Torn by the past & taking responsibility.

One of my deepest fears is that I will end up walking the old path - to nobody's detriment but my own. I am obviously submissive and it is hard for me to open up to anyone, really. In the past I was able to tell anyone anything, but over the years it seems my fighting strength has either been sapped by time or by motherhood and the instinct to not fight in order to protect my son.

The old path...
It is no secret that my mother was a tyrant. We "walked on eggshells" around her. This simply means we were VERY careful in what we said and did in order to not upset her. An upset mother meant one thing, anger. Her anger burnt hot and vengeful. She had no problems taking her rage out on us, but Dad & I were her alternating favorites for venting. When Dad would get pissed and leave, I couldn't because I was a kid so I took the brunt of it when he was gone. I learned early on to keep my mouth shut. We weren't allowed emotions and I was full of them.

These days...
What I learned was a passive aggressive response of watching and biding my time. When someone fucks up, I kick them to the curb. Now, I'm here to tell you... this doesn't work in marriages. It ends marriages right damn fast. I SURE won't work in a Master/slave relationship and perhaps this is one of the draws of slavery for me. It means that no matter what stupid shit I might want, it will not be allowed... or will it.

What happens if I say something stupid and hurtful to my Master? I have had this false idea that Masters own a slave forever, like a kajira. A kajira is property to be punished at His will. Well, I've had that false idea shattered. So many Masters abandoning slaves after what has been presented as a minor digression of a slave or else the Master has moved on to someone else after weeks/months of lying to his slave. I'm terrified.

I suppose I should expound on what I mean by "saying something stupid and hurtful." Well here. In my last marriage, it was shattered by my fury as I proclaimed that he was a coward (truth) for not defending me from other male's advances or against his own mother's hateful sarcasm. During the marriage I had alluded to those things, but I don't think he ever really understood just how much those things bothered me. In my female mind, mentioning it alone should have been enough. Men don't work that way. They miss subtleties. Men require direct language (without hostility) and direct action (without force or hurtfulness) in order to get a point across. I get that now.

Except I'm not male. In my heart of hearts, I love this man, my Master, like no other. Still I am filled with the fear of my own screwups, that I will do something or say something to break the ties that bind us. It would be a moment of sheer stupidity. It would be a moment of pure fear, or pure rage, the terror of what is happening around me breaking me so that I choose the wrong thing out of the need for relief (trying to break up with him on a cell phone) or such rage that I am willing to break and burn it all (fury at Ron for his cowardice over the years, unanswered by my questions of why didn't he stand by me, why didn't he say something... hearing all those, "I don't knows" echoing in my head with no further words beyond the pain of betrayal in my heart and soul.)

I love this man. I pray that his Masterly skills will outdo any of my female idiocy. I pray that his Masterly strength and his love for me will remain strong, pure and unbroken by my eventual fear and hostility in any given situation. I am lesser, you see. I am not as strong. I am full of emotion and fear. He is my pillar of strength, but I cannot fully release all of my fear. All around me I see those male pillars of strength walking away for another woman, leaving the current female to agony and dust. I cannot take another betrayal. Neither can I live with fear in my heart.

Just the other day, I read that it is wrong to not trust in a relationship, that is akin to a sin and evil. That it is purely choice to not trust and to not forgive. That it is purely choice to hold onto trust issues from the past when in a new relationship. Well fuck me. I guess I'm a sinful evil bitch then, because I truly cannot figure out how to trust with all these ghosts in my head.

Do you not find it odd that we are supposed to learn from our past, but we are not supposed to be ruled by it? How can one learn, learning the feeling of betrayal, and then learn to not worry when a new situation presents itself with the same potential end? Of course we worry! That is what makes us human! I am told that I should not worry. Well I'm sorry, but I do. I'm told I should not feel fear. Well, I'm sorry, but the past and the lessons learned were learned well and with a lot of pain and I cannot seem to move back into the zone of full trust. How CAN one move into a zone of full trust after having learned lessons of betrayal? It is like moving backwards. It is like asking one to have white cloth after adding red dye. Only bleach can scour the cloth white, and even then it eats at the fabric, the strength of the fabric is forever compromised.

