I picked that title because I don;t need to cement in my head that this process is terrifying. Eeep.

Trying to figure out what frame I want to talk to Noah about and compare to the frame that he wants is hard enough. Then trying to figure out what I might want to ask other people for so that we can have a conversation in which they are allowed to ask for what they want…

I want to hide in a closet.

Do I really have to talk in person to people like this instead of just talking around them in my blog? WHY?! THAT’S NOT FAIR. I DON’T DO WELL AT THE IN PERSON TALKING.

sob.

Eeeeeeep.

But I’d kinda both like to still be close friends with these people and I’d like to bang them and whether I like it or not… it gets messy.

Sob. Rend garments. Rip hair. Agony.

Noooooooooooooooo communication.

You can’t make me.

Ok. No one is trying to make me. So far one person very politely asked and another person said “Or you can tell me the end result–whatever you need” and another said “I’d like to help and I don’t know how.”

Me either. Can you tell me how I feel about these things? That would be useful.

There’s a lot to balance here. Because everyone needs to feel important because everyone is important. We have a really strong dyad in our house and that’s fine… but that doesn’t make any of the folks we want to play with less important.

We just need to talk about where the happy medium is. What is the closest we can get to what we want.

I’m glad we are four days without yelling or screaming now. I hope this trend continues. We are both reacting from a completely terrified and insecure place and I hope that can change.

Noah. I hope I can manage to change my behavior enough to stop scaring the hell out of you. Thank you for being willing to talk about ways you might need to change for me. If we could figure out what we want to ask for it would go faster.

We are getting better. Closer.

I feel like by the end of the month we may end up with a bunch of different written documents. Maybe including flow charts. Years ago I went to a protocol play class taught by Tristan Taormino. She talked about having a 13 page (or more? Memory is fuzzy) document outlining behavior.

I totally got wet thinking about it. Fuck yes. I’ve never forgotten that. The idea of having that much certainty about what you are supposed to do. Swoon.

It was that long and detailed because different situations require different rules. Given that I spent half of last year traveling with my kids because I need them to understand deep in their bones that different situations require different rules and I have historically had a hard time figuring those boundaries out alone…

God I love a good contract.

I looked at my old contract. (Apparently other people have been curious about it a lot lately too because that gets a lot of hits.) It is interesting noting the similarities and differences between what I want now and what I needed then. My Owner really was as close to a Daddy as I could talk him into being.

Do I want that with Noah? Is that what I want forever? I know I want codependent enmeshed stuff, but do I want that kind of taken-care-of forever? I don’t know.

“The slave is to try to contribute positively to the relationship and submit to
commands as they are issued.” I’m giving a side eye to this bullshit right now. My Owner really didn’t like the degree to which my mental health problems impacted his life. Suck it. I get depressed. I get anxious. I get suicidal. I feel intense self harming urges. I’m not always a positive fucking contribution.

I want to feel like I am still welcome here.

I want to feel like I am good enough for Noah even when I don’t feel like I am good enough to justify continuing to eat or sleep or breathe. That’s an unfair burden to place on a person.

What is fair?

One massive difference will be that our “normal” protocol will be out “kid” protocol which is to say… just about none. Like, maybe there are household provisioning things. Or maybe we get more ritualized about hello/goodbye… but dat’s it.

No more in front of the kids.

My kids will never see me kneel to nobody.

This is nonnegotiable.

I don’t give a shit what other people do. This is about me.

Some day my kids will figure out that I’m a sexual submissive and it is going to blow their minds from here to kingdom come. “You?! You do what dad says?!?!?! Hahahahahahahaahaha”

That’s going to be how that goes. About how it went with my mother. “Wait. Say that part again. You do what someone tells you to do?”

I am completely and totally convinced that all my obedience in this life needs to happen on the down low where most people won’t even know it is happening. Safer that way. My experience of looking too sexually submissive in front of people was that it wasn’t safe.

Hi, I’m Krissy. I’m a bad ass motherfucker.

Oh golly. I got an interesting perspective on Youngest Child recently. We are getting to know a new little friend and there was a mild altercation between this new friend and YC. The other child hit YC and I guess YC glowered back but didn’t hit. I wasn’t clear if there was verbal threatening of some variety on YCs part…. but there was a lot of intensity involved. Enough that the other child was affected.

That’s my baby. I’m proud. Keep that shit up.

