Weak Week

This week, I gave my most embarassing memory to you, Sir. Something I didn’t even share with my best friend S. or with my brother or my therapists. Something I kept for myself, for over two decades now. It turned out that you precisely knew how to react, how to cope with it and what to tell me so that I’m able to cope with it as well, finally. I was so relieved when it was spoken out, I had to cry. Sir, I am not ashamed if you see me cry or mourn in pain. I know I am safe with you.

But yesterday, I was ashamed. In fact, it was a confusing mixture of lust and pain and shame. You were right, it was exhausting, but moreover, it was abasing in a strange way. You know the things I do, the things you can make me do, but yesterday I was kept on the edge of tears because I felt so exposed and humiliated. Perhaps it was the wrong time for such a game as this week turned out to be the most emotional distressing one since a long period of time. I am grateful you took me home early. I know you sensed that I was about to end the game. I needed you near, I needed you to take care of me.

Sir, I am confused. I have never refused to take whatever you gave to me, but at the moment I feel like I can’t go on with it. In our current situation I think there’s no use in planning games with others. Forgive me, Sir. I don’t know what happened, I only know I want to be more than a lover or your “boy”. I really want to be the man at your side. I want to share my life with you.

I watch you sleep as I write this. Later today, when you’re awake, I will prep some tea and toasts for you and ask you to read this. John, I’m serious. I want to try it. Will ya help me with the boxes? đŸ™‚ Thank you for the trust you have in me. Love you…


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