Vicarious

***

I was never really in charge. I was never the dom that I thought I was. I was the slave holding the leash. I was the dog walking itself. Things happened because she wanted it. She got the best side of the beta and then walked away.

Five months of hell I walked. Five months of hard work and emotional breakdown and hate and love and pining and attempts to change and no change and friends, good friends. Five months of temptation and control and loss and loss of control and shit shit shit shit shit. Five months of months going by like bullet trains. Months lost to monthless moments. Months gone, never to return.

One night. One day. One kiss. One reason. One godless world run by godless heresies. Her ass in my crotch. Her intoxication. Her disposable body. Her sad face. Her smell. Her taste. Her eyes. My realm.

That was me in those eyes.
That was me in control.
That was me focused and on fire.
That was me in charge.
That was me on her tits.
That was me with her hips.
That was me.
No one can take that away.

“You’re your own man now,” said my uncle, smiling at me.

“My own man, for once,” I corrected.

I had told him I wasn’t going to leave his California home that he welcomed me in to for as long as I wanted. I had told him that I decided to cut my trip short and stay. I wanted to stay. My friends, my old co-workers, told me of the gold of being your own boss. He fired, she quit. On their own. Making what they could, together, free. I wanted to feel the sun and the breeze and see the peaks and the palm trees and drink up the dystopian paradise that is California. I couldn’t help myself. My being had given its ultimatum. It wanted the gifts of human delusion. It wanted the juice of self-deception. It wanted the command of the unaware and the unprepared. It wanted it all, and I decided to give it what it wanted.

For the first time, even while the tears streamed down my eyes, staring out at the blue-orange-red sky above me, sitting on the swing bench, I did something truly, fully and inexcusably for myself. The hate and the time and the worthlessness came out.

I no longer had to hate her.

She no longer mattered.

She was the dust blowing above me.

She was gone. Disappeared. Dissolved.

Amen.

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