I love feeling scared.

Over my life I have spend a lot of time and energy into getting scared, because I love it so much. Over half the books in my bookcase are horror stories. About half the movies I ever watched are horror movies. Whenever possible I will ride the most extreme roller coasters and thrill rides. And I will scream my lungs out when I do. Because I love feeling scared.

“Let me tell you about scared. Your heart is beating so hard, I can feel it through your hands. There’s so much blood and oxygen pumping through your brain, it’s like rocket fuel. Right now, you could run faster and you could fight harder, you could jump higher than ever in your life. And you are so alert, it’s like you can slow down time.”

I never feel more alive than when I’m feeling scared.

You might have noticed the sort of scared I’m talking about comes without fear. Without anxiety. In fact, it is only possible to enjoy being scared from a place of safety. A horror book is only enjoyable when curled up in my favorite chair with a nice cup of coffee cooling beside me. A horror movie is best with a trusted shoulder to hide my face on. The roller coaster has a big metal brace holding me tightly in place. I know I’m safe. That’s when I can turn off reason and allow myself to be scared and enjoy it.

My love for being scared is closely linked to anticipation. That best moment of being scared that can be summed up with “Oh shit”. It’s when the protagonists in the horror story hear that sound in the abandoned building. It’s that moment on top of the lift hill before the first drop. That delicious moment when your heart beat fastest, all your muscles tense up and time really does seem to slow down.

In that one moment, it all seems so much bigger than it is. The knowledge something is about to chase you is scarier than being chased. The knowledge you are about to drop is scarier than falling.

This concept applies to pretty much every aspect of my life. And that includes relationships. Yes, I want to be in a secure relationship. I want to feel safe with my partner. But once the bedroom door closes, the rules change. I want to get scared. I crave that “Oh shit” moment. It won’t even take much.

There’s nothing you can do to me that’s worse than what my imagination comes up with.

But I don’t think props are needed if you have a partner who can convincingly role play menace.

To me, it makes total sense. To other people it seems, not so much.

If I tell a good man I feel safe with, I want him to inflict pain on me, maybe he will say yes and maybe he will say no, but mostly he wouldn’t even blink at the request. There’s a good understanding that pain can enhance pleasure for some people.

Tell him I want him to scare me, he’ll hem and haw and fluster about and finally respond he couldn’t possibly, or completely misses the point and think I want less security in my relationship. Or at least, so far this has been my result.

While I am pretty sure there are more people who enjoy being scared than there are people who enjoy pain. If that isn’t the case, please explain the lucrative horror genre in books and movies to me. And six flags, while you’re at it.

It’s one of those things, whether it is a disconnect, or a misunderstanding, or a miscommunication, I don’t know. It does puzzle me. Maybe spelling it out is a step towards creating understanding.

Writer of fiction, blogs and erotica. Frequency in that order. Popularity in reverse.

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