The Appeal of Abuse
If someone I was into took me with force, I would probably only say no one in ten times.
I know my limits very well at this point, and exactly when I want to break them. Throwing up is not a deal breaker as a friend once pointed out.
I stopped smoking. I can weigh damage and benefit.
Sometimes it leads to laying in a bathtub, nothing pressing down evenly and hard, and all I can do is submit, but sitting and watching a sunset, holding hands in deck chairs has little appeal. Fraught with potential failure, the joy is hard to take.
I do seek validation. I want to argue and argue and argue and win. I want the other side to just move me into other ways of thinking: an endless intense argument that gets better and better. The argument stops getting better when my pride or the superiority of my opponent gets in the way. Then I take on the role of subordinate, and while the dominance is liberating on me, it has the need to flip. The opponent needs to know how capable I am of choking them. Not for my pleasure, but for their acknowledgment of my power. Someone too dumb is easily used, but someone who I grant the power to validate me with cannot fail, because that would be my failure.
