Tonight, my heart hurts. Sick from cruel words from an unexpected sources, and seeds of discontent have sprouted, until all I want to do is weep and bury my head in blankets and just... disappear. Runaway from all of these silly humans and their I haven't even told Sir about the painful comments, nor about being so miserable today, on the edge of tears and fury, my ribcage circling a ball of pain. I am finding it more and more difficult to open up to him lately, even though he tells me that I can at any time. But he never opens up to me. And he never pries, never tries to dig in and look past this veneer and see Me. I wish he would. I wish he would care about what went on behind my mind, wish he felt never ending curiosity about my inner workings. What I dream of, the best moment of my day, what I dream about, what I see in the future, my biggest fears, my most painful moment. Sometimes, he says, "Tell me a secret." And I will come up with a little story, nothing too deep because I don't know if he really wants to know. He used to love to read when I wrote pretty posts about him on Tumblr, so when I made this blog, partly as a way to open up to him without my awkward anxiety of face-to-face conversations... I told him about it, offered to send him the link, but he wasn't too interested, and I never did. I have tried to ask him questions before. Silly little things like, "What are five things you want to do before winter ends." "What is your fear?" "What was the best thing you ate for Thanksgiving?" And all of them are ignored, none of them are answered, and I feel foolish for trying. Maybe he doesn't want to open himself up to me. It has been months since we have started hanging out, yet there is still so much I don't know. I know his favorite color, his favorite food, his favorite game... I don't know what he wants to be in the future. I don't know any of his goals, his dreams, his inner workings. And he doesn't seem to try to discover mine.

It makes me weep. Especially given the cruel words from Kajira's Sir, calling me a slut and implying that boys only want to hang out with me because I am an easy lay... I am filled with fear and doubt and terror, and I can't even tell him, because I can't tell if he really wants to know. Maybe he doesn't care about what goes on under my skin. Maybe he just wants a pretty girl in his bed, a companion to keep loneliness at bay, with no ties. Maybe my face and my body are the important things, my kisses and my adoration. Not Me.

I broke down a few weeks ago, and poured my heart out in a silly stupid love letter. I wanted to open up, to show him a part of me, to be vulnerable and passionate, hoping to incite that same passion or curiosity in him. Hoping to get some words. He received it, said that he loved it, it made him smile, and I should keep writing letters like that... But he didn't have any sort of deep response back, he didn't open up, he didn't share his feelings or his thoughts.

There is a wall around him, and I can't get in. And it scares me. Terrifies me with the thought that maybe I am being a foolish girlthing, for developing feelings when maybe it would have been the best thing to keep the walls up. I know that he wants me to say the Big Three Words, but no matter my feelings, I can't say them. Because I want to know him, who he truly is, all of the good and the bad, everything that is under the surface, and I want him to see all of Me, not just the superficial starchild exterior. That is all my past lovers have been content with, sans my ex-master, and I could never give myself to them fully. Because they didn't want more. And it feels like Mr. Bones doesn't either.

In only a few months, we went from texting all of the time, silly sexual yummy texts, to barely any, just basic "Good morning, I miss you, yayayayay!" Have we plateaued already? Have we run out of things to talk about when there is still so much we haven't said or shared?

I have so much passion inside of me, and I wish he would reach in and rip it out, demand it of me, to not accept anything less than ALL that I have to give, to be vulnerable with me, to let me see HIM and to feel like he genuinely wants to see ME. I want him to demand more of me, to push me, to let me pull it out of him, to wrap ourselves in passion and beauty and depth and wonder, to go beyond the surface. I want a relationship that takes us to the bottom of the ocean, strange currents and unseen sights, where anything can happen, completely lost in each other.

Instead, I am sitting here feeling sorry for myself, feeling lonely and completely alone and Less Than and lacking and like good for nothing but an okay lay.

When will I learn?