I was asked if I had a good day. I didn’t sleep well. I’m in a lot of pain. The kids are all fussy and I have five of them here. I did tons of chores (laundry, dishes, vacuuming, sweeping, putting books away, helping kids clean their room) and I took a rest period during babysitting.

I really can’t complain about my day.

I’m thinking a lot about this negotiation thing. I don’t want to be “polyamorous”. I’m also ok with being an asshole. But I really don’t want to hurt my friends if that is avoidable. That makes everything about sex and emotions complicated. Even if I’m “just” nonmonogamous… I love these people.

What does love mean anyway?

I don’t really know.

But I know I love you.

I know I want you to be happy and to be treated well. I know that I need to deal with my triggers around some of this in some way even if that means there are some things I pussy foot around because PTSD sucks.

Maybe non-traumatized people should never make a rule to avoid trauma. I’m less convinced that I should never create rules for managing trauma. That’s a thing.

Especially if it is things like, “Being nearby when Noah plays with friends is fun and exciting and when he does it away from me… I completely flip out so let’s make sure I’m nearby when you play.”

Is it “fair”?

What the fuck does fair mean.

I’m not saying it is a fair reaction. I’m not saying that flipping out is a rational response. I’m saying it has been predictable for over 15 years. I don’t share that well. It is complicated and layered and I have distinct limits around it.

Is it fair that Noah is less possessive so I have more leeway? Maybe not.

I’m not sure he is less possessive. He is less traumatized. It makes a difference.

If he really and truly couldn’t handle it… we’d figure something out.

But should I have to handle something because he can? I struggle with that. I feel very small and ashamed because I can’t just match his generosity of spirit.

I know it has been nice for me and I suspect it has been nice for Noah to hear the long list of things we each feel insecure about. There was a big part of me that didn’t really believe we would work out. But 10 years later I want him a lot more than I did at the beginning.

I respect him more. I appreciate him more. I like him more. Knowing Noah more deeply makes me want to make sure I never ever lose access to this person.

When pretty much anyone looks at me I’m always trying to figure out why I’m wrong and what I need to try and tone down to not bother them.

Noah is the only person in the whole world who has ever looked at me like I am his dream come true. That’s heady shit, yo. I try as hard as I can to give that back.

The calm in the storm is over.

This shit sucks to talk about. Like whoa. What are we doing? There are so many layers to “fair” here. We want and need different things. We really do.

The things we can offer aren’t necessarily the things we want to receive.

The things we want to receive… we can’t offer even a little. We are so different.

Monogamy has meant a lot of “let’s not talk about x problem because there is nothing we can do about it” and that’s getting blown up. That means we are talking about shit we maybe should have talked about years ago and we just didn’t know how. Or it hurt too much. Or something.

This is hard. What do we really need? That’s hard to say out loud. We need different things. That’s very true. We have always needed different things.

I have read a lot about 50/50 marriages. Where folks try real hard all the time to make things “equal” like who earns money, how to negotiate child care, splitting up housework…

God that sounds hard.

We aren’t good at doing the same things. If I had to earn 50% of our income… it would go down like whoa. If Noah did 50% of the housework he would have a lot less time and energy for paying attention to me and I consider that a bad trade.

I will happily keep the house clean while you are busy with shit I can’t prevent you from doing so that at the end of the day you will turn the full radiance of your attention on me. Fuck vacuuming. I can do the vacuuming.

I want your attention. I want your attention. I want your attention. I want your attention.

Not getting enough of Noah’s attention feels like a plant withering from water. I cannot live. I cannot grow. This is not a want. This is a need. I will die piece by piece if I do not get this.

We have never been all that good at balancing this. I would drain Noah dry if he wasn’t careful. I want so much time and so much attention.

If Noah worked 10 hours a week and spent the rest of his time with me, that would be ok with me.

I remember Auntie freaking out when Uncle Bob retired. She went out and got a job to get the fuck away from him.

I can’t wait until Noah spends more time with me. Please. He’s trying to have his next job be a remote job so he can work from home. I think that sounds dreamy. It will help him with his extreme burnout on dealing with people. It will let us just… be in a room together more. We like that.

I don’t want to date other people because I want less time with Noah. I want to date other people because when I do so our sex life is off the chart amazing. It is true that I was not willing to discuss limits on what I was doing a month or so ago. I really wasn’t. I shut you down. I know I didn’t communicate about that. I know I scared you. I know I hurt you.

