When I was young, I used to sneak into my mother’s room, and, corny though I thought they were, read bits and pieces of the romance novels mother kept. I used to see the phrase “And he crushed her lips with his.” or different variations of it and think “I would love to be kissed like that.” (for then I did not realize I was a slave) and pine away for the man that would one day take me and show me what I was. I have met that man. And I am pleased to say that I married Him.

I love You, Master.