hurt yourself any more.
    http://januaryseraph.tumblr.com/#!/post/26822537927
    I guess the only thing now is that you are going to ask me what am I doing trawling the blog of a dominatrix in San Francisco…

    *hugs*

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