Tank saw the message, he saw me crying, and he told me he wanted to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. He didn't believe this was a racially motivated attack; he didn't see why it would hurt me and told me to get over it. He even wrote a public post broadcasting that he didn't think this was an issue. I was struggling. Even if this wasn't racist rhetoric, someone was threatening his partner and he didn't want to do anything about it. I was begging for his support through tears and he chose to dismiss me when I needed him most.

This was especially painful as I had been financially supporting Tank for the last two years. I had just written his rent check and bought him groceries earlier that week. After I had stopped crying he would tell me he was low on supplements and I'd have to buy him more.

I felt worthless. I was in tremendous pain. I wanted to disappear.

So I shut down my Tumblr. Reconciled myself to a medium with a much smaller audience. Overnight, my hate mail and trolls disappeared, but the source of my pain was still there:

Tank did not want to support me.

I believed this was a shortcoming on my part; if I could give him more he would find value in being a supportive partner to me. We hadn't been in a power-exchange relationship for the last year, so I couldn't, as his Dom, just tell him to be supportive. I had to win that support somehow. Nevertheless, no matter how much love or support I gave him, he was never there for me, and I lacked the self respect to say I deserved better.

That's why I'm grateful Tank broke up with me.

I had just finished an 8-hour tatau session for my pe'a. My flesh was raw, I could barely stay conscious let alone drive. I needed tank to drive me home, but that meant he would miss a sex party at a friend's house.

The pe'a is an extremely painful rite of passage for Polynesian men where ink is driven into the flesh using a sharpened bone and mallet to form a tattoo covering half the body. Few people complete the pe'a and advance to soga'imiti because the pain is so extraordinary. Turns out, the physical pain of my pe'a paled in comparison to the heartbreak of tank ending our relationship over a sex party. I think it was particularly painful because he never allowed me to have sex with him.

He was still getting back on his feet, so I continued to support him on the condition he do therapy with me. He ended up moving out while I was away on a work trip, taking my camera, but leaving his unpaid bills and rent for me to take care of.

I'm reflecting on a weird anniversary. The end of my blog and (conversely) my relationship with tank were undeniably difficult and intertwined events, but things got better. Much better. My pups are happier, my blood pressure dropped from an average of 160/100 to 122/76, and I save a lot of money by not being a sugar daddy. Hurray!

For the first time in three years, Tank remembered my birthday. He sent me a letter and a framed art photo. The letter was primarily to let me know how great he was doing and his upcoming bulking cycle, but at the very end (written in the margins as an afterthought) he mentioned he looked forward to the day we could be in each others lives again.

Hoo boy.

You know what? Sure. Why not? My therapist had me do an exercise where I forgave Tank for everything he did to hurt me. I regretted he never tried to make amends for anything, apologize, or even recognize he had done something wrong...but, the act of forgiveness gave me peace, even if he was undeserving of it. I was evaluating him as a new person, and I believed his friendship was something I missed. I unblocked him and we arranged a phone call date the next day.

When the time approached, Tank texted me that he was on a date and couldn't take my call. He wasn't just standing me up, he had made plans with someone else after he had already made plans with me.

I was furious...but, sadly, not surprised. I asked him how he planned on making it better, but after no response for a couple days, I ended up blocking him