Dammit!

Yesterday was a weird and hard day for me. There were so many moving parts to it that this will either be a long long post or I will break it up into a couple of different postings... We shall see...

I stayed home from work... The weekend was harder for me than I thought it would be... My heart had many small moments this weekend where it cracked a little deeper and splintered a little further... You see, I have not actually allowed my heart to shatter at the loss of my son. It is cracking as it is held together, but a time will come where something will hit it just right and it will burst into a million pieces... I can feel it...

So, waking up on Monday was difficult. I woke with a headache and an exhaustion that I am not used to. I hopped up and took care of my Papa Bear, like a good little fox and then made the grocery list. On our grocery trip, I snapped at him... You see, my emotions are all still locked in a box and I have not been myself... I find it difficult to control my tone of voice or understand how I feel about different things... He was making small talk and I jumped down his throat about coddling me... Sigh...

So then we had to talk about it... Talk about the bitchy tone... Talk about the problems... Talk about the ache that I try to ignore... Talk, talk, talk...

After talking, we put our youngest down for a nap and Papa Bear told me to get the ropes. 2 ropes to be exact... And then he tied me up, like really secured my legs open with my wrists bound at my knees, with a little movement possible... Just like I like it... Able to move, but only as far as I am allowed within my limits... My perfect life defined by a length of rope... He then used me as he explained that his rope will always come with being used... I was able to relax more and take a really good amount of anal... Much more than normal... The rope markings were heavenly, as we're the pins and needles as my foot started to wake up (it fell asleep, which made us remove the rope faster).

Papa Bear wished me a fun night on my date as I was scheduled to go to a concert with my Queen and then to do some rope with my Sir afterward. Excited that he provided his blessing, I got ready to go. He had been so good about giving me the time I need away... Allowing me my happy escape...

The concert was pretty dull, but it was nice to chat with and stare at my Queen furtively through the night. I quickly glanced at her, not sure how to behave. I always feel inept when I am with her... I don't know what to do... Ever... I know what to do when we are in a private setting, but out in public or even in the car together, I feel out of place. At one point, we were supposed to be girlfriends, but we never really defined what that meant, so I never really knew what to do, expect, or be... I make the same chatter with her that I do with other friends... I think the only real difference was that she gets the benefits...

So I finally opened my mouth about it... We talked about the awkwardness of the relationship. Of the rocky start that culminated in an explosion and then the rebuild that we were in... I know now that I will never fit the needs that they have... I may provide a welcome escape or stress relief, but they will not be able to love me the way I want to be loved by my significant others... They can provide me with a fun time, but that would be all... So we talked about that as an option... What if I was just a toy to them? What if I was a book to be checked out? It could work, right? My Queen agrees that we need to sit down and talk and discuss and redefine... All of us...

Upon returning home, I turned into a hot mess. I fell apart at the thought of becoming a simple toy to people that I truly love. I started to question my ability to be a real girl... If I am willing to be defined as a toy instead of as a person, what does that make me. I like being objectified, but do I want that more or less... If I really like being objectified, why does being a toy lower the value that I have for myself in my mind? Do I want a relationship with anyone that is devoid of love? Can someone love a toy?

Things were so much simpler before the relationships started... What if i slowly back away? Will anyone even notice? Would they fight to keep me in their lives or be apathetic with the loss of a play thing? Would he care or would he just move on? And so I struggled with it and talked with Papa Bear because our contract defines me as his property, but does not define the relationships I can have with others, other than that they need to ask his permission for access to his slave and that open communication is a must, which are both items I agree with... Does this regulation automatically turn me into a toy in the eyes of others?

Papa Bear stated that he didn't feel like I should be a toy for other people. To him, I am more valuable than to be compared to a library book, to be checked out and returned. Papa Bear believes that the ones that truly love and deserve my time and attention are people that want to hang around with our whole family and want to see me when sexual things are not involved. He wants me to be his toy during sex, but his good girl and slave princess during the rest of the day. He feels like I am worth more than I think I am... He feels like I let people take advantage of me because my heart loves with such a fierceness...

All I know is that I love and live for my Papa Bear. I love my Sir and my Queen, but I cannot be the girlfriend they wanted me to be... I love and miss my pretty girl, but I could not be the girlfriend she wanted either... Lol, maybe I am the crappy poly person...

Am I okay to settle for feeling less valuable so I can have a sexual escape in my life or should I refocus on living for my Papa Bear to get back to the space where I am happiest?