There’s no Booday today. My heart isn’t in it.

No boobs from me today; Boobday will be back next Friday.  If I took a picture of my breasts, all I’d see was a broken heart somehow being mocked.  Only by using my body with my lover do I feel better.  Sharing an image seems rude and callous.  Icky.

I don’t know much more than I did the other day except that perhaps she was keeping much bigger secrets than any one group of friends could ever know.  However, she left little crumbs of despair.  Everywhere.  But like only one little ant, it seemed so inconsequential when you saw it, except in reality she had a mountain of them teeming within her.  And no one fucking knew.

I’ve kept this news of my dear friend limited to those who knew her, The Neighbor, my mother, and you, my Internet Boyfriend.  Funny how that works.  I’m grateful for all of you and your kind words.  I would hug each of you tightly in return if I could.  I feel blessed to have you in my orbit.

I requested a “savage fuck” today from TN.  I didn’t want tender.  I wanted body slamming blows to punch away my sadness, hair pulling to cause a different kind of tear, a spank to illicit a different kind of sob.  He delivered and I have the marks on me to gaze upon and smile sadly. It felt good and I felt alive and not a little guilty.

I’ve thought of her every hour since I got the news, sometimes more.  I feel frozen and helpless and void of thought and words.  It’s already all done and there’s nothing I can do.  It’s just over.  Like the end of a record, only the end came because someone dropped a goddamned Volkswagen Beetle on it, not because it hit finally ended on the center.

The chaos of her death makes me feel unraveled and adrift.  I would certainly be doing something asinine with my body if it weren’t for my love next door.  If you don’t believe me read the archives starting on October 2nd, 2010 and ending August 13th, 2012.  I use sex to mourn to live to numb.  And a partner-less Hyacinth hunts it down with determination.

I gave up looking for someone other than the partner I had next door some time in November of last year and we have grown closer each day ever since.  What a novel idea to calm myself and focus on one man for a change whether he wanted me to or not.  And today, I know he wants me to.

God… what a fucking waste.  I don’t get master plans or destiny or fate or any of that bullshit.  I only know we live, we grow, we die in any number of fashions and some of them jarring and distasteful.  I just wish I could catch my breath on this one.  I feel like the sucker punch will never go away.

 

 

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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18 thoughts on “There’s no Booday today. My heart isn’t in it.
  1. It’s been 7 years since my cousin died of an overdose – a different kind of suicide, really – and sometimes I feel the sucker punch still. But most of the time I don’t; I can just think of him fondly instead of with despair. I hope very much that it doesn’t take seven years for you.

    Grief is such a personal thing, Hy. There’s no right or wrong way to do it. The only way to the other side is through. We’ll be here as you make your way.

    1. You are absolutely right, Anisa, grief is personal. And it’s weird. I’ve grieved before and was shocked at its course. I still grieve about that one (my father), for Christ’s sake. As I often say, trauma never leaves us, we never “get over it,” we just learn to manage it, incorporate it into our weave, so to speak. I don’t like this thread, though, but I don’t have a choice. I have to use it.

  2. Once again, thank you for this trust in your IBF. We will be here for you, and I send my love to you.

    I’m so glad you have TN to help you process this.

  3. Hy,

    Take it one day, one minute whatever you need at a time. This year has taught me for sure that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger as well as how precious life is.
    Big Hugs,
    B

  4. Kittens, Hy. Kittens.
    I understand all too well, and in the past hour of typing and deleting comments on the subject, I have remembered that I don’t like to think about it.
    Wish i could give you a hug.
    Take care, you.

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