Hi, I'm electronic doll. And I have a boy problem.
Turning the events of last weekend over in my mind now that I'm a little more able to express them without just repeatedly typing the words "I am an idiot" over and over again.
Friday evening. Happy and high from a small but perfectly formed play session with Mannequin, I unexpectedly happened upon Dandy playing intently with a roped-up submissive. I reacted by telling him to "fuck off" then storming out the building leaving confused friends in my wake.
The trouble wasn't what had just happened on the night, although it was an unpleasant surprise. It was my own understanding of where we were, and how my hopes and expectations caused miscommunication. The day before we'd had a classic "let's be friends" conversation. I explained my frustrations over lack of play and how I was having to quash and control my nascent feelings for him. He was clearly very unhappy and dealing with the emotional fallout from his previous relationship. We then discussed how he didn't want sex, intimacy or play or really any human contact beyond a hug. We hugged, we held hands. Then (crucially) we kissed, which broke all the circuits created by our conversation.
I'll admit to being confused. I'll also admit that my feelings for him meant that I probably erred on the optimistic "he actually wants me really" side rather than the "that was just a kiss" side. I let myself believe what I wanted to believe. I allowed myself to be let down. I do it a lot. We've talked since and cleared the air, although the hangover of feelings remains and I'm waiting for it to die down.
In the meantime, I have a problem. It's a very specific boy problem. I have always had it and probably always will. There is no known cure, and it can cause the world of difficulties on the kinky circuit: I get attached. Easily. To certain kinds of boys.
Here's how it works. I know that the person I will settle down with, for love and for keeps, is going to be male. It will also be one person - although we might chose to be open I know that emotionally I am not poly. The problem only occurs if I am single and available. If I already have a specific partner who fits my parameters or if I'm still feeling sore over the loss of a previous one, then, swan-like, I won't be interested in forming a serious bond with another until the feelings for them have faded.
I have a very particular type that clicks very strongly. I know them by their smell, I can track them down the street. Dandy falls squarely into that type. One of my long-term exes met at him and said "It's like looking in a mirror." At least I'm consistent. Something about them screams in my hind brain as being right for me and I need to have them. They are quite rare - to date I've met four or five - which might account for the ferocity of my response when I do find them.
When it happens, it happens. I can feel it happening. There's usually a point where I can back off, but generally, I don't, because that would be going everything that I want to do right there and then. And I'm only flesh and blood. So we fuck, or in certain instances, a kiss is enough. And it happens. Chemical reaction. Magic. Physical desire and lust at first but it will blossom into something else if allowed to do so. It will become a beautiful thing. If it can.
But if those feelings have nowhere to go I will get angry and frustrated. This is when it become really ugly. This is where I stop being rational and start to need very clear rules of engagement or the part of me that is deeply animal, into territorial pissing and obstinately uncivilised will get very angry. This is where D/s helps, actually, because it means I can sit down and agree with them what we are doing, how often and where. As long as there is clarity, I can manage. And this is how The Photographer and I mediated our relationship. And also how it broke down, because the weight of what I wanted was too much for what he had to give.
Rightly or wrongly, I size this sort of man (more than other men, and more than women) up as future partners. And I do not want to share them emotionally. This means that there is more stress, more pressure on my interactions with them. More capacity for emotional investment and, when it goes wrong, for unhappiness. Sometimes I despair a little because it makes life difficult and complicated. However, it is just how I am and frankly, can't be helped. It's also the side of me that makes me passionate, energised and, eventually, when it works, deeply, wholly and utterly in love.
I'm now firmly in an "off phase" at the moment, sulking and glowering a little until I've sorted myself out from this latest failure. It will fade, I know. And there will be others, I know. Especially with the Spring weather wrapping itself around my heart and my cunt in such a way that each bouncing step is getting nearer and nearer to a predator's click on the pavement.