I am not a good girl

Sir asked me to come to him tonight. Actually he demanded it.

I cannot.

I feel sick and nervous and scared. I am so torn. This is not who I am.

I have nothing tonight. No resilience. I feel tears burning behind my eyes, sobs choking my throat. If I went tonight I would break. I don't know if I am ready to do that. Tonight I need comfort and kindness. I know that staying here, being here I will not get it. I think perhaps I would get it if I went to him, not in the way I want but perhaps in the way I need. This heightened emotional response is new for me. I do not want to be in a space where my emotions are there and raw. This is not what I wanted from this. The physicality I was prepared for. The headfuck I was not - am not. This is not who I am.

I feel the desperate desire to see him. I expected it to take the form of my cunt slick and throbbing. I expected my breasts to be full and heavy with want, my nipples hard, expectant. I cannot abide the fact that this is not how it is playing out. I feel it in my chest. It is in my chest where my fullest emotions lie quiet and undisturbed. My body he can take. My pain I give him willingly. My tears of frustration, sobs of pain I reluctantly surrender. My sorrow and emotional torment, weeping as a child weeps are mine alone. The torture, honest torture of wanting him to to see that, to rip it open astounds me, horrifies me, paralyzes me. I don't know where to go. I don't know what to do.

This is not who I am.

I do not feel ready for this. This is too much, too fast. I am still fighting, still wanting this on my terms. I am not a good girl.

I crave it but not tonight. Tonight I am not ready.