I've been gone for a long time now. The partner I refer to in recent(ish) posts below is gone. It didn't work. Turns out, we weren't compatible. And, once again, the fetish ended up keeping things together longer than they would have otherwise remained, because we had something to bond through (albeit in a fucked up, manipulative, damaging way). But, what started out looking like love, ended up looking like something else. For some reason, she seemed very interested and willing to talk about and explore the fetish. I thought this made her a good partner. But I realize now, in hindsight, that she was just doing the best she could to connect with me, and some part of her consciousness probably came to the realization that there were few common denominators remaining. So she took an uncalculated risk, and it didn't play out.
In addition to being a reader of the blog, she also became an author. We didn't go very far with that; certainly not as far as originally expected. So, all you see is a fragment below. It would be interesting to see what she'd say now, a year later, if she decided to complete the previously planned series. It might actually be more insightful to see what one's perspective would be, in the absence of a bond of love or trust or whatnot. Would I like what I hear? Would you like what you hear? Would it be a kind of mirror that would feel pretty horrible? Who knows.
I know what sort of fears my inner critic has. In fact, when the relationship ended (and when other relationships have ended, where this fetish has been a component), one of my first fears is "What are they going to say to their friends about it?" I always kid myself that my partners would not talk to their friends about the fetish. But seriously. Is that a realistic thought? Women will discuss all aspects of their sex lives with one another. And you can be sure that something as unusual as a smoking fetish would make the conversation list. I don't even know if I can go there. Just the thought of being in the same room as people who have heard about the fetish from someone else. It makes me cringe, and feel naked and exposed. "Freak" is what I think to myself. Even though it's certainly no weirder than people who want a thumb up their ass, or who require some sort of dress-up, or whatever. But all those things feel solidly in the realm of the sexual. The smoking fetish feels like it's quirkier because it is not ubiquitously categorized as sexual. I really don't know, though. Maybe that makes me more interesting? I'd just like to think that what I share in fantasy world remains in fantasy world. But I know I'm kidding myself. I can be certain that when my previous partner and I ended rather abruptly (my doing) and painfully, she probably confided in anger with a circle slightly larger than the one or two people who may have been privy to the information during the good times.
Why do I care? I just do. Self-acceptance is a long road, I guess.
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