Then the ball crashed

At 4:30 this morning a beautiful blown glass ball we had hanging in the sky view window at the top of our bedroom wall crashed to the floor and exploded into hundreds of pieces. That won't be catching sunbeams and reflecting them on our ceiling again. At first I thought that somehow our window had broken. We had wild, violent storms here last night, and perhaps that had done it, but then I realized the sounds from outside were no louder. Had the window broken, we'd have a volume increase. We turned the light on and realized what had happened. Then it flashed through my mind, what was the "mystical" significance of this sudden event?

I realized then the extenet to which I'd come to expect mysticism and "magic" to be a factor in my life as I'd passed through the recently destroyed relationship with the nameless ones. I wonder how many snakes had to be squeezed to get all that oil and what has to be wrong with me to be so susceptible to it. The significance of the event is that the ball was hung by a simple small screw hook, in a plaster board ceiling, and what with all the vibrations from last nighht's thunder, it broke free and crashed to the floor. There was no magic.

We were then wide awake. Normally this would be an opportunity for us to play and make love. There has been no passion or excitment here ince our ball crashed last Thursday. I can tell Sue is longing, and I have just no interest. Even interest in my usually most outrageously exciting activity, spanking, is dead.

Each day, I'm generally better about this ending. Each day I realize too how dysfunctional I still am, and in that contrast, I realize how hard my ball crashed. And I see in the reactions to me by t and sue how much they feel hurt by my dysfunction in reaction to it.

The night before last I was up all night. It was amaizing, but I was simply wide awake, and couldn't turn my head off reviewing voice sounds, and IM's, and picutures from our brief time together. Thank god that phase seems to have ended. I am working at making them faceless and turning them to the nameless ones. A memory in concept only with no power to hold me or hurt me/us.

I am flat. Everything went to black and white when our "ball crashed" last Thursday.

I can't beleive I'm writing more about this. I've already humiliated myself with my wailing in pain and tantrumming in rage over this. What the hell, I expereinced non-consensual "heart play." I might as well tag on my own public humiliation scenario.

As I look back at this maybe the ball that fell from the ceiling this morning had more significance than I thought. There was no magic.

Tom