Missing pieces

I miss kink.

I don’t miss sex, much, (although if I were offered from a certain somebody I certainly wouldn’t say no), but I miss playing.

I miss being hurt.

I miss the headspace that comes from painful sensation, turning that same pain into … something different.

I miss subspace.

I miss ropes and cuffs and gags and blindfolds, and being comfortable enough in who I was to be it in public spaces.

And I’m very much afraid that I have come so far away from it, from a mental standpoint, that I won’t ever be able to find it again. If the only way I can feel whole is to keep myself alone, I will not ever find a partner who will hurt me. If the only way I can feel secure is to keep myself separate, I will never trust anyone enough to play casually.

I miss kink.

I also miss not feeling irreconcilably broken.

Originally published at idle musings. You can comment here or there.

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