Forgive me for this. Normally, I come to you with a clear direction of what I want to say, what’s on my mind, what I’m thinking, whatever. Today, I’m jumbled, and I need to work through it here, with all of you. Don’t worry if you get to the end and are confused by where I’m at – I’m confused too. But a little less so than I was yesterday.
I had a dream last night that has stayed with me all day. In my dream, I hurt my arm – broke it, in fact. I don’t really remember how. I remember the pain (I must have slept on it funny). I remember calling him, my lion. He was very upset about it. In my dream, he was also a doctor. His biggest concern (once he realized I was going to be fine) was having to call my father and let him know. “I’m supposed to take care of you, and now you’re hurt. Your father will be pissed.”
Let me interrupt my strange but lovely dream with an observation or two. My father died almost 11 years ago (March 2013 will be 11 years). My lion never met my father. My dream lion was correct, though. My father would have been very upset that I was hurt. And, if he believed my lion was supposed to take care of me, then, sadly, yes, he probably would have been upset. Ok, back to it…
Within my dream, it took a long time to see a doctor, although not my lion because doctors aren’t really supposed to operate or whatever on their loved ones (I saw that in a movie once or read it in a book or something). He was there, watching very closely, worry etched on his face. My father showed up – and I smiled. My dream self must have realized I haven’t seen him in my dreams in a long time. He took a look at my arm (no, he wasn’t a doctor and he didn’t play one in my dream). He looked over at my lion, frowned a little, and then let the doctors do what needed to be done.
I woke up soon after. I have vague memories of a cast and walking around feeling impaired because I couldn’t use my arm. I smiled when I woke up, and then I nearly cried. My first conscious thought was that the two men I love most and have lost were in my dream, and I miss them both so much. My second thought was that they were in my dream both loving me and taking care of me in their own way. These are the only two men I’ve ever known who took care of me, tried to keep me safe, and loved me completely. And somehow, they were together with me.
Once the initial emotional reaction faded, I felt something I haven’t felt in six weeks (yes, it’s been six weeks). I felt peace. The two most important men in my life were in my dream, loving me in the only way they know how. It brings tears to my eyes right now thinking about it.
I know that dreams are rarely literal translations of thoughts or occurrences. But I made a few connections today. I think if I ever really needed him, he’d be there for me. I think he really does love me, as much as he can. I think that I will always love him, even if he never comes back to me. I think that I can stop worrying about that.
I was a psychology major in college (all that means is that I’m nosy about people’s problems, good at bullshit, and my diploma is worth the same as toilet tissue since I never got my masters). My final paper (the year my father died) was about the grief process, death and dying, you know, fun stuff. I became very familiar with Kubler-Ross’s Five Stages of Grief. I’ve recognized this whole time that I have been grieving, but not in the right “order” – denial came after anger, and bargaining was probably the stage I started in. Depression has lasted the longest, and sadness generates fear in me.
I read an excellent book over the weekend – Damaged by Shayne McClendon. I downloaded it during a week when she offered it for free. I knew it was erotic love stories, but I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t read about happy endings, but I never turn down a free e-book that’s sexy and hot.
Apparently, this was the right time. Each story was about two people, who loved each other with every ounce of their being, forced apart by circumstance and life. In the end, sometimes after years, they came back together – not without difficulties, not without tears. Her stories spoke to me. In one, I cried silently through the entire story. To love and lose, to be forced to continue living, and then to see that the heart knows who it loves – those stories changed something inside of me.
I love him. I will always love him. Whether I get to love him with my whole heart or my love has to stay tucked away in a corner, I don’t know yet. I need to believe he loves me – but I also believe that he’s tucked it away. That’s probably the wisest decision – he always was better at being pragmatic than I am.
I was reminded this weekend that most men aren’t like my lion. He is honest to a fault – even when it hurts, although you have to really make him angry in order for him to intentionally hurt your feelings. I’ve been living in fear that I’m somehow forgotten, that it was a lie, that he found someone else.
If he finds love somewhere else, I’ll know. He’ll tell me or the information will get to me. I believe he’ll tell me though. He knows how I feel. He knows I meant what I told him six weeks ago. He hasn’t had a lot of experience with a woman like me – he’s used to something much more common and less loyal and stubborn, but I think he believes it.
I look at the pictures I post on Tumblr, and they tell a story of my feelings, of my love – and of course, the kinky things that I know would turn him on if he had time to look at it. But the underlying story of love is what I notice the most. Yes, if we were together, we would be D/s, neither of us want vanilla – it doesn’t fit who we are as individuals. But without the love, the D/s would be empty and meaningless, and I don’t think either of us would be happy.
I’m not looking for love anywhere else. I’m not looking for a new Dominant. Dominant men make me nervous in a way that vanilla men don’t. Vanilla men aren’t long-term relationships. Vanilla men are good friends (I’m thinking of one in particular who has been an angel to me). They are good distractions; they are fun, but they aren’t the next love of my life. Dominant men represent something more permanent to me, and my lion educated me about the fake Doms, the posers, and the wannabes. I know to be nervous and skeptical.
Instead of being worried all the time that I’m forgotten, that I was never really loved, that it was just a dream, that I’m not enough, I’m finally at a different place. I’m not looking for anything. I’m not searching out my next Dom, because I know exactly who I want. But I’m not hiding from life, either. I am secure in the knowledge that for a short period in my life, I was thoroughly loved. I was not set to the side. Life simply intervened. It was no one’s fault. I’m not lacking in something. I did not cause this. He did not want this. But it is what it is.
I don’t know what the future has in store for me, for him, or for us. I have made the choice to believe he won’t forget me or our love. I choose to see that I’m not easily forgettable, that I touched his life just as much as he touched mine. I will continue to gently reach out when it makes sense, but I will not let those interactions (or lack thereof) dictate my feelings. I will not let my fears of not being enough direct my life.
I will live life and accept whatever it brings. I will make decisions that make the most sense to me. I will smile to myself and remember how well I was loved. I will accept no less from anyone – even from him – ever again. If it means I’m alone for a long time, that’s ok. I have beautiful children who need a strong mother. I have wonderful friends who need the kind of love I give. I have a family that sees a bright future for me, and they know I can build it for myself. I accept that I will have days when I am sad and days that are hard and lonely. I also accept that those days are the exception not the rule.
I’m not sure where I go from here. Maybe no where. Maybe this is just me coming close to an end of sorts and the beginning of something else…