Trust is broken, not rebuildable into the same thing, much like a broken cup. You can glue it together, but it is not the same. I fail to see why this should only apply to one relationship, but not all of them. Do we not learn?? Are our reactions any less plausible for our learning because it is a new relationship?

"A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions." - Oliver Wendell Holmes

So I sit here, closer to the day my Master will be here. I feel anxious. Terribly anxious. I SO look forward to his coming. I worry that we will fall into a regular pattern and things will be lost. I cannot, oh I cannot have that happen. It is like him telling me, "Don't stop touching me." Well I cannot lose the precious closeness between us. I cannot be relegated to a secondary thing, else I question everything and then I begin to hide myself.

I worry about making these posts. These posts show into my mind, show my fears and my worries. Many times, Master addresses them immediately. I ask you, Master, please not today. I am fragile today. I believe I will refill my Xanax. I feel a tremendous amount of pressure and it is from so many things happening at once.

Yet what happens if I cannot tell him face-to-face how I feel. I cannot let it build like I did before. Oh I did, but I didn't. I told them all, but they did not listen. It had to be the way I was telling them. HAD TO BE. It cannot be that four males in a row refused to hear me, refused to take me seriously. It just can't be... people aren't that harmful. It HAS to be something I'm doing.

WHAT IS IT?!?!?!?! How do I not do it now?????

OK that's enough circles. I have to stop today. It is clear that I am fractured in all of my thinking today.

I love you, Maître. Please be gentle with me today. I am already on the verge of tears.

Closure

It is odd how things go. It's strange how quickly things can change. I have never been good at letting things go that hurt me in the past, nor have I been good at forgiving and forgetting. I am not bitchy to these people who hurt me unless they pull attitude with me, but I keep in the forefront of my mind what they did and whether or not they are trustworthy.

Trustworthy... well I have to say I have met very few who are 100% trustworthy. I don't even trust myself that much! There are different levels of trust, and different areas of trust. For example, my pedophile uncle is excellent at fixing cars, dishwashers, air conditioners, electric lines... would I trust him to fix those things? Yes. Would I trust him with a girl child? Oh hell no.  My first ex-husband is a wonderful humanitarian out doing things in the world for the poor. Would I trust him with my friendship? Oh hell no. My second husband is a hard worker with an absolutely hilarious sense of humor. Would I trust him enough to relax my vigiliance regarding his time with our son? Oh hell no. And so it goes.

I can live side-by-side with these people and keep up my guard forever. Not a problem, did it my whole life. In this way, forgiving and forgetting would be a hindrance as I would then relax my guard and trust where I should not.

So what to do when a person finally acknowledges they did something stupid and hurt me?

In a few moments, 30 minutes to be exact, a conversation was held today regarding something stupid a person did that hurt me. I've been tentative friends with her for a while now, but haven't trusted her with my full friendship. I will probably still be very careful around her, but the apology sure helped. First, she acknowledged that she had been each of three different types of people in my life: one who helped during my difficult times, one who walked away when I needed help during difficult times, and one who put me into difficult times. She apologized for being a dumbass. At that moment, I realized that she isn't the type of person who would deliberately hurt another and that she probably had some things going on in her own life at those times and she could not handle any more. At the very end, she apologized for hurting me. I thanked her. This is the first we've spoken of this issue.

Part of me feels as if the world got a little brighter and more beautiful. Part of me is quiet and not sure what to think. Part of me has its guard up, the watchful one, always watching and guarding me, like a big tigress.

I've been waiting for this, unwilling to bring it up, knowing that with people you must wait for them to be ready and there is no forcing them into anything at all. If you try to force, then anything you get will not be genuine. If you wait, they will open up like a little flower and if you shine your light upon them instead of giving them a bloody sword, then they will open up the rest of the way.

