Originally posted in August on another site that doesn’t keep dates of when things were posted. Playing catch up.
“I’m giddy. You’re my first sub. Of course I told them. I was bursting with joy.”
I smile at domlyskirts’ messages to me as I snuggle in their arms, trying to soothe me after the rattling I took yesterday. She goes on while I spend the time thinking.
Domlyskirts may be 8 hours away by timezones, but they’ve been there for me for the better part of two and a half years, almost as long as I knew him.
Yes, that him.
The him that abandoned me. Domlypants.
When you have a submissive who admits to a HUGE abandonment issue, the last thing you should do is stop talking to them. One text a day. That was all I begged him to do, and he promised me he would. He lasted forty days, back in February. If he had sent me a message before disappearing, saying he’d be out of contact, none of this would have happened.
He showed up in facebook first, sending me a long winded message.
You better fucking believe I want proof! “I was in the hospital with what I thought was a heart attack…”
What about all the other days? A month… a fucking month… and barely any contact. A FUCKING MONTH! My phone says he last texted me July 27th. It was August 25 when he contacted me again.
A month of anxiety. Of bad self-talk. Of believing I was never good enough for him. Cause if I was, he would have reached out to me.
A month of heart ache. A month where I got pushed and shoved and spent living in a fog. A month of “did I do the right thing?” A month of “he never wanted me.” A month of begging him by text to contact me.
A month of friends talking me out of stupid, of Domlyskirts wrapping her arms around me and listening to my heart break and shatter to tiny shards. A month where I could not breathe because the smoke from the fires here were so intense, we couldn’t see a half mile away. Domlyskirts even sent me a cloth mask to try to filter out the smoke. I keep that in my big purse now. A month, where I thought I was worthless, and unloved. A month with Domlyskirts, and her people, trying to prove to me I had a place with all of them and was loved.
He appears out of thin air, yesterday, sending me that message. Then, in the group I’ve been running for him. “Ahhhh… Not so fast. I’m back. :P” he says, in the thread about finding a new owner. Then silence again.
I am going to argue with the caretakers that he’s not worthy to stay an admin because of his past history. That group is far too busy to deal with a half-assed admin. It needs people who are active because of all the money seeking bots that show up.
Domlyskirts saw my reply and tried to get me to calm down. She couldn’t. She tried. But she couldn’t. My chest hurt. I took a baby aspirin because even if I don’t need it, it won’t hurt me. I stood up and the fringes of my vision went black, most of it went grey. I had to either go to the hospital or go to sleep.
I chose sleep. It didn’t help. I was up a few hours later and then back down for another sleep. Hours after that, domlyskirts and I are cuddling, which is where this started.
“You scared me yesterday, my dollie,” the voice is soft in between my ears. “I was worried for you. Take it easy. I’ll see you at midnight. I’m here for you, and the others if they need me. We’ll put that heart back together for you, no matter how many shards it’s in. It’s safe now, in my workshop.”
With a kiss, Domlyskirts logs for a few hours. I think they’re contemplating trancing me again.
I get some time to think… Yes, I still love the dufous, but two messages and then silence again does not a return make. My chest is still hurting. I will need to keep on taking baby aspirin for days until things calm down again.
DId I mention that there’s a pair of glitter bombed thong underwear on their way to domlypants? He needs a pair of big girl panties, so I sent him an old thong I had for him to wear!
*Footnote: Domlyskirts is better known as Supermarine Spitfire