Life, The Woodshed, and everything….almost

Ha! This is mostly going to be about my recent night at The Woodshed…..

My life and everything…..that’s moving along as is usual.

OK, back to the Woodshed.  It’s a public dungeon and fetish play space in Orlando.  I’ve been wanting to visit it for well over a year.  I didn’t because I chose to get in my own way, so to speak.

As anyone who has kept up with this blog knows….I have this minor Heartglow problem.  After our rather abrupt ending at the end of last July I went into a kind of shock and  lost interest in almost everything for the last 11 months.  I was not interested in sex or BDSM.  For six months after the ending I felt no passion for anything , including my orchids.  I spent a lot of time faking it till I made it…..

I’m starting to come out of my fog.

No, No, I’m still in love with Heartglow. I don’t know what’s going to happen between she and I.  We’ve had an interesting and complicated relationship over the years. Through all of that we’re still friends.  I see her and talk to her all the time.  Some days it’s easy to be her friend.  Other days my feelings are so intense it’s almost impossible.  On those days, especially when I’m with her, I work through it and I’m grateful that I can love her as profoundly and deeply as I do.

That’s not a reason to stop my life.  I’ve refused to have anything to do with SM and I’ve been reluctant to even consider taking a lover other than Heartglow.  That started changing a few weeks ago.

She invited me over for dinner.  That happens a lot.  This time a door was opened and I ended up laying myself naked on her table and emotionally gutting myself.  It was a good talk.  When I driving home I was wondering what the hell just happened between us.  She did ask me to continue being her friend.  I have no problem with that.  I also downloaded The Velveteen Rabbit to my Blackberry, and read it at her request.  I read it three times looking for some message  that was not there. It was about being real, and I certainly was real with her that night. Not very Domme like, but real and human.

A few days later I was thinking about living my life again.  To follow my interests, to take lovers, and to be a Domme again.  That’s why I went to the Woodshed.  To wake up and begin being me again.

My visit was enlightening and invigorating.  It was wonderful walking into that dungeon and seeing all the equipment and tools of our expression. It was also fun and sexy to be dressed “en Fetish” again.  It’s been a long time.  My heart quickened at the smell of leather and sweat, the moans and screams of submissives in scene.  I was little overwhelmed by it all.  I spent the evening watching people in scene, remembering the joy of being a Domme doing what we do.

I did not take my toy bag.  I had no intention of initiating a scene with anyone.  I just wanted to be around it again and to acknowledge the lifestyle is a part of who I am.  Besides, had I ended up in in scene with someone, I had my hands.  Those are my favorite toys anyway.  I can do a beautiful, sensual and loving scene, or inflict intense pain with just my hands.  I’m a minimalist Domme that way.  I have few toys and don’t need many.  What equipment I do have, is more than enough to give any submissive what they want.

Several months ago   I began looking for a female submissive or switch on Collar me and Fetlife.  I’ll admit it it was a half hearted search.  I was not ready and to be honest I was not interested.  I am now.  Heartglow may or may not ever let me touch her again.  She has my offer, and my heart is hers anytime she wants it. But, I’m not going to sit on my hands any longer waiting around to find out.  Life is too short and the gift of now is too beautiful.

I think it’s time to go out and play again.

The Lady Canhamiana

The Ceremony Of The Roses

I’ve spent most of the night sitting here playing my favorite game….you know, stare at the blinking cursor.  I played that game a lot earlier today too.

I have a lot to say apparently.

I want to write about The Ceremony of The Roses.  What got me thinking about roses and ceremonies was the other night when I was watching The Bachelor with Heartglow.  On the show, the bachelor guy gives roses to the women he’s still interested in and wants to get to know better.  The women who don’t get a rose get to go home.  Don’t think that wasn’t easy to watch.  Not with Heartglow sitting on the couch next to me.

I have a romantic streak a mile wide. I keep it well hidden, I think, but with Heartglow it flairs and burns bright.

And I still have conversations with my heart.

“Hey look!  Roses! What does that remind you of?  Thumpa, Thumpa, Thumpa!”

“I know what it reminds me of, but not now. Please, just settle down and allow me some peace.”  I thought my request was reasonable. My heart unfortunately, has its own agenda which rarely includes doing what I ask.

“Thumpa, Thumpa, Huh? Oh, Uhhhh, Not a chance.  Mmmmm, Heartglow.  Roses. Thumpa, Thumpa.”

Sigh…..See what I mean?

