Chaos. All encompassing, ever present. Everything and everyone is subjected to chaos. The problem, though, the actual terror of being thrust into it is its absolute lack of awareness. It is not sentient. It does not operate within any kind of logical framework. The human mind reels at such enormity so completely void of any kind of direction or meaning.
Random and irrational. Uncertain and untamable. No leviathan can conjure greater dread than that which chaos can evoque given the absolute depravity of uncertainty it entails.
For it is amidst this chaotic existence, that we both find ourselves and each other in. It is not the first of these absurd realities that occupy my mind, even if it might seem the harshest of the two. That insidious, absorbing thought that has been found to be impossible to cast out of this beseeched mind of mine, happens to be related to the second of those aforementioned states of being.
We found each other.
Have you ever stopped to think about the implications of mere existence, dear reader? Forget about the astronomical odds that the single sperm that gave you fifty percent of your genetic material, had to beat. Forget about the ridiculous odds that the egg and sperm that completed your conception had found their way at the same place at the same time. Have you ever realized that for you to be, to exist, there had to be an unbroken string of humans that came before you, who not only survived past childhood and into reproductive age, but also were able to find a mate (which also had to survive until that point), reproduce and ensure the survival of the product so it would, in turn, reach reproductive age, find a mate, reproduce, ensure the survival of the product… Thus perpetuating the human cycle ad infinitum.
This unbroken line of people, your direct ancestors, goes back through time immemorial. Can you even imagine how unlikely such a fact is? How many things had to coincide for it to be as it happens to be? That, my friend, is chaos.
Furthermore, every single occurrence, every single decision has led to you being who you are, to what you are and to where you are. Add to that some chaos: all those myriad things you can’t control, all those situations and realities that exist beyond your grasp.
Despite, and yet as a result of all this chaos around our collective existence, we found each other. Not in a physical or even direct way, but through this site and this pathetic little story I find myself compelled to write in this stormy night. The same boring little story that you are reading now, in my future which is simultaneously, your present.
What are the chances? Not much. A great deal of chance and coincidences had brought us to this point. Both of us finding this site, for starters. Me finding the inspiration to write this nonsense and consequently uploading it to the site. You finding such an obscure little story and reading it. What’s more, what are the chances of anybody still reading up to this point? Slimmer and slimmer.
What is chance if not chaos? Or at least an aspect of it. It is simply chaos happening to randomly take a certain shape. A series of random actions and situations that took things to be the way they end up being. That is where the whole unbearability of its inherent lightness stems from.
Questions. An abundance of questions. Few answers if any, at all. They are always assaulting me, morphing, evolving. However there are seldom any answers at hand. A great deal of those questions revolve around her.
We found each other, she and I, despite and because of chaos. Through mere chance and fortune. I say fortune because it ended up being a beautiful thing we both cherished for a long time. However, that which chaos brought together, it also created the conditions for it to be forsaken.
I’ve always dwelled in the almost impossibility of us being aware of the existence of each other. Continents apart. Born 16 years apart. Each of us having a life of our own. Alas, that fateful day, so long ago, it now seems, you read my post and decided to answer it.
In hindsight, it even feels fated. Though we should note that chaos has no design nor will nor conscience. Only randomly occurrences overlapping ad nauseum, for ever.
I didn’t expect much from that post. It was written almost as an afterthought. However, you sent me a message. You thought I might not be interested in talking to you. My reaction was immediately thinking that you would probably end up not interested in talking to me.
It became apparent after a few days of back and forth messaging, that you were nothing if not a delightful surprise. We talked about everything and anything. I should say that you were probably the one best thing that I got from having been forced to learn English at school. I was not able to carry a conversation in your native language and you did not speak my language. So English had to do. I enjoyed helping you with your English. That gave way to a few fun misunderstandings which led to lengthy explanations of whatever had not been understood by whatever party, to clarify.
We became fast friends (at least from my perspective). Spending hours chatting, having a good, wholesome time every day. I believe I told you this before, but I was very surprised when it was you who first steered the conversation towards, let’s call it sex related topics. I had been respectful and kept away from any sexual themes. You asked me about what I read in literotica. We started discussing what things we liked to read (and listen to, in your case). It all snowballed out of our control from there.
I was impressed by your trust and candor. You opened up to me in such a wonderful, truly beautiful way. Especially after I told you my dark, evil secrets. You were so excited when I told you that I was into bdsm and I practiced it regularly in real life. You seem truly fascinated by, as you put it, “knowing a real life Dom”.
Immediately, you started asking questions. You assumed my wife was my sub and asked me what kind of a sub she was. I replied with the truth, thinking you would be offended or shocked. I was certain you would judge me for stepping out of my marriage and having more than one bdsm relationship with other women. I told you I was a bad person for doing so, being apologetic about it. Not only were you not judgmental, but you were so understanding, supportive even. I found it so touching.
Our budding friendship soon morphed into a strong, trusting friendship. We became confidants. We still talked about food, culture and all the many subjects that interested or frustrated us. But more and more we talked about our lives: our past, our present, our families. We got to enjoy the process of getting to really know each other.
You suggested role play, as an activity we could do together. You made up this plot about a naïve woman stranded on a deserted island with a Pirate. You seemed to like the fact that