A Ghost of a Feeling

“You limit yourself”, He insisted, saying that it wasn’t His involvement in my life that made magickal things happen, but my attitude. Ok. I had to admit that my feelings and mood and attitude about Him could make or break the “magick”. If He was ignoring me or angry with me, it was very hard on me. So hard to feel anything good.

My pussy literally feels like its hard wired to HIS mood. The words He uses with me and the feeling that is all around this astonishing connection that happens despite our distance (I swear I can breathe in the scent of His skin even though we’ve never met) has this power over me. Yes, I’m aware that all of this is created in my mind. He’s not here with me. He is not setting up men in situations for me to experience. He is not even able to physically protect me if something should go wrong. I know. Yet it matters not.

Magick STILL happens when He is “with” me.

There is no other way to explain how mountains move to bring things into existence. Yes, I admitted to Him that I can and do create opportunities and an energy all by myself. I’ve felt it. It’s not as intense though.

It’s this meshing and melding of our energies. Like a dance of fire that consumes me, at least…perhaps He feels it too.

For me to want to reach out and experience things with other men, even woman, I must feel that energy. At the least, I have to believe some way or some how He WILL feel that energy with me again. That I have the chance to bridge our distance by something I do. That need and deep desire in me for Him can and has made magick.

I suppose there’s a gap in me owning my own creative power. Maybe that was actually His point. That I either give Him credit…or I blame Him for being such a slut. And the backbone of that issue is the way I view being a slut. That I still feel some guilt and shame.

There is, however, a ghost of a feeling inside that this journey…being a slut…is actually sacred. That deep deep behind it all is a spiritual offering of my body. The offering is to the men I fuck, but truly it is to Him and whatever energy fills this planet. It is the single most moving experience I’ve ever felt in my life. I’m me, but I become more than just me. Humbled by something I can’t fully understand yet. I only know that it’s beyond me and it only lives when I don’t deny it but I also don’t try to claim it.

Like I said, it’s a ghost of a feeling that haunts me mostly. I know it when I feel it. And that is all I know.

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