Wrong wrong right- episode one

For as long as I can remember, I have always been drawn to the wrong kinds of men.  Coming from as conventional a family as mine, I quickly learned:

“If they like him, he’s likely broken.”

The rose colored glasses didn’t work for me.  I knew what I want, but didn’t know what I want.

I want what I want.

I never stop daydreaming.  In my mind I’m always dancing dancing… in that dress in the moonlight.. waiting for my dancecart to be filled by this amazing brutal prince.

Perhaps it’s psychological scarring.  Abuse can do that to you.  But the strange thing is that even though you know it was wrong and detest that it happened, you find yourself craving another form of it.  The key, like everything it seems, is moderation.  You become this twisted version of reality.. drawn by sadism, masochism, subordination and insuborniation, order and disorder, etctera etctera.

It may make no sense besides nonsense… but if it doesn’t, then feel the misfortune of being fortunate enough to be fucked up enough have a greater sense of understanding.

Pavlov proved that given the proper variables, with time, you can get the trained response you desire.  All people are capable of the most intensive forms of manipulation.  Some use obvious means, but the truly great ones are the ones that mindfuck you.  They are the diseases you cannot free yourself from.. but you wouldn’t want to if you tried.

Weak men succumb to strong women by nature.  I like to toy with the idea.. for I do not want a weak man.  A man willing to worship me aimlessly holds little appeal to me.  I want a man that will buck back at me at the same time as he holds the torch.  I want someone who will press my buttons and get under my skin.  I think that intelligence is the most attractive quality anyone can ever possess… and that it is too often neglected.

I want the man that’s too busy with work than to need to be babysat 24/7.  I want the man that will take a few moments, and look up from the computer screen and tell me that despite that he’s working like he is, that he still thinks I’m beautiful.  I want stolen kisses in the rain.  I want flowers “just because” and not just because you told him to send you them just because.

I want a man who can get a hint without having to give him one.  I want someone perceptive and can fuck like a minx.  I want someone who isn’t afraid to be seen with me in public.. who isn’t afraid to entertain forbidden notions there…

I want a man who’s going to put me on a pedestal an build me up, take  a sledgehammer to it, then rebuild it back up again…

Wrong wrong.. but oh so right.  Yes indeed. Yes indeed… please please please.

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