I am sorry about that.

I know it still hurts the way I’m framing Portland. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m not sorry I realized I need this that badly. I’m not sorry that I limited my cheating in the exact way I did. I’m glad I had at least that much restraint and yeah I know that is chicken shit.

I’m glad I didn’t fuck up bigger. Clearly I needed to fuck up.

I feel really bad for being so god damn glad that I only fucked up that big. It was a fuck up. Yes. I am so very happy I only fucked up like that. When my self-control goes… shit I’m glad I did that well. I know I hurt you. I know you want me to be way way way more contrite than I know how to be about this. It is so complicated in my head.

I’m so glad I didn’t fuck up bigger that it is hard to be as sorry as you want me to be.

That’s weird and hard.

I am sorry I hurt you. That’s a full stop. I know that’s a chicken shit apology. That’s not a real apology. I know that. I am sorry I hurt you.

I am sorry I couldn’t talk about more pieces of this before I flipped out and just had to go fucking play with people. I’m sorry I told you I wouldn’t follow any rules and scared you so much. That was terribly unkind. I really should have found a way to negotiate a short going off leash period… not acted like that was the way things are now.

I really fucked that up.

I don’t want the rest of my life to look like April. As awesome as my friends are.

Noah. I am here for this. But I’ve always liked having lots of people come over. I’ve always had lots of friends. I just want to have sex with more of them more often. Because that’s fun. Yeah I’d like it if you were there most of the time. Any sex that involves you is better than sex without you. And to be honest, after all these years it is weird to orgasm without asking for permission and you don’t want me asking anyone else. It’s hella convenient for you to be there.

I’m insecure about the loss of time and attention. It’s not about your dick. Not really. I know I’m enmeshed. I know I… pull maybe more of my sense of self from this relationship than is strictly speaking healthy but this has gone so much better than anything and everything else I’ve ever tried. That’s complicated.

Sigh.

I’m nervous to speculate here about some of the stuff we are talking about. Intensity vs variety. What do they mean? What do we want?

What do we need in order to feel safe and happy? We are different. We need different things.

We are filling in different shapes of gaping holes in our hearts.

I’m happy to help shovel for you if you help shovel for me.

I know you don’t feel very likable. But I like you so much. I’ve already devoted 1/3 of my life to you and I plan to have that percentage only increase.

I’m frustrated with the idea that I shouldn’t feel entitled to anything from you. I don’t find that very useful.

Wow. I just had an interaction that I want to start reacting to. And I don’t. So time to stop typing.

I have been on this roller coaster for almost 30 years now. My behavior/emotions right now are not really and truly tied to what is happening right now. I just do this. This isn’t rational. This isn’t carefully considered.

This is what triggering means. There are things that… send me round the bend. And I’m going to be on that trip for a bit.

That is what living in a highly traumatized body means. It means that even when I really fucking wish I were just mellow and ok and fine with what is happening sometimes I’m not.

I try as hard as I can to be ok with things. Often to the point of hurting myself because I accept things long past when they are triggering me because I’m so tired of being the whiny baby who needs everything to be all about me.

One of my friends said that I need to identify my core emotions and deal with them because I will never be able to come up with a list of rules that prevent me from feeling like this again.

The only part of that I agree with is that I can’t prevent feeling like this again.

I don’t know that I think that identifying my core emotions matters.

Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening.

Doesn’t matter. I feel like everything I have is about to evaporate. Because I am not good enough to deserve any of it.

I am not good enough to deserve Noah or anything else I have.

Because I am bad. That is what this all feels like it boils down to. If I weren’t so fucking selfish and immature and stupid and petty and bad… I wouldn’t be like this.

I have very strong feelings about how much punishment I deserve for this. That may become a problem. I feel like I am wrecking Noah’s life. I feel like I don’t let him have joy or pleasure or experiences he wants to have.

I feel like I should die so that he actually gets to live. Because I don’t know how much living he will get to do with me standing around. Because I am a contemptuous petty bitch.

I hate myself.

This week the list seems to be growing by leaps and bounds.

I don’t like myself even a little bit.

I don’t like how insecure and neurotic and pathetic I am.

