Good bi to a Good Boy

What to do, when all I wanna do, is talk with you, but you don’t want to. And, I only see myself staring back when I look for you. My fingers atop an image of your sweet gaze in the watery spaces of my mind. I leave it there as reflection of what magic once was. Whenever I move toward you the ripples push your image outward. Away waves of memories that subtly change with time. Now part of ocean deep volcanic energies creating forever waves of nothing slapping unknown shores. Stagnant movements made during a lost time, in haste, from an old volatility and fear fermenting tastes. Movements and words I can’t take back, so I am crying alone, talking to myself. Like Gollum, in my cave of remorse, writing to no one, in my grimoire of regret. I am so sorry for all the ways I did not yet know what I had done. It’s so clear now starting with my divorce the ways in which I run.

I need to move, but where. Not running I need space. I need a place to breathe and keep my own pace. The thoughts of you continue. My things stuck in storage, things for your home, collecting dust and aching for me to quit lying to myself. Over the last few years I’ve done a lot of trauma therapy and medicinal mushroom journeys. Had some hot spring adventures, and moonlight hippie drum circles, and spent time hugging redwood trees barefoot, kissing the mossy forrest floor, and yes a lot for me changed, yet some basic things stayed the same. There's internalized stress and a worried look on my face. A sense of chugging an old beater car, up an impossible hill, for an unknown race. I'd like to give up, although I don't think I'm allowed. Like Groundhog’s day where connection comes, but then, fades black again, trapped in my own hell. Not knowing who to trust, or if I can believe what they say, or which way to go, or if it’s worth all the wait. I am perpetually nursing this feeling of unbelievable, unrelenting heartbreak.

I wanted to believe so badly when I met you that this was the reptilian who was going to change my life for the better. You felt like home, but from a far off distant time and space where my green eyes and your sideways pupils recognized each others face. A daddy, big brother, best friend, puppy energy which is my fave. I instantly fell for you, the way I knew when you’d call on me in the aether, because whenever you thought of me, I felt my chair pushed to the wall. You felt so good it was like I was being tied up with ropes. What a visceral submission, the way you could see into me, anticipating your next stroke. For the ways in which you also let me see. For the ways in which I saw your struggles as my own. I related so much, and I felt safe enough to be friends and even sleep with, and stay in your home. After a lifetime of violent abuse I was relieved to trust. In 20 years you were the second man I allowed to touch, the most vulnerable thing at the time I could give of me. I understand for you a mere handshake, energetically. You were amazing in bed. Attentive, present, strong, you were such a good boy, the best boy I could ask for, and I wanted to make you feel good, but as a lover I was unwinding a thousand layers of fear. You don’t know what it took to meet you in your comfort place. It took me a few more years before I could show up in fully present in sexuality and latex and lace. I’d been a dominatrix before my fall of grace. But when attention becomes dangerous it’s time for a while to back out from the race. I watched your pupils change when we’d talk sex play lustful gaze on your sweet reptilian face.

So intimacy at the time wasn’t meant to be, but oh how I loved you, and wished it could be. I was ok to be friends who were lovers since you weren’t in love with me, and I trusted God gave me a healing masculine reptilian man to love for other reasons, and I did so unconditionally. I trusted the synchronistic way I already knew your family.  The similarities there I felt like were extensions of me. Your cousin the only other reptilian man I’d trusted in my life, and now here you were was this version, who I wanted to dislike. But I related to you instead. We met at the worst time of my life. You made me laugh, wry humor, and instinct, so smart and creative I’d never been challenged so much in the ways in which I think. A reptile soul from Andromeda, with a hint of perpetually sad star chart like me. The impacts of our Piscian energies. Impulsive and chaotic and fun and full of levity. You felt like a broken cult leader, who came to heal the earth, and make amends, and in you I saw me. I felt lucky to have met you. Both beaten down by gossip, and me too’d by fucked up women and why would anyone believe sex worker reptiles anyhow. Surrounded by fake friendships who could not show up in reciprocity. I learned from you all about how these people were lacking in capacity.

