Time Stops

Eight Days ago at 10:15pm my mother called me with one sentence that pulled me out of every petty thought and stupid mundane thing that had been running around in my head.  "Your uncle is dead."  I thought for sure I was mistaken and that it was a horrible mistake.  He was only 60 and had no health issues that I knew of.  But he had died alone in his backyard to be discovered by his wife after a long day at work.

He was my godfather, a man that was bigger than life, always joking and teasing.  His abrupt death caused me to lose my grip on the now and float in disbelief.   My husband somehow knew what I needed and held me for hours but also when I tossed and turned in our bed for over an hour he held me down until I was able to be still then we celebrated life and sensation until I was so tired nothing could have kept me awake.

By day I had to deal with a grandmother with dementia, an aunt who's world had been shattered and a father stoically grieving.  My Grandmother hated me and loved me by turns blaming me for her son's death and accusing me of lying, but I was the only one who would/could take care of her.  My mother cared for my father,  my Aunt was surrounded by her side of the family who didn't know me and my husband was needed to be the one running around doing all the preparations needed when large amounts of out of town family comes in.  I felt completely alone.

By night my husband stilled me.  It wasn't anything outside the vanilla box but he quieted my mind with pleasure every time I started to go off the rails mentally.  It was everything I thought I needed and I was grateful.  Unfortunately by Wednesday, when it was just us again, my emotions had built to an almost toxic level. 

I returned to work and felt totally adrift.  I needed pain and the release it gives me.   All day I dug my nails into my arms and sides to give myself that shot of clarity and reality.  By the time I was home and alone with my husband I was desperate for something both mental and physical.  I needed validation and release both physically and mentally.  I used every part of my body and every trick I could think of to drive him crazy then when the moment was right I encouraged him until he was biting all the right bits in just the way I needed.

In my grief, and since it has been so long since I've allowed my masochistic side out, I forgot all about the emotional dangers of playing with pain.   When we were done I needed comfort and praise.  I was in the zone  but on a razors edge and he didn't know, nor looking back on it now could he have known.  An innocent questions of " Did you like it when I ...." from me and a response of  "It was fine"  turned into a three hour conversation that swirled out of control because I was an emotional wreck. 

I know one of the main reasons that I enjoy the submission side of the equation is a lack of sexual self confidence.  To get a little egotistical for a minute,  I know that I am one of the smartest people I know, I belong to mensa,  I have a degree in theoretical math, I am amazing at my job and on the whole have no self confidence issues with anything except anything that deals with sexual topics.   To hear a night that blew your mind described of as "fine" and even after 3 hours of conversation with a man I have been sleeping with for over 7 years , I couldn't get one compliment about anything sexual I was and am distraught.

We came to an agreement .  We were going to try and have sex every day and while I know he's not going to become a talker overnight he would tell me at least one thing he enjoyed any time we have sex.  I didn't even mention anything of pain or bondage figuring that could come later.   

Now  three days later I'm mentally ready to face everyone but am still in a constant state of unhappiness and I don't know if I just need patience or have to approach it again with my husband.  The first night of our deal was awful I could tell he was almost angry about having a scheduled sex session.  Nothing came together right, he wouldn't let me do anything to pleasure him and when he finally got a single orgasm out of me he left and went to the store.  Next two nights was sort of better biting and pain was wonderful for me and he seemed to enjoy himself but again afterwards was silence.  

I wonder if I've lost my mind.  The physical side of sex is soo much better since I've opened up my wants to him but it's like I've lost something emotionally.   I'm not sure if the pain makes me need more emotionally or if we've actually lost something emotionally.