I think I am ruining Noah’s life and he would be much better off pursuing the laundry list of people he’s had to give up for me. They wouldn’t be the fucking asshole I am. I’m the problem. The other people he wants to date are generous, kind, and tolerant. I am the problem. I am the problem. I am the problem. I am the problem. I am the problem. I am the problem. I am the problem. I am the problem.

Maybe I should stay home for a while. When I leave the house all I do is hurt people.

Bleeding didn’t break my suicidal ideation this month. That’s because I am such a pathetic fucker I am hurting fucking everyone.

I don’t think I deserve to have friends, let alone lovers.

I’m ready for a new mood.

I don’t know that there will ever be a time in my life when I’m not the reason people can’t have nice things.

I asked Noah questions last night about what he gets from sex, play, and dating. What he wants and what he needs. He told me a lot of things. Some of it I kinda knew. A lot of it I didn’t. In the end he said, “But the thing is, I want ____ with you more than any of that. If I do those things I won’t get to have ______ with you. It isn’t worth it.”

It’s true. If you date, Noah, you won’t get to have what you want from me. I won’t be able to give it to you. In order to share you I will have to keep you out at arm’s length.

I can share really really really well when someone doesn’t feel like mine. I’m the most generous slut ever when it comes to people who don’t belong to me.

I’m sorry Noah.

It isn’t fair. I know.

Why? Why can’t I share and have real closeness? Because I can’t. Because if you want to go see other people that’s fine but you are sleeping alone afterwards. Because I don’t want to touch you.

I don’t do that after play parties where he plays with people.

I’m an asshole.

Because I’m scared. Because I’m not very secure. Because I’m a baby. Because I can share the casual people because I don’t have any belief they will actually be in my life long-term. If they are that will be a pleasant surprise.

In order to share I have to be ok with not knowing you soon. Because if I don’t like how something is going with sharing I need to be able to walk away or I’m a mean nasty bitch. When I feel threatened I am horrible. Which is why I don’t feel possessive at all of my casual partners. It would be toxic and problematic.

But you want me to feel possessive of you. Which I do. Which means I want to scratch your face off for wanting serious alone time with someone else.

Because I’m a fucking asshole.

I’m not mad at them. I’m mad at you. I hate you for wanting that. Even though I want it. Because I’m a hypocrite and a fucking asshole.

This isn’t fair and I feel really guilty.

You can give this and I can’t.

That doesn’t seem fair at all.

In order to tolerate Noah dating I’ll need to make the garage into my bedroom and not come near him on the day of his dates because I’m mean. He doesn’t really want dating if it means I will be isolating away from him.

I’m not trying to punish you with the isolating. I’m trying to avoid punishing you. I know it doesn’t feel that way. My control is… variable.

Noah says that even though I document the kid fuck ups I don’t need to punish myself with publicly talking about every speck of what I do to him. Because he’s a grown up who has consented to this relationship and we talk seriously about when I step over the line and we keep track of it privately and he says I don’t need a public firing squad for being mean to him.

I think he is being too nice to me. I am scared of him not getting the support he deserves from friends.

I have had very blunt thoughts in my head about why I picked Noah. Of my available options in life, he really was my only chance at getting to write the specifics of the story I wanted. He was my only option who was interested in what we have now when he suddenly proposed out of the blue. He and I talked last night about what it took for him to get from what he offered when we dated initially to where we are now. It was quite a departure from established norms for both of us.

When he rattles things off I can see why he picked me. But I still don’t get, really, why I am worth so much ongoing trouble. I’m a lot of fucking trouble.

It is really hard to help me feel even a little bit secure. I’m not a secure person. Noah doesn’t just do cartwheels. He does them through flaming hoops. Suspended over water. I’m not sure how he manages.

Noah did concede that when I am not monogamous my orgasm response goes through the roof. Yes, I was doing better after the road trip. It’s true. Be fair. But not like when I’m dating. For the record: last night was awesome.

BIG NEWS! I finally started bleeding. HALLELUJAH!

I love that I went into the bathroom and after wiping I said, “Glory be!” Noah said, “Ahh, started bleeding?”

That kind of intimacy is awesome. He knows why I’d be happy in the bathroom. (Ok, I knew I wasn’t pregnant… but I was feeling paranoid. Yes I’m fucking thrilled to bleed. I knew I wasn’t pregnant because I’ve been pregnant four times. I will never ever mistake that feeling.)