Most of the time, the way of the sword is too easy. I never took the easy road a day in my life. I don't intend to start now.

What to do with this apology of hers... processing....

50 Shades of WHAT???

Look, I haven't read this book. I'm probably not going to read this book. There. I admitted it. It's not that the book wouldn't turn me on, I bet it would. But this isn't a critique of a book... it's a critique of the reactions generated...

A little history...
I didn't know a damn thing about the bondage world until three things happened. First off, I saw a little magazine advertising bondage supplies, you know, handcuffs, spreader bars and the like. Second, I read, "The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty," written by Anne Rice under the pseudonym of A. N. Roquelaure, and I discovered that I wasn't fucked up, I wasn't alone in this, there are others with such desires. Finally, I found my Master under terms that were strictly gaming partners followed by vanilla, and in a moment of jealousy I asked, "Just who is this EmeraldWolf?" Naturally, he explained that he had Dommed her for a bit. I had three reactions to that, by the way: Extreme jealousy, intense curiosity and the birthing of excitement.

Had I not found those books, which are wildly unrealistic in terms of real life D/s and M/s relationships, I would not have had a CLUE what he meant and I may not have questioned further. You see, my first husband caught me looking at that little magazine with my morbid fascination of those bondage devices, ripped it out of my hands and told me I didn't need that and that's not something I needed to be looking at. I felt shame and guilt. In a moment, my interest and related desire became a dark secret that burned within my skeleton-filled closet of wanton shame. It is rare for me to talk about sex, rarer still for me to open up about such desires as I have. One does not comprehend that one might find another individual who holds similar interests in the sexual deviancy field... one only hopes that one can keep such desires secret and not act upon them.

Suffice it to say that I grew up in a close-minded, close-mouthed world when it came to sexuality, let alone anything resembling BDSM. Though the Sleeping Beauty trilogy held impossible things within its lusty pages, it opened my mind up to possibilities previously unknown to me, and let me grasp my darkest desires firmly in both hands. I am a willful girl, a rebel, always fighting, always fighting... I will only ever submit to one man, my Master, Marc. I will never submit to another and never have previously. I will hold onto my dreams one way or another, and should they burn, they will rise from the ashes like a phoenix as my dreams tend to do.

I wouldn't have had those dreams without the knowledge and imagination in those pages, ohhhh Anne Rice writes so provocatively! Did I REALLY think that it was a good idea for someone to hang me up, paint honey on my twat, then let flies crawl all over it? Hell no! But what an image!

I imagine there was a furor over the Sleeping Beauty series, oh so long ago when it came out. There have been a few sarcastic references it over the years in TSR and Fetlife. BDSM folk hate those books, stating that it creates an unrealistic idea in the minds of would-be subs and Doms both, and that just causes problems in the BDSM world. But they forget, we were all so naive at one time. None of us were born with the knowledge of how to go about creating and participating in BDSM. We were taught, every single one of us. Not only were we taught, but we read, we watched, and still we each felt along, felt through our own way until we found what we each want for ourselves in such an arrangement. I, for one, could not possibly adhere to a life of a 24/7 slave who only serves in physical chores, never leaves the house, and has no sexual contact. I could not, I would not. But I know of those who do, some of whom have been doing that for decades and are perfectly happy with the arrangement. What about kajirae who believe in their hearts that men are dominant in every way, including intelligence, and to be served by women, no matter what man stands before them? Who am I to tell those folks that my way is the only right way? Well that's because it's not, see... it's only right for me. Just as their way is right for them and not for me.

So I see all of this bitching and complaining about 50 Shades of Grey now. I have some curiosity in reading it, but probably won't due to the hype. I have my own relationship and I don't need any more questions or distractions at this time. Maybe later. But complaining about it as if it's a handbook written by the devil himself? I don't see what all the fuss is about, truly!

