To Love A Sadist

“I’ve made another spur-of-the-moment decision” Matt says to me this morning, I’m barely awake. 

“Hmm?” I reply sleepily. 

“I’ve deactivated Facebook for a week to give me some space, then we’ll see” he says. Of course I support his decision, I support my husband in (nearly) all of his endeavours. If it’s what he feels he needs to do in order to heal then I fully support it. 

I’ve muted my private Facebook too, a kind of “fuck you” to quite a few people and a sign of solidarity to my husband. Last night and before I left, I shared T.a.t.u’s “All About Us” on my wall, with a simple caption – Ahh, memories.

Memories indeed, memories of leaning against the back door frame of my home, the home that I lived in before I moved into my first marital home. I was listening to the song and plotting something. Matt needed me, he needed my help, and hell hath no fury was I going to give it to him. 

To serve my Master, always.

There were times when we would traverse long distances in pouring rain to be together, to be there for one another, to have time together. It was real The Notebook stuff, but better. It was raw, real feelings that we both felt and couldn’t hide from, so we felt them wholly instead. We regretted nothing, we still regret nothing.

Perhaps it was because he was there for me, and I was there for him, that was what cemented us. I wasn’t just a girl infatuated, he was my rock, my anchor, my safe haven from the storm. In a life that sometimes felt so volatile and raw, Matt was home and comfort, Matt was safety. Even on my knees, even beaten and fucked, I was never discarded. There was always tea, naps and cuddles for aftercare. 

Just as an aside, I feel like my Mum got a little taste of Dom Matt on Saturday. Mum offered him a cup of tea and he said yes please, so she responded cheekily with “go and make it then” and not to be outdone, he did. She said she felt awful but I was amused and proud. This is who he is, this is who Dom Matt is – you don’t play games with Dom Matt. He’s a sadist, sure, but he’s quite delicious with it. 


The last few days have rattled us, and to be honest at times I have even felt quite rejected because of it. We haven’t had sex, and part of that was because I felt like I reminded him of Claire. I was her friend, so I must remind him of her too. 

“My ex’s friend is my wife, and I’d prefer to call her as such” he reminds me. I’m immediately repent. 

“You two are completely different” he continues, “you both have brown hair, that’s it” he says. I think mine’s lighter; I’m more chestnut, and Claire is a dark, dark brown. 

We made a plan last night to tackle this how we always tackle things.

“Team work makes the dream work” we agree, we high-five.

We don’t want to cost anyone any friendships, but we feel that the mutual friends who might be affected at least have a right to know. There are family members who have taken sides, and if  other friends had betrayed us then they’d betrayed them too. Those friends at least deserved to know the truth and deserved to make their own decisions, otherwise we too are traitors. We’re no better than those who have wronged us. 

“I was thinking of a group chat on Signal” I suggest to Matt. His Dad and my brother are on Signal, it would make things nice and easy. 

“I’d prefer to tell my Dad face-to-face on Saturday” he replies, of course I understand. It has to be whatever he’s comfortable with.

“Would you like me to notify my brother?” I offer. He agrees. 

It turns out my brother already knew, he just decided not to say anything. Worse, he feels Matt ’should be happy’ for Claire, ‘at least she’s not dating a dickhead’. Nice.

We sit in silence, both of us are livid. We saw my family on Saturday and nobody said anything. Who do you trust anymore? They clearly can’t be trusted. 

“I’ll bet your Mum knew too” Matt finally says, I don’t discount it. 

“Turns out, water really is thicker than blood” I spit. That cuts both ways too, and these days I trust my marital family much more than I trust my own blood. I shine so brightly in my father-in-law’s eyes, and it shows. It really shows. 

I mean that’s not to say that I don’t wind him up royally, mind you, but at least he knows I mean well with it. 

The most annoying and hurtful part is we both know we’ll be expected to be okay with it, because it’s ‘exactly what you did to Claire’. No, it’s not, and this is why:

Claire dropped me as a friend – with no explanation –  while Matt and I were just friends. I had no friendship with Claire to lose by pursuing my relationship with Matt and I owed Claire no explanation because she’d never given me one. She’d disrespected me, so then she’s not entitled to my respect when I get cosy with her ex-boyfriend/my former colleague two years later. That’s how that works. 

The fact that she tried to be friends since but then dropped me again some weeks later, also without any reason? I didn’t fully trust her back then, I certainly wouldn’t trust her again now. Call me petty, but neither of them deserve us now. 

By contrast, Matt and Lewis are (were?) still friends, supposedly even best friends. The ethical thing to do there of course is to speak to Matt about it and find out how he feels. Matt is an approachable guy and Lewis was aware of that, but for two whole months he decided to be a coward and not say anything, all while dating Matt’s ex. I don’t mingle with cowards or snakes and I will fully support my husband’s decision not to, either. I won’t actively encourage it of course, but I will fully support it if that’s what he decides.

Lewis has potentially lost himself a valued friend in this mess, whereas I had nothing to lose and maybe something to gain. I gained alright, and we’ve long been grateful to Claire ever since.

But that still doesn’t mean we want to be friends. 

In a weird way it feels as though the ‘other side’ of our relationship has come out more in this. He needs me to serve him, and I need to serve him. We’re almost taken right back to the very beginning. 

“Aww, you beg so nicely” he teases, his hand around my throat. I don’t care, I just need to be here. I need somewhere to belong, even if it is stripped and completely debased. I need him to bring me alive. I need my Sirs. 

The tears threaten again.

Pet, it’s been on the tip of my tongue for days. It’s consumed me, but it scares me too. This is completely new land for me, it looks new, and it feels new. I have to remind myself of the newness feelings of new relationships, it’s been too long. 

But why do I feel so safe?

It’s intoxicating, the Devil’s work.

If there is one glimpse of light in this mess, it’s that I have found a common ground between them now, another one. Both of them have been betrayed in their time, but I am the girl that they both love now, and who loves them in return. I humbly accept, of course, that I am as much their whipping post as I am their pride and joy. Still, in a time where my life feels so uncertain, I know where I’ve found my home. 

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