On the subject of faith, love, lust and violence...

Confessions of a Virgin Mistress

This blog is...

mARTurbation: art meant to please myself, as well as essays, articles, rants, raves and opinions on pop culture, sexuality, women, power, education, religion, music, films and products. No subject is taboo, no discussion forbidden.

Reading Guide:

Thoughts, Essays, Opinions and Articles have unique names and are stand-alone, even when related to previous entries. The dream chapters however, where I talk about my dreams, are titled “At The Dreams: “Insert Dream Title Here”, this is to differentiate conscious opinions and thoughts, from the subconscious movements that go on when I’m asleep (or somewhere in between). The reason I post my dreams is probably the same reason I post all other entries, to examine myself. I’m my own lab experiment. 

Lonely New Year's Eve

Wednesday, December 26, 2007 by Mistress Cavallaro

Last year, I remember jumping into the pool at 4 AM. I don't know exactly why I did it. I'm not sure it was to experience the jump itself; it was shock therapy. At that moment in time, I needed a burst of cold water to keep me from going insane.

I don't even think the events in my life at the time were that complicated or dramatic to merit such a reaction. My best friend had gotten a boyfriend, ... he'd cheated on her... twice... with me. I didn't feel bad about it, because my best friend had never told me they were dating. I found out, afterwards, when somebody else let it "slip" that they were officially dating. My best friend chose not to tell me. She hid it from me. In a way, I thought it was karma, that he'd cheated on her with me, because I didn't know anything at the time.

I still felt though, like I'd been the one used by both at the same time in a way. You see my best friend, she loves me... I don't mean she loves me in the platonic sense; she loves me like Michael loves Brian in Queer As Folk. She loves me like the lover of a past life would, she's obsessed with me. She's made out with me, and technically during her relationship with her boyfriend, she spent a good amount of time "cheating" on him with me. Then he cheated on her with me too. In the end though, he still groveled for her. She still chose to act as if she'd never once made out with me while she was with him. No, she was for the most part a saint in his face.

So I jumped into the pool, while all my friends were partying, the happy couple included... because I felt like it. Because I was alone. Because I felt used and humilliated. Because I was the object of everyone and no one's desire.

This year, I'm just alone. Nobody, not the friends, not the couple (who eventually broke up, though now he's realized he's in love with her so he calls her every day)... just me, here crying, bitter, because I'm lonely. Because I'm still wondering how I got to be such an isolated little girl; how I became the "thing" you want, but won't dare pursue, or just a pretty thing to be admired... I'm not the girl... I'm just the dream. I'm good at a distance. I've always been the in between.

It's hard to explain.

Guess today I'm just not happy. It happens.

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Flow... To Number One