50 Shades of Grey has opened up a new field for many women and men who were previously blind to the world of bondage. Not many will pick up a book on Gor these days, they're too hard to find. Not many will pick up an old Anne Rice book when all they think of is vampires when they see her name. Even if it is A.N. Roquelaure as the author, they now mention that it is a pseudonym for Anne Rice. With the latest flurry of sexual and intimate books with vampire, wereanimal and other paranormal characters, who's gonna go find an old Anne Rice book? Nope. 50 Shades of Grey it had to be. And what a smashing success! So many new people on the scene who are making it into fetlife and learning! They are learning they are not alone! They are learning that yes! There are even CLASSES about how to tie people up! They are (hopefully) learning safety! They are learning that there are rules. They are learning that there is no ONE RIGHT WAY to do this, that their own desires dictate the relationship and rules within their new path.

I had to remind myself the other day of this... that there is no "one right way." I have a friend who is a Domme, and she was complaining on FB about a male telling her that it's not all about her. She retaliated by telling him that yes, SHE is the Domme and it IS all about her. Well, that's not what I learned, but I've seen enough to know that yes, there are dominants out there who could give a shit less about what the sub wants, only wanting to use and abuse... and there are subs who want that too. Who am I to tell her that's wrong? She IS inexperienced, and she will find that if she limits herself, it is more difficult to find a play partner, let alone a lifetime commitment. But I digress.

The point is, I see the BDSM community split on this 50 Shades issue; some of them love the books and some of them hate the books. The ones who love them love the ideas within them and love how the book makes them feel. The ones who hate the books say that they are misleading and probably causing all sorts of danger and damage to women out in the world. Possibly. But so is the Bible. *arched brow* Think of entire tribes of men, women AND children laid to waste over an idea that there is only one right way.

Without launching into a religious rhetoric, I shall simply say this. 50 Shades of Grey is an eye opener for those who wish to open their eyes and learn more. It is a relief for those who have their closets full of skeletons and demons to learn that they really aren't bad or evil, and there are other people out there like them.

For those of you who don't like the book, do not read it. If you feel it promotes bad things, then stop bitching, get out there and TEACH so people can learn.

For those of you who love the book, welcome! Learn well, go to Fetlife read as much as you can! Take a Shibari class! Find out what a munch is, find one and go to it! There is a lot of information out there! Welcome home!

Skin Geography

Fingertips, the eyes of my pain, the readers of my skin. Skin, the geography of my soul, the pain etched there with distraction of the moment. Would that I could have tattooed it all...

I pick. I pick my scabs. Off. I don't eat them. I don't know why. It soothes me when I am upset. It slows and stops me when my mind is on overdrive and goes a million miles an hour. It calms me when I feel overwhelmed. It distracts me when the reality of the world becomes all too real for me and I am saddened. It stops me from daydreaming. One conflict is enough to drive me to ruining every ounce of healing my body has poured forth from within. Threat of any possible conflict is enough to drive me to the same.

I used to have better control over this. I had a few spots on my derriere because I'd get a little zit here and there from sitting at my job all day. Once in a while, or once a month, I might get one on my forehead or a shoulder. I could get into a bathing suit and go swimming without a second thought. Not today. Not now.

The geography of my skin has sucked all of my focus to it now. My fingertips, so sensitive, every centimetre of smooth skin measured, weighed, found lacking. Smooth becomes a mountain. Oh no! A bump! Get it off get it off get it off! There is pain sometimes, yes. Infection sometimes, yes. I am too ashamed to go have a doctor look at it more than the single time I let one see.

Fingertips find a rough spot or a bump, it feels like Mount Olympus! Get it off! Razor edge fingernails dig at the edge, lifting slightly, sliding under and pulling more. There is tearing, a brief flash of burning sensation as the new unhealed raw skin is uncovered yet again. Beloved smoothness and a feeling of relief so great I could weep. Blood flows, nobody notices it with my black pants. I always wear black pants. I don't wear white shirts anymore either. Dark colored apparel is the ticket for me now that I am engaging in a daily flow of flesh and blood. 

