A Magical Weekend, or the Weekend of the Misplaced Bra

So much magic. So many connections. So many things happened – even when they seemed to be a “bad thing” – in just the right, perfect way. Today, as I left, in just the airport, I met and talked to a fascinating woman at the bar for an hour about all the things. I have no idea why she decided to talk to me. She just took the stool next to me and the next thing we knew we were talking about…hell. Everything.  Work and life and jobs and divorce and satisfaction and new loves and old; about being happy or being content, and whether they were the same thing. About taking chances. About living, truly making the choice to live, not just survive.

Then there was the guy in line that commiserated with me when I couldn’t hear the announcements for onboarding the plane. For 15 minutes while we waited we chatted about inconsequential things, but…oddly…there was a connection more than the mere, “He called Group 3,” “Okay thank you…” stuff.  I honestly can’t recall what we talked about, but I don’t think it mattered. We were two humans, connecting in that moment.

Then there was the woman sitting next to me on the plane. She just completed her doctorate days ago. We talked about books and travel and being a woman in today’s world. About changing what it means to be a woman in today’s world. She is involved in the small-business incubator that houses CoderGirl classes. We talked about my professional journey, and the decisions I have made regarding my job and programming, and she invited me to a lecture she is giving later in the month.

How do these things happen? I am lit on fire by these chance connections. And even more so by the not-chance connection I have with my friend Ruby.

You know the friend that you see only once every couple of years, and yet when you do, it’s like…like you’ve lived inside each other’s heart this whole time? Like there never was a moment when you weren’t connected. Yeah, that’s Ruby and me.

I’ve never actually had “event drop” after a kink event. Maybe because I always go home to my real life with my Dominant, and that life isn’t so different than event-life. But after this weekend…I may be experiencing it. The intensity of connection that we had… No, that isn’t a part of my real life. I already feel a vacancy there, somewhere just beneath my heart, where the feeling of…homecoming, coming home to a kindred heart…was this weekend.

More later, perhaps.

You know, about that misplaced bra.

 

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