Perfectly Imperfect?

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There are times when I feel like a creature of flaws.

I used to do this glazing technique that was a crackle glaze over already finished tile I got from a scrap yard. When the coat of glaze was heavy enough it would remain on the tile and do this weird bubbling effect. When the layer was too light and I miscalculated the glaze would chip off, leaving these unfinished holes in my piece.

Sometimes that’s what I see when I look at myself. I am afraid that if I keep people close to me for too long the good parts will chip off in their mind, leaving all these damaged holes they didn’t know about. No one wants to deal with someone who’s just a bunch of damage and flaws. Physically, I can rip myself apart easily. I’m an overweight midget who looks twelve. Emotionally I can be immature and self deprecating (kinda like right now). Mentally I spiral at times and get depressive spikes during times like this where my life just isn’t on track.

The day started perfectly. I woke up wrapped in Kane’s arms, which turned into snuggling, caressing, and talking. There are times when I like waking up to a cock between my legs..and there are times when I relish the comfort of company. There was a point where he carried on a conversation we had started yesterday and I thought finished.

“I know you hate your tummy” he said at one point, and I do. He was running a hand down my lower back and over my ass. “But when you lay like this you are perfect, with the perfect little heart shaped ass, shapely legs, and a tight little waist.” I don’t know what he sees at times…but he made me smile.

After he left for work I got up and tried to cook an experimental breakfast. Once, twice, three times I tried something that I had made before..three times it failed. I finally went to the go-to bowl of cereal, leaving the pan on the stove in frustration.

I get my shit together to FINALLY go to the DMV and get a California license. I got there, pulled out the birth certificate that my father sent me…and saw it was issued in 1999.

Now I’m young, but I’m not that young.

It was my baby sister’s, which he sent me on accident. I called and informed him of the mistake, and he cursed a bit, but figured out that we could fix the problem by Friday. Still, it was a trip wasted and I was frustrated.

I went home and started a new project to sell on Etsy with materials I already had. I finished one, exercised, then came upstairs to finish the other. For some reason the parts of the other weren’t lining up. I undid it, tried again. It’s fucked up again. I undid it, tried it a third time..and threw the piece down on the table in frustration, got up, and took out the trash for Kane. One of my tasks is to do any dirty dishes that I make, and I’m normally on dinner duty when I cook. It was so late in the day and I was so frustrated I thought I would just wash them later when I needed the pan for cooking.

I didn’t see that the trash bag had leaked into the bottom of the trash can, and didn’t think that Kane would want to cook. He has a thing with rotten food, he just can’t do it. The site of it killed his appetite entirely. And then I heard the sound of him doing my dishes. Chip chip chip.

I went and hid in the studio room and started typing this blog up. Of course, he found me, and told me to come out. He asked me why I was hiding..and I told him I fucked up. “Did I say you fucked up?” he asked me. No. No he hadn’t, but I knew a lot of what went wrong was my fault. “Let me be the judge of that. When you fuck up I will tell you.

Easier said than done.

Now he’s in the bedroom..he didn’t eat dinner. I’m on the couch. Normally we curl up. We eat dinner together. Snuggle. Watch TV. Tonight.. I guess it’s just off. Part of me wants to go in the bedroom. Part of me wants to hide all the chips and stay out here. It’s easier to hide, to keep people at a distance, because the more you let them in the more it hurts when they leave.

I have let my Dominant and my boyfriend in more than I have let any man. I trust him completely, and love him more than I thought capable..so why am I still afraid of fucking up so badly that he throws me back? We talk about a future, with kids, a dog, and cats if he can stand the litter box. He says he accepts me how I am..which would be a first for any man in my life..

So why do I still feel like I’m rotten inside? There’s this gaping “I”M NOT GOOD ENOUGH” hole in me..and I don’t know how to word it without sounding like I’m going “pity me, pity me.” How do you talk to someone about that? “So, I know that you love me and all, but I’ve been screwing up in my mind so much lately that I feel like the shit on your shoe and I’m not sure what to do about it.” I know the “but I don’t see you that way and you didn’t fuck up” answer won’t fix it. He says I didn’t fuck up tonight..but I still want to curl up in a ball and hide.

I almost wish I had fucked up in his mind..then maybe he would punish me and this feeling wold go away. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just caught in a spiral due to the whole lack of job thing..the bad mood comes and goes. He didn’t kick me out. He didn’t tell me to go home.

I just mentally did it to myself.

Maybe that’s the problem.

Someday, maybe, I’ll see more than just my flaws.

Yours with chips

~Rena

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