Bloody bits down the sink drain. Parts of me thrown away like so much trash. Little tidbits down the toilet along with the waste. I wonder if the carpet bugs have enough to eat these days?

Why. Why? I don't know. I only know that it must stop as I am a ruin of flesh.

I cannot stop. Help me.

This day, this life; imagination, contemplation!

I am changing, ever changing. My inner self is a constant dialogue, but my energetic being flows with the energy of the earth; it ebbs and flows with the seasons. I am never more alive than in the autumn. Mabon is now, the 20th through the 22nd of September in this, the northern hemisphere.

A.D. 2012. Hmm. I will never say "in the year of our lord" because I am not a Christian and never will be. A battle still rages within me, but it is not over the existence of deities. There are no gods nor goddesses, and yet I feel that energy of the earth. What IS that? Science has not answered all questions. If all questions were answered, science would cease to exist. There are things we still simply do not know.

So what is this that I feel? Is it real or imagined? What of this ebbing, flowing energy? I cannot see nor show it to anyone, therefore I cannot prove its existence. This, of course, has nothing to do with atheism - that concerns only lack of belief in gods/goddesses. THIS is something else.  It is as if I feel the energy of the earth, or of something.   ????????    Could I possibly prove what I feel is a real thing? There are many things we know are there but we cannot see them: We can prove there is electricity flowing through wires within our houses, we can prove that the earth rotates and wobbles upon its path around the sun, we can prove that there is oxygen in the air we breathe... even though we cannot see these things with our own eyes. What is this and why do I feel it?

Another question, why do people "feel" things as a group? There are hordes of people out there claiming to feel certain things at the same time as others in a particular group. This is not a physical thing! If a building full of people burns and fire touches everyone within, they would all feel the burning and pain. But we can see that; we have proof that they all felt the same thing at the same time. What I mean is, why do people claim to all feel the same thing that cannot be seen? People claim to feel energy from prayer rise to a god, but we know prayer does not work and we know there is no god. Would these claims be a form of collective idiocy or insanity? Is it a desire to have something, a desire so overpowering that a group of people will sacrifice their common sense and join in a group belief; not REALLY feeling anything at all, just imagining it or lying flat out? Or does collective group feelings without visual proof of something truly exist?

My mind stops for a moment in the reverie of questions and wondering. My mind returns to being present. A funny thought inserts here, grounding me briefly in the here and now: As I have these conversations with myself in my brain, I am doing daily things; driving, working, cooking, doing laundry, etc. While most of the time my mind converses happily with itself, considering very strange things, always I return to the present to "check in" and see what is happening in the here and now. After checking everything in the here and now with a nearly pure focus, I slip back into the conversation. Sometimes the conversation shifts... fluid like a river. I am fluid and ever-changing, after all.

Aren't we all?

Perhaps everyone is not fluid and ever-changing! It cannot be that I am alone, statistically that would be impossible, egotistical, and ridiculous. Do other people ever wonder such things? Do other people wonder just how many other people are out there thinking about this same stuff? It would be interesting to have knowledge of the percentage of the whole population thoughts on any subject at any time. This current thing about which I am thinking: How many people think of this subject that currently inhabits my mind? How many people think they are fluid and ever-changing, or how many think they are stable in a fixed position? There is no possible normality here. Wait. Normal? That word cannot apply here!

"Normal" cannot realistically represent any facet of humanity, not even a range of averages. Range fluctuates depending on any given situation. For example: if you measure height of people in a country with sub-standard food, the average range consists of shorter, smaller people. Give the people better food and the average range shifts upwards to taller people. A potential normality: It is normal that snowy owls are more white than any other color; it would be abnormal for a snowy owl to be reddish brown. There is no reason to assume that "normal" applies within the mental range of humanity either. Humans change situations with simple thought. Our powerful, thinking minds shift  the variance of an average range easily. Example: A theist believes himself to be fluid and ever-changing in thought. The theist becomes an atheist and many things change in that person's situation that cannot be seen with the naked eye. Would that person who may have considered themselves to be fluid and ever-changing before now consider their time spent in the belief of god to be stable and fixed, perhaps stagnant? Or would they still feel that the time spent believing in god was with a fluid, ever-changing mind and that they still have such a fluid ever-changing mind? Would they feel that they had become stable and fixed as an atheist? It is a personal feeling and there is no normality that can be applied to personal feeling. In this way, psychology has tried to label and "affix" everything into a stable, fixed position for the sake of "normality."