It bothers me to know that if Noah died I don’t think I could ever let myself be in that serious of a relationship again. I don’t like how much I control Noah through my insecurities. The only way I know to manage that is to not get that serious about someone.

Why do I think nonmonagomy is good for my sexual drive? Because we had sex most days we saw each other in November (I got home at Thanksgiving). In December we had sex 14 times. In January 7 times. In February 14, right before going off leash.

In March we had sex 22 times. In April 29 times.

That’s nonmonogamy. That’s how it works in my body. I had sex with other people on six days in April. Usually I had sex more than once per date but not every single date due to timing.

That’s nonmonogamy.

I had sex with other people on two days in March.

We are up to 9 times for May. It’s the 4th of May. Oh god. May the 4th be with you. cringe

Why so high in May already? Anyone who will do 9 straight hours of processing with me for a date deserves lots of oral sex. That tends to lead to more things. Like last night.

Normally I don’t have sex on my period. At least not for the first few days. But for some reason oral then anal was beyond ok.

I think I am remembering the book right but we are having fun with Doc and Fluff overtones because we decided that ass fucking needs to be only in the marriage going forward. I had been considering it with other folks. I already did it once with my submissive. Noah wants me to not do that again. He won’t be fucking anyone else in the ass at parties either.

We are so possessive.

Noah was the first person to successfully fuck my ass. Other people tried first but he managed to do it in a way that was good and not traumatizing and was fun. He took me to Monterey for a weekend. Got me good and drunk on port then he seduced me and just… made it work.

I’ve done it with uhm a lot of other people since that before our marriage. Only a little bit since we got married. Sounds like I’m done.

Because Noah wants that. Ok. Yes. I like the idea that you want to be possessive. Be my guest.

(Yes I know I will have to update the users guide again at some point. How about if we kinda finish negotiating first.)

We probably only have 150 or 200 or so hours to go. Cheers.

When my therapist was a Berkeley dyke she commented that Noah processes more than a Berkeley dyke and that’s just weird.

I know you pay attention to me. I feel it. Thank you.

I’ve actually come a long way. I used to hide in the corner and cry when my Owner tied people up at parties. He didn’t ever have sex with them. He didn’t go on dates. I couldn’t handle having him touch other people.

I really have mellowed out. As improbable as that seems.

I am more secure.

Hilarious.

Apparently one of my friends thinks that cis-women are just too much trouble. I so am.

I’m not at a point where I feel particularly deserving of how difficult I am to deal with. I’m a lot of trouble. I take time, energy, so much attention….

I feel like a fucking vampire. I feel like I am evil. I drain people.

I want more than my share and that’s wrong.

I have this black hole inside of me and I don’t know what to do about it. I need a lot of love. I need a lot of attention. In order to be perky and cheerful I need a ridiculous amount of sex.

Like, so much that my therapist bugs her eyes out and says, “I don’t understand how you physically do that and get other stuff done.” Oh I get a lot more done when I’m taking breaks for sex frequently. It seriously fuels my productivity.

I definitely overdid it in April. I hit burnout feeling. I am feeling kinda done with people but my life is still very scheduled. It’s going to be one of those time periods when I celebrate people canceling on me and I still don’t turn anything down because I’m dumb. (Ok, I’ll turn dates down. I mean friends.)

Because I ran away from home to stretch taut the strings in my life. Folks are trying to pull at the strings and I just can’t say no to tightening those bonds.

I need you and you and you and you and you and you and you.

Why do I need all of you so bad? Because none of you have that much to offer me. And I’m a black fucking hole.

The only trouble is y’all have your own needs and this has to be a trade and that’s why I’m feeling so burned out.

I get a lot of energy from folks. I give a lot too. It’s going to be fascinating to try and regulate this so that I’m nice to Noah and the kids.

I’m not capable of figuring out how the rest of my web will look in 30 years. I know that my life will largely revolve around Noah and my kids if I don’t fuck things up. Noah wants it and Noah is demonstrably all in on making that true. My kids show every sign of being folks I will be able to have a relationship with later.

I don’t know for sure that we will live near each other. But the way Deity talks about his parents gives me hope.

There’s a juxtaposition. One of the things that probably contributes strongly to why Noah is so safe for me is because he is not melodramatically divorced from his family…but he doesn’t actually have a relationship with them. That’s broken. What exists now is mostly there because of me and my damn letters.

