 Some days I want to pack it in. Give up. Move on. Start over. Go somewhere really quiet and just listen. Listen to what the universe is trying to tell me. Listen to who I am, where I’ve been, and where I want to be. I’m reminded of a John Mayer song that states: By the time I recognize this moment, this moment will be gone.
It’s true. We are so busy. Life is so hectic. We spend so much time living up to the expectations we have set for ourselves or the expectations that were once thrust upon us that we miss moments. And moments are never actually lived in the moment. They are lived more in the memory of that moment rather than having embraced and felt the moment as it happened. Be the good daughter. Be the great student. Get the perfect job. Marry well. Buy a beautiful house. Have children. Retire. But then? What’s left? There really isn’t much left after that, is there? Well. We know the answer. It’s death. That’s what’s next. And it seems pretty damn final. And so I write. I write my life. I write to escape real life. I write to live moments over again. I write to rewrite the moments I’ve lived over in a way that makes more sense to me. I write the moments to heal. I write the moments I hope never happen. And I write the moments I hope will happen. As Shakespeare wrote above, living really isn’t about material things. It’s the experiences we have had. Our eyes. What we’ve seen. What we’ve lived. More importantly, it’s what we feel. That makes us rich. If I stay stuck in this place forever, what will I have seen? Is it enough? Yup. Some days, I wish I could pack up on those “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad” days and I say, “I think I’ll move to Australia.” But then I remember. There are still terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days, even in Australia. But love? Love can be found anywhere. And I have seen love. And perhaps, that is really all that needs to be seen after all.
25 Comments
 In the land of BDSM, “safe words” are paramount. Sane. Safe. Consensual. Very important when practicing the art of BDSM. Trust. The most important thing. And that’s where there has been controversy. Or perhaps not. I know this topic will get some people fired up, even angry with me. I lived through one such argument. Saw first-hand how heated, how opinionated, how downright nasty this topic can get when people disagree. It’s hard to have an open-minded discussion about a topic you believe so strongly in, that you are certain of. Let me explain.
When writing my Natalie’s Edge series, I met many people who practice the lifestyle. In a heated debate on safe words, there was one lone person who took the unpopular view. He tried to make his argument cogent. The “opposers” wouldn’t hear of it. He may have been too harsh himself. He may not have stated his points in the dispassionate manner he probably should have. Here was his point. Trust. He espoused that in a consensual BDSM relationship--and he was a believer that THAT only came with love and the whole equation, not a scene, not a fetish, not some contrived club atmosphere, but a lifestyle built on love and trust and loyalty—safe words were unnecessary. He espoused that in the true dynamic, the lovers would be so in tune with one another, love each other in a way that was so soul searching, that a simple "no" would do the trick. That a discussion, that open communication before any act, that getting to know one another, deeply, truly, fully, would eliminate any need to use such a “contrived” (his words) form of communication. You can imagine that this stirred up much debate. Anger. Miscommunication. After all, he was a professed sadist, a passionate sadist was his self-titled moniker, and many in the discussion kept trying to get him to see that point. And to see that sometimes in a "scene" the person won't know how far she/he can go until that VERY MOMENT, that there is no way to know our limits beforehand, that part of play is to push limits, to see how far one can really go. It got ugly. His views certainly didn’t change their minds; their views certainly didn’t change his. Instead, friendships, discussion groups, all became severed, never to meet again. I was new to all of it. Hadn’t heard of safe words except in Fifty Shades of Grey, but I listened. And I don’t think he was necessarily wrong. In the minority, yes. One may even say that is was a romantic notion. To find a love like that, a love where trust and communication is as natural as breathing the air around us. They felt it was irresponsible to even contemplate such an idea. That he must be some lunatic. How could a sadist control himself? In truth, they judged him. If one stops and thinks about it, it’s a beautiful idea to be so in tune with another human being that you can delve into your deepest, darkest fantasies and desires and know that the trust is there implicitly, that that person knows you so well, that he has your best interest always at the forefront of everything, sexual and otherwise. I have yet to meet anyone else like him. I doubt I ever will. He was a one-of-a-kind. And I'm sure you can fill in the rest. I don't need to say anymore. In Thorne: Rose’s Dark Contract, I wrote it without safe words, at first. I know much dark romance adds a disclaimer, goes there, doesn’t follow the rules but breaks them. It's part of the dark romance lure. But this tale isn’t so dark after all and it didn’t go where I originally had it going. Time. Space. Healing. I’m not sure I can even call this a dark romance anymore. I’m not sure what it is. It IS dark. But really, is there any of us that don’t have darkness? After all, can you know what darkness is without light? I leave it to you to comment. I’ve had one true BDSM experience. I am no expert. So I welcome your wisdom. Tell me. What is your opinion of safe words?  THORNE: Rose’s Dark Contract is getting closer to release! This is a book I started quite a while ago. I was in a rather dark place when I began writing it. I never thought it would see the light of day. I almost just bled the words and didn’t give much thought to it. When I put an excerpt up on Mr. Blackthorne’s site as well as here on my website, I got a lot of interest. People asked me to finish it. Seems I’m not the only one who likes dark characters, damaged men, and an exploration of human motivation. So I decided that as soon as I could, I would get back to it. When I picked it back up a few weeks ago, I realized that dark place I was in was no longer at the forefront of my emotions. I had buried, or at least accepted, certain things in my life as truths and the depth of my confusion and sadness had worked itself out. Well. That may not be fully true. The struggle continues, but it’s not debilitating. There is life again after hurt. Love abounds. All around me. In all different forms. And the love I thought I might have felt seems sort of surreal now, almost like an out-of-body experience. That’s what distance does. Writing doesn’t hurt either. Don’t think this isn’t dark though. It is. If you’ve read Natalie’s Edge, you’ll know that a story without angst, upheaval, insecurities, and flaws is not something I’m capable of writing. And this is from the male’s POV and let me tell you: This dude is indeed flawed! But his story is interesting and I think there is a twist that you will not at all see coming. I hope you’ll read it when it’s complete. And if you hate him or think he’s too controlling or that he has too many issues, keep reading. You just may be quite surprised at what happens.  Music was and is a huge part of my family. I started to write poetry (albeit not very well), because of the music that surrounded me in my house from the first days I can remember.
