I have spent a great deal of time in the past few days thinking over everything that occured when I lived out west for a while. For the sake of my protection, I will be using "fake" names of the people involved. That way, I can't be sued for libel or slander or any other stupid thing like that because I sure wouldn't put it past him to do that. So I'll call him "Jack", his wife "Doe" and their child "Billy".
How I ended up involved with Jack is basically a story of "life sucks, deal with it!" I had an operation in 1997. It was a fusion of the sacroiliac joint which is basically part of the pelvis. In Septbember 1998, I found out the fusion was broken. At that time I had military insurance. After exhausting all my medical options where I was living, I discovered that I had to move closer to a military base. I had very few choices, so I chose to go out west and stay with Jack and his wife. I arrived in December of 1998. I had known Jack for a little over a year online and had met him a couple times in real life. We had talked a great deal, online and on the phone. At first he scared me a little, yet excited me to no end. The way he described his preferences for BDSM were the ways I wanted to be submissive. We talked alot about everything, not just bdsm. And from the things he said, and the way we were able to get along, I thought we fit together well. When I arrived at his house, it was not to be his "slave" or even his "sub". Though we could "play" if we chose to. The conversations that had begun online continued in real life. We talked about everything. Running a business, kids, politics, bdsm, and anything else we could think of. He was quite dominant, in that he touched something in me that made me easily submit. It was not until January that we played or even made love. When the decision was made for us to enter into a relationship, I did so without it being based on "love" or even considering love as part of the relationship. At first, things went so well. We talked alot, he would tell me the things he thought I had done right, plus those I had messed up on. He would listen to my thoughts and feelings, no matter the cause. He was compassionate and caring, yet a bit strict. One memory that sticks in my brain is what happened on the night of Christmas 1998. I had a pain crisis, which is when my pain level breaks through all medication and skyrockets out of control. I was in bed, with severe muscle spasms and literally crying from the pain. He stayed with me every minute, massaging my lower back, and doing everything he could to make me feel better. Heating pads, ice bags, cuddles, and soothing words. Eventually he ordered his wife Doe to take me to the ER for medication. When I got back, he helped me into the bed because though the pain was under control again, I couldn't walk very well. The next few days he was very attentive, and seemed genuinely worried about me. This memory, and a few like it, are what made it so hard for me to realize and accept what he soon became. The two were so opposite, I could not reconcile them.
More later..dinner time.
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