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Love till it hurts

December 23rd, 2008

The sun came up this morning and kissed the clear blue sky. It pressed a smile to my face with its rising and as soon as Master was out the door I threw open the blinds. I am elated to see its return, however brief.

It was out yesterday peeking from behind the many gray clouds I assumed were the next storm we’re to be mauled by, but that was no where near good enough for me and my S.A.D. (on top of PMS). Winter in New York is mostly gray skies and blustery winds mixed in with lots of water in one form or another. I hate it here.

When we first moved in here (the new apartment) I would get up, start the coffee and go sit either on the toilet or the floor in our tiny bathroom so I could talk to Master while He showered. When He was finished, I’d go make breakfast, lay out His clothes, pour Him a travel mug of coffee and snuggle and kiss and cuddle till He walked out the door.

Once He was gone, I’d grab the phone and light up my first cigarette of the morning as I opened the back door and sat on the porch. Usually on the stoop. I was in too much of a hurry to talk to Him to go looking for a chair I could take outside (they’re in a closet but I couldn’t ever remember which one). And then I’d call Him. And we’d talk till He got to work, when I’d put out my cigarette, go inside and pull up Pidgin so I could talk to Him on AIM.

Eventually, as both of us got more and more comfortable with where we’re headed, I stopped. Hell, I rarely even get His clothes together anymore. They’ll be tumbling in the dryer when He gets out of the shower and, instead of telling me to get them, He just grabs them Himself. In an apartment this small, it’s easier and faster for Him to grab them on His way by than to have me stop whatever I’m doing and bring them to Him.

Everything that reminded me I’m a slave has slowly dwindled. Either because I threw a tantrum one too many times about it, or because it just isn’t practical anymore. Regardless, it’s left me feeling quite unslavelike. 

This morning I decided to see if kaya had anything besides recipes up and I found this post and started crying. It was as if she opened up my heart and pulled out the thoughts I’ve had recently, then spewed them out on her page instead. Thoughts about myself. Not Him. Master bends over backwards to make sure I know how He feels.

I find myself falling back into the trap that both of us swore we’d do our best not to fall into again. And, until today, I haven’t even really tried to pull myself out of it. I’ve been letting seasonal blues and PMS get the best of me. And I’ve been doing almost nothing to change it.

Oh, I’d start to make the gestures. Bought a couple bags of chocolate chips to bake for Him. Made plans in my head to lay things out and show Him that I mean what I say when I say I want to start playing and such again. And the plans just never leave my head.

I don’t know if it’s fear or just plain laziness. But it’s got to change. So here I go putting my own foot up my ass to get the ball moving.

Thanks kaya!

And it’s snowing again, sort of. So much for my blue skies. Oddly enough, I’m not all that disappointed. I can face anything with Him by my side. We are that strong together.

I love you more than anything, Master.

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