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11:14 p.m. - Wednesday, Jul. 04, 2012
Notes on a Scandal
Without the Yahtzee or the Large Straight, I had no hope. He was over a hundred points ahead, and with that - off came the panties. He was the winner, but he let the choice be mine. So my choice was my fantasy. He would call the shots until he orgasmed and then he would leave.

It was exactly what I wanted. When I orgasm I feel out of control, exposed, vulnerable . . .like a piece of me has been taken away. Stolen. It makes me angry. Withdrawn. Mean. Regretful. So to keep my orgasm was to keep my power.

I took a shower later that night and orgasmed alone. I still could not think of him. I could only think of them. And worse. I imagine things I would never really want.

And this thought pattern is in direct opposition to my current transformation. Isn't it? I was desperate to leave my body. Desperate. Everything I did was an attempt to punish the body I hated.

But the fast, the yoga, the running, the veganism . . .they are reflections of . . .maybe not love . . .but at least gratitude for the body.

If I want gratitude and love, is it helpful . . .or healthy . . .or safe . . .or useful . . .to have the dark, isolated orgasms of the past? Do they hold me back or are they . . .just what they are?

And what's the compromise? This isn't what he wants - it's what I want. And if he gives me what I want, what does he get in return? Do I grit my teeth and hold the anger in the pit of my stomach . . .in my clenched fists . . .to orgasm for him once in a while? Is that a fair trade?

Not to sound unhappy. I actually feel satisfied. I can't believe it was that easy to get what I wanted . . .

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