Deity has a very positive relationship with his family. Listening to him talk about his interactions with them is fascinating because I want that.

But I don’t think there would have ever been any possibility of my becoming part of that kind of thing as the child side at this point. I think I… I would be the problem.

I need a partner who, like me, is alone. Who needs that obsessive enmeshment because that is what we have in this life.

But I want to be the parents for that.

And I want side pieces. Cause I’m a selfish asshole. No, because when I have side action I want to fuck for five hours straight when my kids aren’t home. Ok, not straight. We can take breaks. Cumulatively. In between talking about intense and overwhelming topics that most people never want to talk about at all.

Yes. That.

I want that. Someone who has the time and energy to spend most of the rest of their life obsessively fucking me. Because they don’t have that much else really… pulling their attention away. Yup. I want that.

I have that.

I am so lucky.

I don’t feel like I’m isolating him because he only sees his friends because I make him go. I push him to schedule trips with friends. I suggest people for him to email and go visit. I am forcing him to create his own web.

Because if I break he will need to be caught.

And my web, while wonderful… wouldn’t be perfect at that. It is shaped for me.

I don’t really want him to be alone. But it makes it a lot easier for us to enmesh the way we do that we don’t have families who try to hold us into an image of who we are. We are free to create our relationship without giving a shit about approval.

That’s…

That’s a big thing.

I might have different feelings about a lot of what we do if we did. I don’t know. I can’t know.

The problem with all this desire to go out to parties together is babysitting. But! I’m arranging split custody stuff with a friend. Because that’s how this is going to work. The kids need folks to be with all night long on a regular basis and this is how I can arrange this. And my friend needs some damn support.

Four kids is often easier than two. It’s weird. They are very self contained. There are times when it feels like being a circus ringmaster and I’m so grateful they get to go home.

I’m keeping them two nights this week. My friend kept my kids for three nights in a row. While her kids were puking. Yes honey, you can rest.

Thank you so much for giving me space to ride that whole emotional roller coaster. I’m really glad Noah and I got to talk for probably 24 hours in that time period. We are… talkers. We have a lot to process right now.

God I love this man.

Taking breaks from the emotional processing and bonding for vicious sex just seems like, yeah… that’s what I signed on for.

Today I am setting up a guest bedroom for a bit. Pam could use a place to sleep. We have a weekend long guest coming soon. Another friend spends the night sometimes and can’t crawl over the tile work. It’s going to suck because it is in the play room with the window removed but the garage doesn’t work right now. At least it is warm! And Noah has one more date on the books. I’m not going to be an asshole.

Damnit.

I don’t know why I have this thing about not canceling but I do. Once something is scheduled… canceling is… whoa. I don’t do that.

It hurts people when you make plans with them and don’t keep them. That… that hurts. It gets their hopes up and then makes them feel like they aren’t that important. I don’t like to do that. I try very hard to meet the expectations I set. Which is really complicated for someone who is as moody as I am. Heh. When I negotiate for weeks then wake up in a mood…

Heh.

With casual people I can get it up. I can take on a role for a limited date and do what I said I’d do. I know that in the long run I’ll be happy with myself.

With Noah that’s… shit I can’t do that all the time.

Ok, here’s a weird sticky wicket about why I’m less inclined to ask Noah to cancel the date he has scheduled. That person… I’ve played with. I’d uhm really like to play with her again some day. Which uhm yeah. Not to mention that she is a very close friend who has been present at some of the absolute most intimate moments of my life.

Complicated.

And after his date with her we had ridiculously hot sex because I felt very comfortable fantasizing about her and we were kinda… yeah. That wasn’t awful and bad. I freaked out because they did it in her house in a way that I started juxtaposing with pictures of my kids and that made me sick to my stomach.

Because my kids go there. Ugh. Gross. No. Yuck. Bad. No.NOnonononononono

See, this is so random and fucking weird.

It isn’t that I object to Noah having a sexual relationship with her. I really don’t.

I wish I understood what my boundaries were. That would make this so much easier.

Near as I can tell the only way to figure out my boundaries is to keep fucking up and crossing them so that I can course correct and stop doing that bit. That’s the only thing that has ever worked.

Speaking of which, it’s 6:30. Time to go on duty. Bye internet. I love you. Talk to you later.