I closed ninety one conversations on a Sunday and felt nothing but relief
- Looking for
- one submissive, long term, and I hold three conversations at a time
- Experience
- Twelve years, two long dynamics, the second one six years.
- Around
- the east end, Toronto
Last Sunday I unmatched everybody. Ninety one open conversations, some of them a year old, most dead in the particular way a conversation is dead when both people are still politely typing at each other once a fortnight. It took about twenty minutes and I have not regretted a single one.
Forty three, dominant, east end, twelve years in with two long dynamics behind me. The second ran six years and ended when we both finally admitted we had become housemates who occasionally negotiated.
What the clear out taught me is that I had been keeping a garden of possibilities instead of choosing anything. Ninety one people, every one of whom I would have described as promising, none of whom I had met. That is not a busy inbox. That is an elaborate way of never letting anybody say no to me.
New rule, and I will say it before you write. I hold three conversations at a time. When there are three, I stop. If you write and I tell you I am full, that is not a brush off, it is the system working, and I will say when a place opens.
I want one submissive, long term, weekly in person, with structure that runs through the week rather than switching on at seven on a Thursday. Cooking, order, tasks, correction that is mostly conversation.
If you go quiet I will ask once. I will not chase anybody, and that is not coldness.