N showed up at my house a ghost of her normal self. She drops horribly. Refuses to eat, lashes out, says she’s never going to do another scene. Tries to vanilla fuck swingers.
I held her at the door for 5 minutes as she just broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. I was able to get her coat off and we moved to the couch where she continued to cry with her head on my lap. After about a half an hour she could talk again.
She told me all about her frenzy and her shutting fgd out. The way he deals with drop is to call up a vanilla fuck buddy and basically screw it out of his system. This was in direct conflict with her need to be taken care of so she became irrational.
She was able to hold off the break by meeting for lunch with the hostess, but that only lasted but so long. She kept saying they just don’t understand we just need to be held.
So that’s what I did, we talked and held eachother. The puppies joined in and we chatted the night away in a cuddle pile.
She had asked earlier why tonight? I had no clue what she was talking about and she said that I was cleaning. I told her I’d be done by the time that she arrived and I think she doubted it.
See I’ve come up with a tangible way to not drop as badly when Sir leaves. Before he arrives I reconfigure the house in a manner that is functional to him, not to me. I pick up the scatter rug, move chairs around, about 50 little things occur. When he’s here I don’t clean, well except the kitchen. The day he leaves I change everything back and clean. I banish all of the food smells and return it to a cinnamon vanilla ish environment. I make it a show place. The reason? I’m hardly ever there. When I am there I have no need to have “stuff” all over. An organized house leads to an organized mind. When things are not where they should be my anxiety level rises.
Plus it’s a signal from my eyes to my brain, the visit is over.
I used to drop the moment I walked through the door, but now that I have a task of my own making that doesn’t happen.