Statepalace
Posts: 185
Joined: 9/20/2007 Status: offline
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The experience has not been all bad, however. I did get some really positive things out of it. Last Thursday I had an epiphany, and yeah, it was because of the gas. Here I am driving, really sad, thinking about how unhappy I am with the prospect of having to wear latex every day. It is NOT the experience I thought it was going to be. Not in any way, shape or form. It's hot, I itch, it makes weird air noises when you move, and there is butt sweat. I'm really sad, and kind of scared. I don't want to tell Him that something He did made me unhappy - especially a Valentine's Day present, and out first one at that. Having me wear latex every day sucks. I'm doing it, I'm submitting, but I don't think He wanted me to loathe it so much. I was thinking to myself that the intention was probably to have me feel slutty and self-conscious, not fat, itchy and sweaty. NONE of these things are what I want to tell Him. NONE of them. I want to tell Him about how my hips swayed in the sexy new lingerie that He bought me, about how I love wearing them and how they make me feel naughty and slutty. They don't, but I want to tell Him that. I have this strong urge to "make it right", to pretend and give Him what I think He wants, which is me feeling slutty and naughty. I think He wants this, and I am not feeling it, so have terrible guilt and sadness about disappointing Him. I feel that I have disappointed Him by not reacting in the way He wanted. I feel sad that I've "ruined" His present by not liking wearing it all day. Dishonest or not, I am running through a list of reasons NOT to tell Him. Thinking of ways to lie about the situation. Really upset because I am upset, and I don't want Him to get mad at me because something He did made me unhappy. Then I remember - that doesn't happen with Him. I don't have to be scared of His reaction to me not liking wearing latex all day, because His ego is not so fragile as to be threatened by something so silly and inconsequential. I don't have to make everything right by lying and saying I am fine. I don't have to hide the fact that I'm sad, or scared, or unhappy. I really, really don't have to do that. I don't have that responsibility. I am not the one that bears the full weight of a man's emotional state, so must always pretend that everything is perfect. What a change. At 3:37 last Thursday, I really "got" that, not just mentally understood but somewhere deep inside I really believed it. It was worth the miserable experience.
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And if I cease to desire and remain still, the empire will be at peace of its own accord
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