Heartglow and I shared in our own rose ceremony in the past.  I’m not going into detail about what we shared together except to say our ceremony included several yellow roses and quite a few candles. Our rose ceremony was beautiful every time we shared it together, and Heartglow was always exquisite.  It was one of my favorite things to share with her and its one that I miss most.  I have one regret regarding our rose ceremony.  Heartglow and I never shared it together in private.  We always shared it between us in public.  While that was sweet and I was in it with her paying no attention to anyone watching us or the flash from cameras photographing us together……I’m  just very sorry I never had the opportunity to share it with her in private.  Just she and I alone doing our rose ceremony would have been amazing and beautiful.

As we watched the ceremony unfold on the show Heartglow commented on our rose ceremony being much different and better than the one we were watching.

Oh Holy Shit!

Heart went into super drive. “Hey! She’s talking about what you were thinking!”

I took a deep breath, “Please, not now!”

“Oh, I don’t think so. This is way too good”

What was I thinking? As if I could expect Heart to cooperate with me as it thundered into its Heartglow version of the Riverdance.

“She’s talking about your rose ceremony! You were thinking about it when she mentioned it!  What are the chances of that happening? Pretty good I’d say. Ha!”

“Shut up!”

“NO!” Heart yelled. “Did you notice she’s wearing blue PJ’s?” Blue! Thumpa, Thump, Thumpa. Bet you wish you had a few yellow roses now!”

By this point I was willing to beg…”Please, shut up!  Yer killing me.”

“No! Not for 30 more years…at least! Ha! You’re so screwed! Heartglow, Heartglow…Thumpa Thud! The Yellow Rose of Heartglow!…..Everybody sing!”

Stupid heart.

I’m an emotional train wreck walking around in a surreal haze most of the time.  I have been since August.

This is hard to write.  It’s taken me a week to get this far.

I’ve loved Heartglow for so long. A year and a half ago she offered herself to me.  I’ll never forget looking at my Beautiful Heartglow sitting across the table from me willing and wanting to give me her heart….mine for the taking.

I walked away.

Another regret.

Since transition my experience with relationships has always been the same.  Men or women it’s no different.  Hot and intense, loving and sweet. Talk of the future and a life together. Never any plans, but always talk.  I get comfortable. I love back. Then suddenly it’s over.  I get hurt. My heart is crushed to a bloody pulp and splattered across the floor.

The men start whining about needing pussy.  They’re afraid of being thought of as gay.  I’m a liability to their job.  Their family won’t accept me.  The women are the same with the exception of them whining about needing some sweaty, grunting, hairy male to fuck them instead of me.

Regardless, in the end I’m never good enough.  Don’t think that doesn’t hurt.  After a while I just got numb, and accepted that anyone I get involved with will be temporary at best.  I learned to enjoy the moment but to never give myself completely to anyone.  When they leave me, using all the same excuses I’ve heard time and again I expect it, and I don’t get hurt.

I walked away from Heartglow because I knew it would end that same way.  I did not enjoy the moment with her until she tired of being with me, or I became a liability to her job. I didn’t hang out with her until her family and friends beat her up enough over being with me. I didn’t give myself to her until she decided she wanted a hairy male on top of her instead of me.  I love her and I was not going to let her hurt me.  Not Heartglow…anyone but her.

And then there was last summer and all of that changed.  Cue the Motels:

It happened one summer. It happened one time. It happened forever, for a short time. A place for a moment, an end to dream. Forever I loved you. Forever it seemed….

Heartglow and I were “Together”, sort of, and I felt comfortable and safe with her. More than I have with anyone ever in my life.  Instead of keeping my indifferent guard up I gave myself completely to her.  I allowed myself to love her with all that I am.  I gave myself away to her completely, totally and honestly.

Heartglow, the love of my life…

Six months later and I am still in shock at the abruptness of the ending.    I’m still a wreck.  I let Heartglow hurt me and I have not been the same since. I should hate her.  I often wish I did, or could.  I even tried with all of the rationalization, pain and suffering I could think of to hate her.  But my heart, wounded, beaten, bloody and crushed still sings its Heartglow Song with unrestrained giddy glee.

Why?

“Hope,” says Heart. “And this too…

“Love is patient. Love is kind. Love is not jealous. Love does not brag. Love does not get inflated. Love does not behave indecently. Love does not look for its own interests. Love does not become angry. Love does not keep score. Love rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things. Love believes all things, hopes in all things, endures in all things. Love never fails.

“Brain may have forgotten, but I haven’t.”

Stupid Heart.

Maybe I’m insane.

As I sat there watching the TV and thinking about our rose ceremony I stole a look at Heartglow sitting on the other side of the couch.

“Look at her.  Isn’t she beautiful?” asked Heart still dancing and thumping like a fool.

“Yeah, she is that, and so much more.”   I replied. “After all the crap between us she still wants to be my friend.”

