a disturbance

I was laying in the bath yesterday evening, thinking. About my muse. About me. About a conversation we'd had about affection, and being affectionate. I told her I'm rubbish at it, because I am. I just don't know what to... do. Does that make sense? I feel really awkward when I'm shown affection, and I don't seem to be very good at giving it, either.

I know it's not normal... but in my defence, I think it's my mother's fault. She was very heavy handed with her "love" and didn't really give me the cuddles or affection that I wanted - nay, needed. And I think because of that, I just never learned about it.

But even less normal is the frankly rather disturbing revelation I had while I was laying there idly popping Radox bubbles. I can be affectionate (that's not the disturbing bit)... but seemingly only when someone's done something "bad" to me. My mother was bad to me before anyone else was, simply by not giving me the kind of love I needed...

Now, is that a connection to what makes me me, or am I clutching at non-existent straws like the daft bint that I am?

Either way though, it disturbs me that I can be tied up, whipped, spat on, and fucked like I'm a piece of meat, and afterwards be affectionate towards that person, but I can't seem to under any other circumstances. And it also disturbs me that it's taken me this fucking long to work it out. If I have worked it out...

*wanders off, wondering*

Some time later...

*wanders back in*

I do have affectionate thoughts, though. Sometimes.