Thinking [messy] Thursday


My words are messy.
My thoughts are messy.
The things I speak are messy and incomplete and offend and come out wrong.

My life is messy.
The things I do, the things I believe, don’t fit into a perfect little box and wouldn’t be understood by most.

I am messy.
The things I am, and feel, are a jumbled, mixed up clusterfuck of this and that.

But the things I know, well…I know them for certain. Filtering them, editing them out, or keeping them in doesn’t take them away. Because, when you know, you know.


thinking [things unsaid] Thursday

Hey!  Today is Thursday!  I’ve missed my weekly ponderings some bit. I’ve been thinking and pondering, but I haven’t felt like writing.  As I sit here tonight, lonely, on my bed (hiding from the children) I am thinking about my life, my feelings, my best friend, my dreams, my goals… and my Sir.

I’ve given Sir a hard time lately.  Not intentionally… there have just been quite a few emotions getting the better of me.  Tears fall with predictable frequency, which, quite frankly, irritates me to no end.  When you add that irritation to the sad to the crazy-happy, well, it’s just a lot to process.

I’m not always very good with the communication (yes, still!) so I recently sent my Sir a rambling email in an attempt to work out a particular issue we (just my issue, actually) were having.  I tried a different approach and ASKED if I could send an email.  I got the go-ahead and the words poured out.  My brain ran away and my fingers just typed, not bothering to pause or contemplate the cohesiveness of my words.  I didn’t proofread it.  Once it was finished, I decided it would just stand as written because it was unfiltered honesty, a real glimpse into the jumbled depths of my mind and fears.  I sent the email, never expecting much of reply because I wasn’t sure I even made sense, much less wrote anything worthy of acknowledgement.

I received a reply within a couple of hours… and not just a few words.  Sir sent me a long reply and said all the things I didn’t even know I needed to hear. You know me, I plan on keeping all the goodness close to the vest… I am selfish like that.  But I’ll tell you some of what he didn’t say.

He didn’t say I am a mess.
He didn’t say I am broken.
He didn’t say I am too much work.
He didn’t say I want for too much.
He didn’t say I am crazy.
He didn’t say I am not good enough.
He didn’t say I am a bad submissive/wife.
He didn’t say I should keep things to myself.
He didn’t say I should feel differently.
He didn’t say I should change (much).
He didn’t say I should be someone else.
He didn’t say I should give up.

While the words are lovely to hear, to read…I really do hold them dear to my heart (and save them in a special folder)… sometimes it’s the things that aren’t said that speak the loudest.

you get what you get



“You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit.”

I cannot tell you how many times I said that each day, to the preschoolers in my care.  Demanding colors or flavors or seats… the phrase was a catch-all.  I said it with my whole heart, trying to impart to the little munchkins that in the big scheme, those little things don’t really matter.  After a while, they believed it, too.  During play, you would hear them saying it to each other. What a great job I did!

But… what if I was wrong?!  What if sometimes it is okay, acceptable, even BENEFICIAL to throw a fit?  Maybe I do get what I get and maybe some things just cannot be changed. Do I have to like it?  Must I accept it with a fake smile on my face, like all my hopes were not just thrown on the ground and stomped out like a fire?

I don’t like it and I want to scream and pout and break things. I want to stomp my feet and cry and ask WHY over and over, until the answer is magically revealed. I want to sit in my room and feel sorry for myself.  I want to be held and petted and just told “yeah, it fucking sucks”.  For just a little while, I don’t want to try to fix it.  I don’t want to see the bright side.  I don’t want to focus on all the wonderful things that will most definitely outweigh the bad.  I want to have a moment.  I want to have a few days of moments, maybe.  I want to wallow, just a little.  Or maybe I want to wallow a lot.

Why?  Because it ISN’T fair.  (Oh, don’t roll your eyes, I am aware that LIFE isn’t fair, or about me, or any of that… just let me have my moment. Please!)  It isn’t fair and it is fucked up.  The best laid plans and all of that.  Something that I have looked forward to for a long while, that is closing in as I type… that now has a little cloud above it.  It is NOT fair and I am MAD.  Boo hoo.  Poor me. Queue the violins. Yeah, yeah… I know. But this is my moment… and it is a shitty one… and it is a doozy.  But it is MINE and I need to have it.  We can talk about all the good stuff later.

Rest assured, in this moment of mine, I haven’t lost all rational thought.  I’m very aware of the plethora of good things to come.  The calm part of me realizes this is just a minor hiccup, albeit a major inconvenience.  I understand that while this may alter the nature of the beast, it won’t rock the foundation.  I know. I really do know that, deep in my soul.


For today, for right now… I’m not ready to rise above it.  I want to sink below it and I want some company, dammit!  I want to roll around in the pit of ‘not fair’. I want to rally the troops with rebel yells, and scream “Fuck this bullshit!!”  Just for a little while longer.

Because you know… you get what you get, but sometimes, maybe it’s okay to throw a fit.

And just because I’m a mess, and I like to sing…