“I want it to stop,” I confess to him, not hearing whatever he’s just said. “How do you make it stop?” The question reeks of desperation.
“Recognize that you are ruminating. Acknowledging that it’s not productive.”
“I do that. When I go there, I realize it’s happening at least.”
“Good. Good.”
“And then I’m angry that I’m thinking about it again and reliving it. I get so frustrated with myself … it doesn’t stop.”
“I need you to know that we are not our thoughts. Separate the feelings from the thoughts.”
“I thought you said there was purpose in suffering.” The words race out of me, nearly sounding accusatory.
“The purpose of suffering is not to suffer. The purpose is knowing why you feel that way and then what you can do, if you can do anything. In your case, you can’t.”
“I wish I could.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Help me make it stop,” I practically beg him, praying he can understand how much it still hurts. “Please.”
“Tell yourself it’s just a ball in a box. The button was pushed. Was there something that led to it or not? If there’s nothing to do, nothing to control, let it go.”
“Okay. Let it go.”
Damon makes a show of looking at his watch. “Well, we dove right in, didn’t we?”
I let out a small laugh, laying back into the pillow.
“Do you know what triggered it?”
The bedroom.I don’t answer him, though. “I think I’d rather talk about something else.”
“We can do that.”
My lips perk up into a soft smile. “You’re easy to talk to, you know that?” Damon’s broad smile is comforting. I add, “And you have a beautiful smile.”
“Well, now you’re just buttering me up for something.”
I don’t say anything, I return my attention to the lone loose thread on the knee of my jeans. Just let it go. Feel it and let it go. The advice resonates but it’s too simple. At this moment, I’m not sure how to feel about its simplicity.
“If you don’t want to talk about James, maybe we can talk about Zander?” Damon suggests.
“What about him?”
“Have your other relationships been similar? Romantically or sexually?”
“As in, have I had other Doms in my life?”
Damon nods.
“Only one. My husband. But it wasn’t the same.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shift again, feeling colder as the breeze sweeps my hair in front of my face. “I … feel uncomfortable comparing the two of them.”
“Remember that it’s okay to be uncomfortable. There are no good or bad emotions. Only comfortable and uncomfortable, and there’s nothing wrong with either.”