My brother is a pretty accomplished guitarist and singer, my dad was a self-taught musician who could play just about anything, but then again, my dad could do just about ANYTHING, and I dabble (though dance is more my thing). And there just never was a day without music in my life, ever. As a child, we camped every summer with my extended family. We had one of those pop-out trailers and I remember when we upgraded to one that had a shower. It was the talk of the campground! What I most remember though is my dad playing around the campfire each night before bedtime. We would sing and roast marshmallows and even then, I recognized how special it was. Sometimes kids don’t recognize that stuff in its moment. But somehow I did. I write this today with a sad heart of the passing of David Bowie because I have an extremely vivid memory of that first time I heard his music. My dad played a very stripped-down version of Space Oddity on his acoustic guitar. There was always music he was playing that I didn’t know or recognize. I was young…maybe 10 or so…and I remember how affected I was by the lyrics to that song, how sad it was, which led to all kinds of questions. What happened? Did he die in space? But what about his family? He just left them like that? And I actually cried about it. I’ll never forget what my father said (I’m paraphrasing the exact words—THAT I don’t remember). He said that sometimes people sacrifice what they love the most because it is the right thing to do. That there are true heroes that still exist, even if our world seemed rather selfish at the moment. My dad was and will forever be my hero. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of him. I dedicate this blog to both him and David Bowie.  Is it possible to be romantically in love with more than one person? MUST we choose one person? Is monogamy attainable?
Many people believe it is or at least it must be that way. Society dictates that for the most part. And there is something very magical about giving yourself to one person, that loyalty and friendship that automatically come when you pledge your love to just one person. But what happens if you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to more than one person? Perhaps even love that person? Why (as a good friend once admonished me for wanting) CAN’T we have our cakes and eat it too? Well...it’s simple. We all want to be CHOSEN. We want to be that special someone. We want to be the universe for someone else, that person he/she goes to for support and love and guidance and reassurance. We want to know that that person has our back, would walk the extra mile, would defend us against harm, and pick us up when we are our worst enemy. In short, we want them to love ONLY us. Yes. I believe it’s possible to love more than one person for different reasons at the same time. Can you actually be “in love” with more than one person? It doesn’t matter. Because I wouldn’t want to be anything but his only, even if I may want to have my cake and eat it too. And isn’t that the most selfish thing in the world? Yup. It sure is. Because somehow I want the rules broken just for me. So unless you’ll willing to let them also have their cake and eat it too, and maybe you are, it won’t work any other way. And quite frankly, it simply doesn’t fit the ideal romantic that dwells deep inside of me. And the old adage seems to apply: Do unto others as you would have them do onto to you (or something like that). So how do you choose if you find yourself in love or falling in love with more than one person? First of all, the question is: Does it go both ways? Therein lies the beginning of your answer. Because sometimes the person we love may not love us back, and while painful, it makes the choice quite clear. And then of course, the choice is sometimes laid out for us because, well, there isn’t a choice. We’ve made our commitments and are in it for the long haul. Commitment. Loyalty. Trust. You’ve already given it. Timing. Sometimes, it comes down to simply that. And love versus lust? That will have to be a topic for a different blog! In the meantime, if you do find yourself falling in love with more than one person and need to make that choice, you can always do what Johnny Depp had to say. He may just be right! |
I LOVE to write and read. I particularly enjoy reading erotic romance that has tons of emotion in it. I hope you will ask me questions and share your favorite authors and novels. I welcome all feedback.
Categories
All
Archives
November 2022
|
RSS Feed
