My Vicky Life

Sigh

I thought I was feeling better, but that thing I blogged about yesterday is still upsetting me. I think what’s most troubling is simply the fact that I lost a friend, by my own doing, which is something that’s never happened to me before. I’d try to mend fences, and I think he might forgive me, but I still can’t get past his BDSM blog. He tried to explain that it’s all about love, so I don’t know why I can’t take his word for it. After all, there are those who believe that same-sex encounters are unnatural and wrong, but I don’t think that way in the slightest. So why can I be so open-minded about that, but not about other kinds of sexual practices between consenting adults? Why, when I look at his blog (which seems to be getting more disturbing each day), do I only see the torture and exploitation of women, and not the love, or even the mutually enjoyable sex he assured me is there? I wish he had never shown me this blog. He’s still the same person he was before I knew about it, the person who was my friend, and had shown me many kindnesses. Why can’t I see that person anymore? I wonder (but would never ask) if any of his multitude of other friends know about this other side (or dare I say shade) of him, and if they do, how they manage to look beyond it. An even more difficult question is how can I still be so hot for this man? I guess it’s just denial of what I now know to be his “special needs,” which I could never meet in a million years. This is actually the only thing that makes any kind of sense, since denial is one of the stages of grief, and this whole thing grieves me. One thing I know I should do is just stop looking at the goddamn blog, but it’s the only thing I have left of him now, and that’s nobody’s fault but mine.