I Quit

For just a brief moment, I was done. I quit. All the magnificent, glorious, delicious moments cannot possibly make up for when I feel like such a terrible failure. It is incomparable.

And I feel as though I am destined to fail. All. The. Time.

I'm having a rough time, I admit. I'm learning how to trust people and build relationships. I'm developing a relationship with my father, who is very sick right now. I have invited a Domme to come demonstrate how to handle a flogger and what various other impact toys feel like. I am taking steps to go back to school and hopefully come up with some sort of useful skill I can make money and get health insurance from.

There are other issues, as well; other things I won't mention here. It's stressful. It probably sounds a little stressful, but when you add in my utter inability to cope with pressure beyond a certain point, and hopefully it will become a bit more clear.

Quitting would be a terrible thing. I know I would crave his collar and the control that comes with it, and I would regret losing the D/s aspect of our lives together, and I would mostly regret disappointing him. I never want to do that again.