My ex-boyfriend finally moved his stuff out of the apartment this evening.
I broke up with him because he was emotionally abusive and had started threatening physical abuse. I know I made the right decision.
But, now, here in this half empty apartment…I feel so damn alone, so hopeless. I thought I’d feel better…
Jag talar inte svenska. I’m learning and it seemed appropriate. I don’t even know if any of that’s correct.
I don’t know who I am, like living in a stranger’s body..thinking a stranger’s thoughts. I’m digging myself deeper into this hole and it’s time to stop.
I need to figure it out. I need to know who I am, what I want, where I lost it…
I’m not comfortable fully giving into my submissive side until I have figured it out. I can’t because I refuse to be the girl on the bathroom floor, praying for death, again.
All I know, is that somewhere along the line, it became part of me…the harder I tried to push it away, the stronger it pulled.
But I don’t know…I don’t know how to figure myself out again. I feel panicked and isolated and not quite..right. How do I figure it out?
My coworkers think I bite my lip when I’m deep in concentration… of course, I let them think that. They don’t need to know that I’m really thinking about… collars and blindfolds and belts and… being fucked hard, a hand around my throat… pretty red marks on my pale skin… tied… helpless… begging for release.
I love that on the outside I appear calm, collected and so perfectly focused but no one can see the subtle clenching of my thighs under my desk. No one can see me squirm ever so slightly when a particularly enticing thought crosses my mind.
It’s my favorite part about my life. No one has any idea.
Today hasn’t been a bad day. I took half a day off work, attended a cousin’s wedding and now I’m home..alone.
Part of me enjoys the solitude, but part of me is so fucking lonely that it physically hurts.
Once upon a time, there was a dark and gloomy cloud that followed a sad, frustrated little Stella around everywhere she went.
Today, she unleashed her fiercest growl and showed that dark cloud who was in charge.
Being fresh out of a shitty relationship, I’d like to make it clear that I’m not truly in the market for a new relationship. I created profiles on some major dating websites, under my real identity, as a bit of a social experiment: What happens when one is honest about their submissive side?
Long story short, it was sooooo bad I deleted all of the profiles within a few days. It’s like some men, typically vanilla, see the words kinky or submissive and assume easy or slutty.
“I see you’re submissive. I bet you’d really like to suck my cock.”
A real quote, unfortunately. I blocked him because I just couldn’t reply to such stupidity. No, random dude, I wouldn’t like to have your cock anywhere near me or my mouth…ever. You mean nothing to me.
I’ve never felt like this before in my life. I’m alone, but I just want to lash out at someone… anyone. So much anger, I can feel it in my blood.
Fuck you for not listening to me.
I want… need… someone to hate.
“It’s like during our entire fucking relationship, you were in love with someone else.”
I drunkenly reached out to him. HIM. At my sister’s wedding. And used the best man to help me forget. Drunk Stella, desperate Stella… broken Stella.
“Let’s dance a little…”
It’s pathetic really. In case you’re wondering, he didn’t reply because he can’t. I blocked him as soon as I realized what I’d done.
I’m just so angry. All the time. Angry that I moved farther into the frozen tundra, for nothing! Angry that I have any negative feelings at all… because, why!? Stella with her perfectly boring job and her perfectly mediocre apartment has no reason to complain.
I get myself into these ridiculous situations and then get pissed when I don’t know how to navigate them. Boo fucking hoo. I’m so angry, but I don’t even feel sorry for myself half the time.