I’m terrified. Scared beyond measure. Fight or flight wars within me, and flight wants to win.
I love Him, and I love the man. I have thought it over and over again in the past days. I could not voice it; I dared not. Voicing it made it real, and the moment it became real, it could end.
We danced around it. We used euphemisms. I was ok with that, but I still thought it in my head each time I used some other word.
Then it was said out loud. It took my breath away to hear it. It scared me; pure terror coursed through my body. I have been wrong so many times. For the first time, I have found something that feels as natural as breathing, that doesn’t feel like hard work.
What if I’m wrong? What if I’m being stupid – again? What if I hurt him? What if I flake out and think I’ve been wrong about my feelings? What if we’re perfect apart and horrible together? What if I come to rely on him too much – and he doesn’t want that? What if I lose myself for all the wrong reasons and in all the wrong ways? What if?
“I love you.”
I thought the words in my head and kept them to myself. Thirty seconds later, I said it. Our relationship cannot survive without communication – our D/s relationship, our friendship, our love affair. If I thought it to myself instinctively, I needed to say it – no matter how frightening, no matter how difficult.
Those three little words make this real.
I have tried to find the words to describe how I feel as a submissive woman, and I have fallen short each time. It’s as if I’ve woken up from some deep sleep all these years. I do not question my actions or my reactions. It’s natural; it’s comfortable; it’s comforting; it’s real. And while I recognize that this part of myself has been hibernating within me for years, it took Him to bring it out in me. I have read the writings of other Sirs, other Doms. Almost none of them held any appeal for me – their style too abrasive, too demanding, too strict, not strict enough, whatever.
He came into my life out of nowhere, and His style of D fits my natural sub-self. Too good to be true makes me nervous – is this too good to be true? I’ve never had a single easy thing in my life, not one…how can I trust this? How do I know this is real?
In the ways that matter, we’re alike – we crave communication, we laugh at the same things, we have similar personality traits, and, and, and… In other ways that matter, we’re polar opposites – He’s Sir, and I’m pet; He’s a sadist, and I’m a masochist; He’s a voyeur, and I am a budding exhibitionist (but only for Him). Why does it feel perfect? There’s no such thing as perfect. Perfection is a fucking myth. I’m so scared.
I want to analyze this to death, so that I can understand. I need an explanation. That way, when it ends, I can point back to my explanation and realize what I missed – so I don’t miss it the next time, so that I see the signs sooner, so that I’ll know it’s not real and that I’m setting myself up for heartbreak. But there is no explanation – this defies logic. It works; we fit.
I want it to work. I want it to be real. I want the dream, the fairy tale (albeit a little dark and twisted). I want every word He’s said to me to be true. I need it. He gives me everything I ever wanted or needed – even the things I didn’t know I needed. How could I live without that now that I know what’s it like? How could I ever let Him go if He decided one day that’s what He wanted?
I’ve been so wrong before.
I love him. And I’m terrified.