I was happily enjoying talking about “nothing”. In (what I thought would be) my last message I mentioned that I was getting taken out to a comedy show tonight to “cheer me up”. And I mentioned no one seems to believe me. I told him to have a good day and was about to get to work.
“Nobody believes you what?” popped up.
“That I am ok with you”
“Hmm” was his response. And then he logged off. I was stunned. WTF?
“Ouch. That did hurt.” I texted and then admitted “Sad, yes, but my own fault.”
He logged back on, said nothing, and then logged back off five minutes later. What did he want? I really was ok. I even have a date tonight. I was being adult and civil. What the hell? After a few minutes of stewing, I realized I wasn’t “ok”.
“Fine. Honestly I do wish it hadn’t ended. But I would rather be able to be adult and still be able to talk to you than nothing at all. I wish I knew your take on this. I know I pissed you off and I am so fucking sorry! Please understand though how much I value you. If you don’t want to talk about something just tell me.”
No response. What the hell does he want from me?
“Hell if you DO want to talk about something, tell me. Quit fucking with my head though. You are confusing me.”
Minutes passed. Nothing. Alright dammit. I deserve an answer! I sent the last two messages straight to his phone.
Silence. I kind of really needed to know quickly if there was something going on in his head. I have a date tonight, and have every intention of fucking him… again. If there is anything Sir needed from me or wanted to tell me, it was getting down to the wire.
“You never actually said you wanted it to be over. You avoided it. I inferred it. Is it over Sir? Yes or no?”
I waited. Nothing again. I started to busy myself with morning tasks. Tried to be patient. Got angry. Kept working. Got furious. You know what? Fuck this sub bullshit. FUCK HIM!
“You finally managed to do what so many couldn’t during this past week. Got me pissed at you. If you want me, I am yours happily. If you don’t I will get over it. Fuck. Just fucking tell me. Don’t I deserve at least that?”
Then all hell broke loose at work. Real life-or-death shit. Down went the phone until the situation was stabilized and the paramedics were on the way.
“You have sent me eight text messages. Why?” was waiting when I could get back.
What more could I say? What the hell did he want from me? Why was he fucking with my head? Why? Fine. If he wanted the truth, the whole truth, I would tell him. I knew what it was. No more pretending.
I asked my manager to cover me. If I ever call Sir at work, it has to be really important. I had a phone call to make.
I didn’t expect him to answer. I was prepared for the voicemail. He answered.
“Because I don’t want it to be over, Sir.”
He sounded genuinely confused. He asked where all this had come from. I proceeded to chew him out for “hanging up” on chat, ignoring me, and fucking with my emotions when I was doing my best to move on.
He laughed a little, kindly. He then explained that his computer had automatically rebooted during our chat, and he had realized he was late for work. He was late because he was talking to me, and could not respond while driving. He did respond as soon as he got there, and I did not answer him.
I looked at my watch, did a little quick figuring, then laughed too. He was telling the truth. I could hear it in his voice. I know that voice well. I had mindfucked myself, yet again. And in the process realized I still couldn’t let go.
“Tell me, Sir, is it over?”
He started to try to explain. He started to tell me about an email he was writing to me.
“Just tell me, Sir. Yes or no?”
I thanked him for answering. I did not ask anything else, but he started talking again about trying to come up with the right way to explain in his email.
“Just tell me Sir. I will understand.”
He told me his reasons. There were two. And they were damned good reasons. One of them was a totally awesome reason! I will not share them here, because they are his. And neither reason had anything at all to do with me, or my behavior. This was going to have happened anyway, even if I had been the “perfect” sub. Apparently the timing of my misbehavior, and the resulting guilt trip I put myself on hindered him telling me.
I told him that I completely understood. Really, totally, honestly understood. I even congratulated him on one of them. And I am very happy for him.
“Are we friends, Sir?”
And then we started to talk. Really, really talk. About him, about me, about feelings, about all sorts of stuff. I mentioned again that I was going out tonight, and he asked “With who?”
I laughed and said “I reserve the right not to have to answer your questions anymore if I don’t want to.” He knew what I was saying, but didn’t feel guilty or bad telling him.
He laughed too. We had both talked way too long. Now I was an hour behind instead of an hour ahead. Hell, I had been off work for twenty minutes, and I still had a ton of stuff to do.
Before we got off the phone, he said “Be careful. But have a good time tonight.” He meant it too.
I love Sir! I am going to have such an awesome fucking time tonight!!! ;D