Weaving in Solitude, Reminiscing Childhood and Unraveling Pieces of Past Trauma

     In the morning Voodoo and I did some rope play and for a moment the feeling of self consciousness enveloped me. I felt bloated and chubby, especially when the rope tightened and caused everything to bulge out.

     Yet, something about the way he handled me with so much love and attention helped me rediscover my peace. It was as though the things I apparently felt self conscious about didn’t even cross his mind. In his presence, I quickly remembered how blessed I felt to be able to play with a close lover. I felt happy that my tummy was full of food and I was elated that I found sex to be such an enjoyable experience. Even through the perception of sexual play, it was possible to have an awakening.

     In the early afternoon, I met up with Sidetracked. He was super open to doing a macramé art trade for a couple nights stay. I let him know we would just need to go to the store to buy some rope.

     He joked, “Rope for what purpose?”

     He pulled out a box of bulky heavy duty rope, the kind that Voodoo used on me.

     I looked at him and thought, Oh you’re freakier than you let on to be.

     I loved how he didn’t have a filter and that he was able to joke with me about that kind of stuff.

     Later in the day, Sidetracked and I went on an adventure to find some cotton rope, which seemed to be more challenging than I expected. We went to several different stores and walked through various aisles with no luck. Sidetracked lived up to his name when I saw him purchase a plethora of gnomes and mushroom pottery at Hobby Lobby.

     We continued on with our search. During the drive, we talked about life, sex and the latest lessons we had been learning through our relationships/work. He bought me some Taco Bell, then we went to Wally World. I got my glasses tightened while he linked up with Pringles for a moment.

     Eventually, we hit the jackpot and found a store that sold just what I needed! I felt so beyond grateful that he had faith in my work and invested the time and money in me, especially being the busy man he was.

     When we came back to the hostel, he voiced how much fun he had with me.

     A spark was revealed in his eye as he said, “You’re really cool… and dangerous.”

     I fancied Sidetracked. I felt the same way about him and held a lingering curiosity for him. I perceived him as a big protector kind of man—just my type. It felt difficult to be on my best behavior in his presence.

     I got my supplies out of the car and immediately got to working. I felt so grateful that Sidetracked gave me the opportunity to be able to work with my hands again. I felt blessed to work in the community kitchen as well as in the comfort of a cozy room.

     Voodoo made me a thick macramé bracelet, combining jute with 3mm light blue cotton cord. Afterwards, I went to my room to get some solitude time. I placed the wooden rod on some hooks located on the back door of my room and got the rope prepped. It felt like a gift to have my own space where I could breathe and listen to the guided movements without any distractions. In complete silence, I expressed myself through the weaving of knots and paradoxically felt as though I was unraveling parts of my mind.

     The lighting in the room reminded me of my childhood. Specifically, it reminded me of my guest room at our old house before it got remodeled—I must’ve been around 7 years old at the time. It brought up feelings of warmth, coziness, motherly protection. I stood there barefoot and naked as I weaved the patterns. That was something that was also reminiscent of my childhood that got passed down into my adulthood—the sheer impossibility for me to wear clothes. Any chance I got, I was naked.

     Voodoo came in at the end of the night and we laid down beside each other. I kissed him with my wet lips.

     “You’re making me feel crazy,” I expressed.

     He goes, “I know. I could see it in your eyes.”

     I felt sadistic. I knew I was playing head games with him. Part of the seduction process was to establish an emotional connection/bond. I would cry in front him, making him feel as if I depended on him. I could appear to attach to him, yet I knew in my heart that I could also leave him behind and move on to my next victim at any moment. I was talented at building the feelings up, just as I was talented at breaking people down. An artificial high to keep people at arms length, in fear of getting my heart broken.

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