Sarah's words...not mine

Entering into a relationship with a dominate man I was very cautious of what I may be getting into. I was unsure of how dominant he may be or how much he would expect me to sexually submit to him. I was so scared of the sexual component of the relationship, I wasn't taking into consideration the emotional and mental parts of me I would ultimately end up surrendering as well. Surrender is a good word for this scenario. The word surrender means to give up oneself, as into the power of another. And that's exactly what I did.

I turned over the salt shaker to spice up what had been missing from the dish. What I didn't know was that the lid wasn't screwed on all the way. The salt came pouring out and spoiled the whole meal. This is where I have been living in my head for the past few days. My initial intent was to seek a man who would give me what had eluded me for so long sexually. What I didn't know was having that need fulfilled would cause a chain reaction within me to literally spill over.

So what is it like inside my head when he isn't around? That answer varies. For the most part, I go about my day, working, taking care of my family and my responsibilities. But even when I am going about my normal routine, his voice plays as the background noise in my head. It's a loneliness that can't be explained. A sort of social pain alerting me to this undesired isolation and motivating me to seek a connection to anyone who will listen. It's a royal pain in the ass is what it is and if it had an off switch I'd flip that bitch faster than a pancake. I try to ignore the need to be near him, hear his voice or even read his words. I try to involve myself in mundane tasks and hobbies I normally derive pleasure from. But for the most part, I am only trying to fill a vast space of need with a grain of salt.

Before him, I never minded being alone, physically or emotionally. I've never cared about being held or loved by a man. I could always soothe my own thoughts and fears. I was independent. No way for me to get hurt. I had too many safe guards in place to allow such nonsense. If I needed anything from a man, I took it from him and watched him in the rear view mirror as I left. Over and over again this is what I had done. Until it was such second nature I had very little voice of morality anymore. I had walls....thick, huge emotional walls. I created these walls out of necessity so I had a place to hide from a past lover's inability to care for me. This lover's daily reminders that I am "broken" and "unlovable" left me with a beautiful fortress of walls built one "I don't give a fuck about being loved" brick at a time. I didn't have to feel scared or alone because I didn't give anyone the access needed to allow me feel that way. I was safe alone.

But then HE came along. He asked me to step outside of my fortress, take his hand, a leap of faith he called it. And against all my womanly instincts of self preservation, I did as I was asked, it was after all what I was seeking. I stepped out of my world of womanhood and entered his world as a scared little girl. I asked God if this is who I am supposed to be? God answered in silent reverie and so I closed my eyes and jumped into the abyss.

So what is it I miss when he is gone? I miss his tasks and assignments for me. The simple things I would do to make me feel close to him when it isn't possible to do so. I miss having a date night to look forward to. A time when I know he will see me. I miss the times when he had something planned for us. That subtle reminder that I was on his mind too. I miss his breath on my neck and his low voice in my ear. I miss the way he looks mad at me and then burst into laughter. I miss the way he says "Oh really?" when I'm being bratty. I miss the way he kisses the back of my hand in public and twists that hand behind my back in private. I miss lying at his feet. I miss the internal feeling of peace and calamity that comes with kneeling in front of him. I miss the feeling of belonging. If only for a moment, I belonged somewhere when I was in his presence. I miss the way his words serenade me into ecstasy during play. I miss those moments he takes my breath away with his touch. I miss the way he stares at me. In those moments he stares at me without speaking I feel exhilarated. I miss who I am when I am with him.

The more I miss him the more I start to feel uneasy with the amount of space growing between me and my fortress of walls. I feel the need to retreat. The need to reclaim control of the parts of myself I have given away. I feel torn between the world of safety I know and the world he laid in front of me. For now I will try to lay still. Stop thinking about safety and stop thinking about him. If I can't be with him and I can't hide behind my walls, all I can do is concentrate on being still for now.

I came across a post on Fetlife....it hit the very core of my being...it was all the things I had in my head and didn't know...didn't know how to explain to myself let alone put into words to be able to explain for Master, I commented that I would be following the discussion with interest as this was the same place I had found myself in.

The OP (original poster) was Sarah.....above are her words, written by her, about her, about her situation......in my head you can pretty much switch me for her.....I am there, where she is, and thanks to Sarah...now I don't have to try and explain it.

 I sent Master the link...we chatted today.

I still have to get my head in order...I think now, thanks to Sarah, it might be easier.

I still have the rest of the week to get through.

THANK YOU SARAH 

AND PLEASE THANK YOUR MASTER FOR ME AS WELL