I never intentionally hurt you, but I knee jerk reacted and caused pain I can see. I am sorry for that and will be for eternity. Together we found out at the same time all my unhealed shadow parts, oh wow you triggered all the things to heal in me. It was an accelerated course in learning how to love and trust in myself, else risk losing entirely. I’ll always love you for what you gave to me. Including the parts you couldn’t, and wouldn’t, even for the words you said in hostility. I needed it all in order to let go and become more of me.

This last few years with new confidence, and trusting in me, I’ve started a business consulting, stacked hippie kink, and tantra certifications. I’ve learned sound healing, and provide group and individual touching sessions. I've managed to make some kind of a name for myself. But I don't know where to go next, I have moral debts. I'm willing to sell off all my things for a feeling of freedom I cannot find. The only time I feel good is when I can write out these plasmid thoughts swirling in my mind. I cry sometimes when you pop into my mind. My heart feels the absence of what you left behind.

When you were put into my life, it was a force of nature I couldn’t deny. There was much magic for that short time engaging in connected heart energy and telepathy. I learned so much about myself. I also know there were moments of fear where I was judgmental and unkind. We were good mirrors and I know I couldn’t have written my book on consent without you. That’s a tear in my universe still that haunts me today. The last time I felt magic was when I first saw you. But because of another there was fear instilled, I said no to my dream at the time. This is my first grimoire regret, not listening to the voice that said it’s ok this time. It won't be like anything else experienced before, but it doesn’t matter, it happened that way so who's keeping score.

If I could make another choice, and go back in time, it would be to when you offered for me to live in one of your houses to write. You wanted access to me for us to create. You said fly with me to Bali, we will live our dreams, and I said no, coming from being financially dependent at the time, and back then my ex held all the power, and abused it in kind. I wanted to make sure I showed up sovereign with you so I couldn’t ever place blame no matter what happened between us. I needed to know I wasn’t going to feel triggered, so I came back with an offer later where I’d pay rent and move into your home but by then it was too late. You’d already relapsed, and I didn’t know. I was teetering on the brink of insanity in tow. And merging universes without communication and holding trust for others when broken is complicated of course. The first time we had a disagreement I realized after the fact, I should not have moved. But I did, and I don’t regret the experience, or the wins. The playful moments we shared, naked hugs high on mountains, head in the clouds, and I won’t regret the nurturing and love that I gave. My sad romantic parts, my broken dad parts, my mid divorce lack of worth parts, all shouting for me to feel and heal. All while living alone in the woods, trying to write a book, doing dirty trick jobs, while my ex drained me of all income and my sanity, my internal organs began exploding from a lifetime of living in fight or flight agony, all while having popped open to the other side. Coming to terms with the reality of our universe, while grieving my entire life, was quite the emotional ride.

I left your home so sad. I left mad. I did not leave happy or relieved, I was upset. It was as if had no working plumbing in a place I paid rent. There was inconsistency with me at a time where I could not handle grey area energy. You’d invite me, but then not call. You’d introduce me, but make me sound small. I never actually knew what you wanted from me. But I’d become enamored with a reptilian polyamorous cult leader curious to explore what we could create, you and me. I miss the moments of safety, and the horny lizard telepathy. I cannot do anything but send love to heal my own heart, empty nest energy. Attempts to reconnect are not wanted, since you’ve ignored and blocked me, so I have nothing else to do, but hope that one day I can meet myself in another human hybrid lizard like you.