During this time of writing, I have processed a bill, processed a payment, given the wrong key to someone, chased after them and given them another set of keys that have the proper key and come back in laughing. Those things are in the here and now. My mind did shift to be grounded while I did those things, it had to. But as soon as I am relieved of here and now, my mind begins to contemplate. Is this imagination? No. It is pure inner contemplation.

But you know? When I want silence in my mind, it is there immediately (unless I am stressed.) Rarely do I have to fight for silence. Most of the time, silence is instant if I desire it, then I am grounded in the here and now, hearing all that happens around me, feeling the air & temperature on my skin, all five senses activated completely. I do not have to scream at my own mind for silence.
Do you?

Autumn

It is no secret that autumn is my favorite time of the year. Well, I think everyone knew except me. This past two years with Master has given me time for deep introspection and I have finally noticed that at the advent of autumn, my energy spikes, suddenly I have the urge to go out and explore, I feel jubilant and full of restless energy daily. There is a sparkle in my eye and a hop in my step, and I feel full of mischief. In short, if you've seen a young colt out in a field before a storm kicking up his heels and running about, that embodies how I feel when autumn begins.

I'm not sure what it could possibly be in the air that brings about such a change in me, but it is certainly welcome this year. After a full two years of anguish and interior pain, it is high time that I feel better! I have felt as if I were on autopilot, disengaged from life, disconnected from all positive feelings & emotion, and antisocial towards everyone around me. I don't even remember if I had such feelings last year in the autumn, but I think that's when I took my son out hiking. 

This year I am considering a zombie run. Yes, you heard me correctly. I haven't brought this up with Master yet, and I haven't discussed the idea with my son yet, but I think we would have a lot of fun if we joined the 1 mile zombie walk this year. I had not heard of it before, but I've yearned to be part of such a thing and this one benefits cancer research so it would be good for not just us, but for society. Imagine! My son and I dressed in full zombie costume and makeup, dragging ourselves with moans and groans and a whole host of other zombies to a finish line! It isn't the point to finish first... it is a point to just walk in costume with others! The benefit to others is icing on the cake!

You see, my son told me that at 13, he is having nothing to do with Trick-or-Treating this year. He's "too old." *eye roll* After my eye roll, I must acquiesce and I think to myself, "Okay, so what do teenagers do for Halloween?" My answer, of course, was that they do nothing but get into trouble and cause trouble. Toilet papering houses is no fun when cleanup is involved. 

I think I shall make a list of things I want to do before I die. One of those things is to participate in a zombie walk. !

Let's see what Master thinks of all of this. Hehe.

As for the rest of the energy, well that walk isn't for a month so I shall have to go up and see the changing colors of the autumn leaves and perhaps hike a bit. That will certainly help!

May autumn blessings be upon you!

The blank mind...

There are two ways one can view writer's block: As a blankness that is frustrating... and as a blank mind, a blank slate, ready for the fruition of whatever ideas appear there. A blank mind, to me, is much like a fertile field. It is ready for plowing, ready for seed to be sown, ready for the tiny tendrils of ideas to begin to appear, grow, flourish and bloom. To me, a blank mind may also represent harvest, when ideas seem to have come to their utmost peak of fruition, then reaped and harvested. There should be a blankness after such a thing. It is a time of quiet, of the return to the natural state of things.

