Of a Different Kind, a Contemplation

It has been many months since I last wrote here.  In that time much has changed.  I am older, painfully wiser, and far more contemplative, at least for now.  It has been several months since PB and I were together.  She has a new owner.  I have not found much energy to search.  I recently read a superb article by DAEMONUMX titled “The Unique Grief of Ending a BDSM Relationship“.  She speaks eloquently of those moments when deeds, tasks that must be done, are now acutely different, making the bed, cleaning up after a meal.  Moments that used to be filled with actions and conversation of confirmation and bond, now, just tasks.  You search for something within yourself that is no longer there, something solid, a base, a defining characteristic that makes a part of who you are.  No longer there it is like that feeling that you forgot something.  You check to see you have your wallet, your keys, did you pack everything, where is that list.  Something missing, but of a different kind.

Emotional pain is a peculiar thing.  It is the human condition to search for reasons so you can work to stop it.  What do I do?  Where do I go?  I do not know.  I think, at this time, I just have to wait.  People write scripts.  I hurt, and this is the reason.  Build the characters, recall the set, remember the props, and decide on the actions.  Unfortunately the actions tend to just create more of the same.  More pain.

There is much within a BDSM relationship that can be found to profit what we call a “Vanilla” relationship, examination, purposeful and cooperative creation, personal decisions on how the occupants create what the relationship will be.  It necessitates a commitment to truth, honesty, and transparency, something lacking in many relationships I see around me.  In the dissolving of that relationship there is a strong tendency to self accuse, particularly on the part of the one assuming responsibility.  So the scripts will often cast you as the Antagonist.  Strange to be both the pro and Antagonist.  A script of a Different Kind.

In meditative advice, it is taught to just sit with it.  Look at it.  Not the reasons, the script, just the pain.  Where do you feel it?  Where do you put it?  There is nothing wrong with the pain, just what you do because of it.  It is OK to feel it.  It is real.  Don’t run from it, hide it, squash it down.  Sit with it.  It is OK to hurt.  At least, so they say.  Contemplation.


  1. I haven’t written much either. The sum of my loss since the beginning of 2020 is the equivalent of destruction of the spiritual kind. The one nearest to my heart, she was my heart, my daughter was murdered in February 17, 2020. Not the same since that day. Just sitting with it, contemplating, acknowledging the pain. The ending was written by someone else’s hand.

  2. Good Lord, I’m so terribly sorry for your loss, Lotizanzen. My own pain feels immeasurably small comparatively. I will pray for your heart and healing, as well as that of your family. If there is anything i can do, a stranger half a world away… whom you don’t know from Adam, but sincerely, if you need an ear who knows nothing and can not possibly judge but only listen, please reach out.

    To MasterArach,
    thank you for this post. Thank you for teaching me how to accept the truth, and then what to do with the grief it brings. I’m grateful.

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