Alt#6 had a special purpose that is darker than I had previously admitted. I had always said that she was just for one-night stands. She was my sexual outlet with no attachments to allow her to experiment and explore.
When Wolfgang started his "campaign" to win her, I had to explain the deeper darker reason for her existence, because I wanted him to understand that I wasn't denying him capriciously, that I was preserving her for when I would need her. And that need is not necessarily sex.
After a heartbreak, I would log into her for a few days, not to find comfort and solace in a stranger's arms, but to take my revenge on the male species while I also destroyed myself for being a fool. I used men while I allowed them to use me. I objectified them, in spite of my protests about women being objectified. And at the same time, I allowed them to objectify me.
In a sense, Alt#6 was a throw-away persona. The perfect persona in which to feel miserable and self-pitying. The perfect persona in which to thrash around in anger and throw tantrums and have rough sex and be mean. And I felt justified because I did it to men who only wanted me for sex anyway. I'm pretty sure it was more damaging to me than to them, but I imagined I was taking them down with me.
It was like going through mud to be cleansed, ironic as that might sound. After the rages dissipate, I wearily come back to "normal" life and move on.
Alt#6 was a coping mechanism.
But Wolfgang wanted her. He wanted her because she is my shadow side. He wanted her because she has more of my soul. He wanted her because he resonates with her. "What i didn't want was to lose you again," he said one day. I argued that he couldn't have lost her because I never gave her to him, but he remembers an incident when we were arguing about her place in our relationship "and it ended bad ... you left my arms ... and left."
"Do you feel me now?" he asked, meaning if I could feel his soul through that alt. I said yes, he was slightly different, more serious. "And i feel you also," he added. "differently, but i feel you."
Then he said, "I feel your wounds also ... and the distance you keep ... to keep [Alt#6] secure."
He gave me another quasi-dormant alt to be Alt#6's companion and consoler. But he promised that I would still have my freedom as I had before. Like a stray cat. I could go out to town and have fun, then come home for my bowl of milk and the warmth of his arms. I took it in stride; I took it for granted.
Then yesterday, I realized a betrayal that had long been going on. And I needed to take Alt#6 out again. I needed to thrash and to throw tantrums and to fight and to objectify and to self-destruct. I had my freedom; I could have just gone out. But I didn't.
Instead, I emailed him and said I needed to be with Alt#6's companion, then took a nap before I met with him. The nap mellowed me out. And when he found out the reason for the heartbreak, he understood. He saw it coming, months ago, even with the scarce information he had, but he felt it wasn't his concern, so he was discreet. Then he took me in his arms.
He reiterated that he wouldn't have minded if I took her out. He could close his eyes willfully and ignore it. As long as he wasn't the cause for my rage. All I have to do is tell him that I need to take her out to vent and he'd "kiss your lips softly and change milk bowl for later when you'll be back and prepare towel to bathe you." I nearly cried.
I resisted changing Alt#6's home position. She's a stray, her home is out there. But, yesterday, I set her home position to the home we shared. She's no longer a stray cat, who occasionally visits for milk. She's now a family cat, who occasionally strays.
No one in SL has given me the tenderness and the care that he started giving me since Alt#6 became a cat. No other lover has spent as many hours with me for as long. With what he gives me, Alt#6's old purpose becomes obsolete. At least until he and I part ways. If that happens, I'd probably be too devastated to come into SL at all anyway.
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