A blank mind... so many people get frustrated by this. It is so sad to see the people struggle to say something, feeling as if they must when perhaps it is merely a rest time for them. Or... maybe they need something to put into the fertile ground of their mind... seeds of thought, if you will.

It is like that for me lately, but today I came across a seed that planted itself immediately and started to grow. I shall show you...
http://alicedownarabbithole.blogspot.com/2008/12/longings.html

First of all, Master and I have been so very busy with our lives, too busy to really sit down and visit. When we are not busy, we are exhausted. The toil it takes to get our lives together in the same place has taken its toll upon us. It is hard work. However, it does not affect our love for one another and for this I am grateful beyond words. I have felt as if there was a distance encroaching on our space because of this exhaustion... a distance where there are no words. Perhaps there do not need to be words. Perhaps it is enough to simply desire.

Master, this is for you and you only. I have felt this distance. Just a few days ago you said I was far... and I was. I was over 20 years in the past, looking at schoolmates from long ago on facebook, wondering what they are doing, what do they look like now, do they have families? I don't know what prompted me to do such a thing. I admit without humility that I did gloat sometimes over the ones who were cruel to me, in that a good many of them look as if they've been run over by a herd of buffalo. Highschool was not a good time for me and I do not know, cannot possibly fathom, why I wasted time that day looking through all of those pictures and lives. I DID come to a new understanding, however. I realized just how many of them were religious. I realized just how many of them had always been religious. I realized the dichotomy of my life, that I had to do my time in school, just as any other child... but that I had never fit in because of the lack of religion in my life. I have no desire for religion, this you know. It is a paltry horrible thing, dividing people. So as I looked upon my tormentors of 10 or more years of my life, I realized that they were driven to do as they did because of their beliefs... and that it had nothing to do with me.

I realized something VERY important. My whole life I've been talked down to, looked down upon, by these religious zealots... and I have not taken that personally. Suddenly, I was able to look at those people who had tormented me in highschool... and suddenly the idea began to form... what they did? It wasn't personal. Slowly I began to understand and begin to move past it all.

You know, it will take time. But I will go through my life experiences (like I do) -- shuffling through them all in my head one at a time... and apply the logic of those religious zealots who don't bother me in the slightest. I am learning one of the greatest lessons of all time: How to not take things personally. I have yearned so very much for this! It is a great pivotal point of healing for me!

That said, I return to the previous programming. There is a distance between us, but it is a distance of necessity, not of love. It is a distance of quiet, that is resolved by soft snores and purrs of "I love you" shared back and forth together. There is no loss of love or feeling between us. It is merely time, stress, current situations that is affecting the amount of our communication. The quantity is less, but the quality is there. The love is definitely there.

Master, it wasn't that I doubted your love for me. It is the regular doubt that perhaps I have messed up yet again... followed by a long process of understanding. Perhaps someday I can stop bugging you every few days, needing the reassurance that you want and love me. Oh I will probably always be needy, never you worry about that. But I would like the peace of knowing without a doubt that I am loved and wanted and will not be replaced. But first, I have to master the art of not taking things personally.

You may ask... why did I put that link up there? Well, because as I started to read it, I realized that their situation is similar with distance. Our dynamic will require more touching when we are within the 24/7 person-to-person aspect, but for now, we are okay with what we have as we visit daily for nearly the whole day. Even with work! I always feel your presence within my life and yet I will require the physical presence to fully grow into the slave I am. I am an unfinished piece of art, waiting for your hands and mind to finish forming me. I have the desire for you, yes, and my god I would like to reduce your daily stress. I would like to serve you more personally, taking care of your needs so that they are not so time consuming for you, not so exhausting. Yes, I would like to serve you much more. Why did I put that link up there again? Because when she wrote all of those things and then told him and he told her his cock was in his hand, I remembered the first time I knelt before you dressed as your girl, in full slave mode... and the thick hard cock you showed me when you saw me show my submission and love to you.

Ohhhh how I miss you, Sir. Soon now... very soon!

With all my love, my heart, my body, my mind, my soul... i serve You.