The dungeon quarters that I moved into there's no space for me here. My things are still in storage sitting dusty and sad. Feels like I've gotten myself in the same situation as before. When I was living in your house that had the furniture of someone else, I couldn't have a roommate for company, or rent out the place to another. I wanted to work toward starting my own business, like we’d discussed, me being an intuitive who understood consent, but in the house I had to work harder to pay and I couldn’t even have friends and company stay. The plumbing wouldn't work, in such a magical house it didn’t make sense, and I was told there was no way to fix it, and instead waited until I couldn’t take it any longer and I chose another side of the fence. The parts to fix the problem showed the day I moved out. I cried so hard my 75 year old mother held me shaking while I fell the fuck apart. I felt so stupid to have believed with a reptilian something good could happen for me. After a lifetime of being abused by them energetically. I had just moved from your other house and by then it was my 7th move in two years. By then you were no longer calling, sending intellectual voice texts, or offering to visit me. Busy balls deep in the old and new girlfriends in our Poly BDSM community. The calls became fewer, spicy angered statements were made, I felt like you wanted me gone, no willingness or desire to communicate, attempts at talking were repeatedly shut down. My mental health took a turn, while all alone in the woods, I couldn’t even sit on the couch in the house without feeling like I was about to drown. I was in the scenario I’d always thought I wanted but something felt so off and wrong. like a parasite entity had come for me, and from it I was suicidal and lost. It wasn't good for me to be so far away from friends and family. In a house owned by you, the person whom I barely talked to anymore but who would show up thinking I was out of town randomly. The person who told me holding space for me wasn’t good for their energy, until you would show up whenever you wanted something from me. Edward how I miss your vampire reptile blood lust plans for me.

But I was alone once more stretched to the limit. I thought you’d be understanding when I explained as a Sub in this case I needed something different. I moved out, hoping we could hold onto our friendship. I expected that things would change but I didn't think that we’d never speak. I had trusted in the universe putting us together, but I suppose our dissolution was also aligned. Maybe why I didn’t want to love you in the first place, because originally I wanted to avoid. The archetypal male of my nightmares, another man like me. My shadow parts come to life, a sex party cult leader with piercing blue eyes. As a hopeless romantic when it comes to friends, and lovers, and love, I saw magic in the possibilities of what could be until it wasn't good and healthy for either of us to be. Life was beating the shit out of us both, and we lost our trust, faith, willingness, and capacity.

It doesn't mean that I don't love you still, I do even if you'll never talk to me again. That stings in a way I cannot describe, Like a venom that leeks into my body from a wound I can’t find. I know that it doesn’t make sense to you but at the time I had to go, I had no choice. I wasn't fine, and it was becoming impossible for me to stay. My mental health was nil, and it became obvious to those who have eyes, my friend said come home from the woods I'm building a house, I want you to stay. She said Hannah I will never leave you. I will never ask for you to go. I cried for three days. The relief in hearing that I was wanted was a safety net I’d never known. Felt like the force of love itself had finally shone. After experiencing a lifetime of conditional love where I’d been made to tap dance around egg shells, I decided to say fuck it and let them break. I used my high ranking lizard tail to do it and shed the parts of me that felt fake.

There's these parts of me that love to be rescued, and there is a cost that comes with someone else's fantasy. Beyond sad writer in the woods, I haven't a clue what I actually want and need. It seems that every time I get the thing that I say I want, there’s a rub, a barrier, another person who hates me, or new place to get to, or get from under. It was the evil neighbor in the woods or the fact that I couldn't control who was coming in and out of the house. Since then I've done loads of trauma therapy, microdosed daily for years to heal my mind and body. I had a few medicine journeys. I've made new friends I faced a lot of fears. My body is enflamed right now as a result of feeling like I have rust in these gears. I want a space in a place that's just mine somewhere to call my own, and it's been this way for too long. I struggle against the voices telling me I have been wronged, we argue repeatedly, I don’t know what’s truth some days. Everyone is a co conspirator in my life. Some of my parts are still sad and gone beyond fight or flight.

Yesterday while I was in a hot spring enjoying my time, thoughts of you were creeping in the back of my mind. Wondering if you’d show up again and hide from me like the last time. What an awkward place to be to see someone I love so dearly who felt the need and desire to block me. I like it rough sometimes babe, but what a slap that turned out to be.

I love you in all our lifetimes, sending naked hugs all round. Hoping this finds you at a time when your ego is not too proud. Hoping that you recall fond things of me and not only the negative about our time. I miss your fist inside of me, I miss pegging you while tied up in ropes. I miss the breeding kinks we played and staged for a crowd, and am thankful for the ways in which you taught me to see myself. In spite of everything that occurred, I am better off from experiencing you and just thought you should know. This lamenting dominatrix is ready for her next show.

~Hanah Sunshine Havanah, lamenting Dominatrix

xo