I say adios or farewell or, if leaving for a long time or permanently, I say Walk in beauty

I prefer flowery romantic language to plain words; Your eyes shine like the heavens rather than your eyes are pretty; I’m not setting you on a pedestal.

I believe that each word has a emotional and logical spin to it. Using the correct words in the correct sequence has a beauty all it’s own.

I’m in love with beauty;  which is not to say pretty things or some ideal but someone or something that can effect me emotionally;  anything that does i consider beautiful;

I fall in love quickly, because I see the flaws and strained lines in each person I choose to associate with and those are beautiful;

I care deeply and quickly.  I don’t expect those feelings to be returned;
I just hope that it does not push people away or scare them

I am 100% capable of letting those people exit my life; I won’t stop caring because they do. Unless they betrayed me, but that is a whole other thing.

I read genre fiction and various non-fiction, about a book a week on average; so called  literature leaves me cold;

My taste in music is wide and far reaching;  Instrumentation only pieces (classical, new age, metal, etc), Full Band, Singer/songwriter;  I prefer that you write your own lyrics if not music;  And if you have lyrics then I want to be able to understand them (as in hear them over the music) ;  if I can’t, your instrumentation better be unfuckingbelivable or I’m out;

If you can and do, give and receive, sober consent then have at it, may it bring you joy.

I prefer the truth if the answer is personal and interesting if the answer is not; Is it likely that gnomes are stealing my socks?  No, but its more interesting that noting that the missing sock is inside a pair of pants that I have not worn in awhile; So I’ll go with that; Espousing an interesting lie as fact is not the same as believing it to be fact though I do believe in some pretty bizarre things;  may be safer to just ask for clarification.

I prefer dark clothing. I don’t wear jewelry because I’m allergic to most metal, yes even hypoallergenic titanium; I have fashion sense but I don’t really use it on myself;

I see the physical body as a tool to be used,  not a thing to be worshiped;  though I have worshiped a persons desires  and pleasures through the medium of their body.  I find pleasure in their pleasure, within limits. Though admittedly my limits are probably not the norm for most societies. Though, I imagine, some societies would find my limits confining; I am not always successful in this regard.

I write this to try to understand who I am. I post it to make sure it’s honest. It is a reminder of who I am in my better moments. As this calm, cool me slides, inexorably, into depression.

Warning to anyone who knows me personally. This is going to be, perhaps, a TMI post.

This is about my sexual history. Because I am trying to date now and I’m both insecure and apprehensive about this. Because my views and experience seem to indicate that I should be better, more practiced than is reality.

So, my first. I was youngish. Older than most men like to claim. I was 20, she was 18. I came, she didn’t. The relationship that spawned this coupling did not last much beyond this. I wish I had some great or interesting story but alas…

So not a learning experience and little to show for it. I’m sure it was a bland nothing for her as well. In fact, now that I’m thinking about it, that’s why we didn’t hang out further. “You’re boring” I believe she said. It’s odd what you remember.

Moving on, nothing for awhile. Until I met “Sarah. She was the emotional center of my life. She introduced me to kink. I wasn’t a stranger to it. Even from a young age the idea of whips in a sexual context fascinated. But she was both experienced at it and needed it.

Her kink was pain. There was some branching into other areas but it all circled back to that. Many people like a little pain with their pleasure, in the heat of the moment. This was not that.

She wanted, needed pain. I desire to give my partners what they need. That satisfies me. The orgasm is pleasurable, but that is what I need. So I learned to inflict pain. She orgasmed from pain. She was wired that way. I loved her. Her pleasure is my pleasure equals feedback loop.

So bottom line here, we had a lot of sex but pain was the focus. I didn’t learn the ways of pleasure as it were. I have a lot of skin to skin experience but that practiced love making was not in it.

While I was with “Sarah” we attended a few baccanals. Orgies. I just like the term baccanal better, its got style. Indiscriminate fucking there, which drives my number of sexual partners up. Again giving the illusion of experience without the substance.

After “Sarah” I was with Eric. I met him through our (Sarah and I’s) extended friends. He mixed pain and pleasure. He was my Top. This is the first time I have ever given his real name. Before I came out, I always referred to him as Erica. I usually use aliases for people on this blog but I know he would not care.

Probably get a kick out of it. I learned submission from him. I also learned I prefer pain to humiliation. No, stronger. I have no desire to be humiliated; It does nothing for me and can turn me off very quickly.

Eric and I were on again off again partners for awhile(4 years span,  but only together for about 6 months altogether) but nothing major.

I’ve dated here and there but no real sexual relationships beyond those.

So I have had sex many times. But unless pain is your need, I’m unlikely to be good. Not that I can’t learn. Just that my experience belies my skill.

That makes dating awkward.  In every area but this I am confident.  But when it comes down to brass tacks, this one place I am uncertain.