There are a number of nights I’ve meant to write about in the last few months, but continue to fail putting them down on paper. Sometimes it’s just a lack of time, but other time it’s a lack of vocabulary. How do you describe what it’s like to be brought to the edge repeatedly, to be pushed in ways you hadn’t previously imagined, and to savor every moment of it, even when you’re begging for it to stop?
A few weeks ago, it was M’s night to be in control. He pushed me far enough that I was forced to call a safe word, and later ended up sobbing against his chest for unknown reasons. He’s wanted me to write about that night for awhile now, but how do I do that? What do I say? It’s a lot more complicated than fucking my mouth.
It’s called sub space, but we call it “head space”. When your brain is short circuited and you check-out and can’t think about anything except being in the moment. You’re not thinking about that report due at work or that bill that needs to be paid or that homework that has to be graded. Where you are and what you are doing is simply that moment. That’s what M can do to me, and what I feel deeply inadequate in trying to talk about.
I hope I can give that to M one day, so he can understand what it’s like and why I have such a hard time talking about it.