“Then be her friend.  She wanted to see you or she wouldn’t have invited you over. How cool is that?”

“Way cool, Heart.” I answered.

“You can still love her like you always have.  She knows how you feel so just enjoy the moment with her while I dance and sing.”

I took a deep breath and thought; maybe I’m not insane and Heart knows what it’s doing after all.

Canhamiana

Stupid Heart!

Where is the line drawn for a touch to ‘be more’?

When does a touch turn into a caress?

When does a massage turn into a …whatever a massage turns into when your eyes close and all you can hear is your heart  singing to you?

When does a touch of hair turn into a tightly wound fist of silk that makes your heart quicken as she tilts her head back and moans softly?

When does her touch  turn into the moment when all you can feel is the heat in your groin?

Sigh…..

I was at a restaurant the other night with a friend.  Yeah, that friend, Heartglow. We were expecting a few other people to show up as well, but as coincidence, fate, luck, or the Practical Jokes, Dirty Tricks, or Fairy Godmother Department of God (pick one)  would have it,  just she and I were sitting across a table from each other.  Upon that realization my heart began singing it’s Heartglow song with giddy glee while I sat there across from her thinking….”Oh Shit!”

I have conversations with my heart.

“You know Heart, it’s been a tough week and I’d really like a break….Just for the next hour or so.”

Heart asks, “What? Are you kidding? No way!”

“No,” I reply, “I’m not kidding.  It’s been a tough week and I need a rest from everything that has been fucking with my emotions.”

“Heartglow, Heartglow, Thumpa Thumpa Thumpa.”  Heart stops singing for a moment to consider my plea, and then replies, “Ummm, I’m thinking, NO! This is way too much fun. I mean, just look at her. She’s beautiful.”

As I sit across from Heartglow grinning like an idiot  I consider ripping my heart out of my chest and throwing it  grenade style out the window and watching it sail through the cool air in a long arc before landing with a dull splat onto the asphalt parking lot.

I take a deep breath and continue my conversation.  “I know she’s beautiful. I’d love to hold her face gently in my hands and tell her how beautiful she is while losing myself in her eyes.  Her voice is music and she’s that one flower in a field full of thorny weeds. But, Heart I need a break.”

Heart is of course, unmoved.  “Heartglow, Heartglow, Thumpa Thumpa Thumpa.” Heart stops singing and replies, “Like I said, I’m thinking,  NO! And yer not going to toss me into the parking lot.  Brain told me all about that! Heartglow, Heartglow, Thumpa Thumpa Thumpa.”

Stupid Heart.

So I sat there doing my best to behave myself despite my heart’s unwillingness to cooperate with me.  When I get around Heartglow I go all to pieces.  I have for years.  I find this difficult to explain.  She just blows me away.  When I look into her eyes I see the most beautiful soul in the universe.  I’m lost.  I cannot imagine her not being in some part of my life.  When we are not speaking and not seeing each other even casually I wander around with a huge hole in me that cannot be filled by anyone but her.  Believe me I’ve tried.

I care what she thinks about me.  Her especially…yet when I get near her I’m often reduced to a gibbering fool groping for words and trying my best to avoid saying something stupid.  My heart laughs at me and my brain just locks up.  I can deliver an hour and a half long lecture on Cattleya orchid species and never miss a beat.  I can name and talk about Brazilian bifoliate Cattleya in alphabetical order, and the regions of Brazil they grow in.  I never suffer stage fright or sweaty palms. When I’m with Heartglow my palms sweat and I get nervous as a guppy in a tank with a large hungry cichlid.

“Hey Brain, where’d you go?”

“Vacation. Costa Rica I think.  Can’t tell. It’s dark in here!”

Stupid Brain

I remember one night not long ago when we were “together”, kind of, out on her back porch.  There’s an old sofa out there I often refer to as the recreation area.  We were sitting at her table drinking coffee and talking like we’ve done a thousand times.  Heartglow offered to massage my feet.  I was awe struck as I watched her tiny hands move over my feet sending me to an ecstasy of vibrating nerve endings and a furiously beating heart. That she would wash my feet and then massage them quickened my appreciation and passion for her and I loved her more for it.

As we ate our dinner together I looked at her with my usual passion thinking  I’m hardly a prize catch.  I’m weak, damaged and flawed.  I have nothing material to offer her. No house, no big bank account and I earn considerably less money than she does. The only gift I can offer her is me. My respect, my devotion, my passion, my loyalty and my deep and profound love with all that I am, and all that I’ll ever be.

As I walked Heartglow to her car and said good night my heart was still singing, “Heartglow, Heartglow, Thumpa Thumpa Thumpa.”

I got in my car wishing my heart would take a short break.  It must have been listening and replied, “NO!”

Stupid Heart

Canhamiana

Love………………….

It’s five in the morning and I woke up with love on my mind. I’m so lucky.  When I wake up writing an article in my mind it’s pointless to try and go back to sleep.  I’d rather get up and make coffee, then begin writing. I could have tossed and turned for an hour before getting up and writing. Why waste a good hour of slumping over my desk arranging my thoughts and chain smoking while the coffee brewed?

No time to waste!

I must splatter semi coherent thoughts across virtual page before they flitter off into mental oblivion.

OK you caught me. I was staring at my fish tanks.  See, the flittering has begun.

Love.  All I can say at 5 AM prior to my first of many cups of very strong Black Silk coffee is, why me?  Why was I foolish enough to fall in love with someone who is incapable of loving me back?

Oh, right….it was my turn.

Hey! Don’t give me that look. I didn’t plan on it.  I was happy to play the happy single sleep with my best friend once in a while role.  I was happy to have a few other lovers to play with as well and not have to worry about the gross entanglements of a committed relationship.

Then love happened.  For a while I was content to keep my big mouth shut for a lot of reasons.  Fear? You bet.  Issues? Oh absolutely. I was full of issues with myself and issues with her. Wouldn’t you know it though….through no fault of mine I managed to work through all of those “issues” in time and then  the love monster hit me like a run away truck.  I knew I was screwed the last time I slept with her. No, I mean really screwed.  There’s having sex and there’s making love.  There’s also that moment when you are totally in it with the person you really honestly love. That moment where everything in the universe makes sense, including God, where everything is, and isn’t at the same time. That “Holy Shit” moment when you realize that this is why love is worth all the pain and suffering that goes with it.  The moment when the soul leaves the body and dances above it in the ecstasy at the realization that this is what they meant when they said sex is beautiful with the one you love.

I touched that place once.  The first time ever in my life.  Before that sex was just sex. Fun, always worth doing…..Great with people I cared about.  I’ve only gone to heaven once….the last time I was with her.  I haven’t been with anyone since. What’s the point?

I finally had to confess my long held feelings. Crap and Damn it all to hell and back!

We have the makings of a fine real life romantic story here.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

That’s not how it went. She was happy to be my friend and sleep with me occasionally, but did not want me, “That way”.  Life is so much fun sometimes.  My response was to make a total fool of myself while the love monster sat back  and laughed at me. The love monster is a prick!

I hardly see her or speak to her these days. Don’t think I don’t want to.  You have no idea.  Her voice is music to me. When I see her my heart goes into overdrive.  It only beats for her. Stupid heart.

“Stop it heart. This is madness.”

“No! I’m in love. Deal with it and sucks to be you. “

“Crap!!”

“Yup”

So I carry this love with me all day, every day as I have for a very long time praying and wishing that one day I will wake up and it will have passed into oblivion.  So far prayer and wishing haven’t worked. Neither hasdenial, anger,  bargaining, depression or acceptance. Well, OK….I accept the annoying fact that I’m in love with a woman who does not love me. Up the 11th step!

Trouble is my friend, oh oh.

While I sit out under the trees at the nursery I wonder when I’ll be loved.  Hey! Be nice. There’s a ton of pain here.  Somehow, and again through no fault of mine, I crossed that happy single line into I want a relationship city.  I’m not content to just screw around any longer.  I want to love, be loved and build a life with that person.  I have no idea who that person is, or if it will ever happen but I want it. I don’t know how to find that person either.

I can’t advertise a profile on 99.99999999999992% of internet dating sites because I’m TS.  I find that irksome and hilarious at the same time.  Gay, Les, Bi?  Welcome aboard!  Transsexual? Get the fuck outta here!!! We don’t serve your kind! It’s not a matter of having to sit in the back of the internet dating bus.  I’m not even allowed on the bus.   Crap.

I’ve done the beginnings of a profile on Fetlife but I know that will bear no fruit.  Bisexual M to F Dominant seeks female submissive for LTR…….I’ll get responses from everyone but what I’m looking for. At least that’s what experience tells me. like the two responses from men I’ve received so far. Their avatars are typical.  An ass and a cock.  What in the wide, wide world of SM wold make me want to respond to either, “conversation”? More Crap!  I should add that I hold no silly illusions about finding love on an internet site.  Some do, but that’s them.

No, I’ve touched her already, and saw everything and nothing at the same time when I was with her.  That’s why I’m sitting here writing this, and she’s ten miles away doing whatever she’s doing.  She’s always in my heart.

“Damnit Heart, I said stop it!”

“And I said, NO!”

Stupid heart.

Canhamiana