“Wake up…”

Sharp breathe in, I open my eyes… We drove all evening. I hadn’t felt that exhausted for quite a while. I remember falling asleep curled up in his arms… still haunted by sadness that would cover me over every time I laid my head on the pillow – a habit that began on the night of 26 January 2008.

But this is a new morning. A very different one. His eyes are green today. I watch my reflection in those two emerald green pools as he strokes the skin on my cheek and flicks his fingers through my hair.

He doesn’t know since when I have this lock of white hair. That night when the pain long kept inside finally marked me forever. To be honest, this is nothing. I think I was glad my entire hair didn’t turn white. This… is a sore wound… just a reminder… of the mistakes I will never make again in my life.

But this morning I don’t want to think about it. I kiss his lips and breathe the delicious scent of his skin. I am grateful to him for standing by, for being patient, for taking care of me… not just on words, but for real.

And today I finally wake up free. Free to enjoy the light pouring into the room through the leaves of trees outside the window. Free to look forward to the rest of my life. And I know I want my every morning to begin like this – with guessing which colour his eyes are today.

“Wake up now. We will be late for work…”

Friend or foe?

After having a few rants about freedom of speech and expression in my private correspondence, as well as receiving several requests to update my journal (which I was very flattered and surprised to receive), I decided it was time to start realising my freedoms again.

Normally I would update this bit if I had something unusual to reflect upon. Not today’s case though. For those of you, who know me closer than the others, this will feel familiar, however, please bear with me on it…

I have met Him twice recently. The second time he was on the other side of the road. Casual smiles, cloying compliments and long ambiguous looks in the eyes - both of us - young and gorgeous, apparently enjoying ourselves and not needing each other. And for the second time He casually complains he doesn’t have my mobile number, says that we should get together for a cup of coffee and do some catching up for the five years we’ve been actively avoiding each other. 

The last time he and I spoke, he ended up hurting me really badly. And of course, both of us were just too young, and passion like that had no other chances than ending in such a big disappointment on both ends. I liked Him a lot. I couldn’t come to terms with myself as to why I hurt Him, because I wanted Him so much, because I could feel every step He would take on this Earth, and every time I was about to crush into Him on the street I knew it exactly 10 seconds before. I hurt Him… and He hurt me back. And then… well… He just died.

He died the last time we spoke, and after that all crying, and praying, and self-beating… it was all gone. And He’s been dead to me for five years. Since then lots of things changed, people would come and go, I even got engaged once. And now here He stands in front of me, all made up, smelling delicious as always and looking sexy and… telling He has made a mistake and that’s exactly why He needs my phone number. And I try… try really hard to remember how it felt… trembling at the sound of His voice, knees going weak with that cheeky grin… and I can’t. He’s dead to me. And that’s exactly why He can’t have my phone number.

I never saw a point in staying friends with someone, for whom you had very deep feelings. I couldn’t explain exactly why I felt like that… up until a few days before. I can’t stay friends with anyone I loved before because… I’m a submissive. When I love someone, it’s deep and serious. I am devoted as a dog and dedicate whole my being to that person. I burn, and exist, and yearn, and fight… I have never ever left anyone myself, because when I belong to someone, I truly need that very special person in my life.  Sure, with very few I initiated the break up myself. But it was after I got hurt just too many times to take more… after I exceeded my limit of blindness in love. So does it really make sense to pretend to be friends with someone, who have used up all your trust, and someone you no longer feel anything for? I don’t think so.

Had a few funny chats with some “Doms”, and I would like to share some thoughts.

I just can’t really get what it is that makes some of you think that only because I am submissive I should be willing to please you from the first second you talk to me. Do you think I should be grateful for you bestowing such honour on me by dropping occasional “hello” in the chat window? Or is it that you think “submissive” equals “stupid bitch” or “worthless cunt”, or whichever other name you are used to call women?

Although this may sound like a complaint, but to be honest, this abusive and bad mannered type is not the horrible. Because there is another one, even worse (and this is only my view of course). In my humble opinion, the second type of guys, who think you should trust yourself to them just because they are smart and got responsible jobs, is even worse. There is a certain conclusion I am inclined to make when I see someone who enjoys highlighting their intellectuality. I tend to think that such behaviour is specific for those who in fact can’t find acceptance among their “own kind” (i.e. colleagues) and therefore use the concept of D/s to assert their “intellectual superiority”.

So to cut the long story short, this is what I want to share. By no means should submissiveness imply mental inferiority. On the contrary, if I may claim so, D/s, more than other types of human relationships, is based on maximal intellectual compatibility and equality, where the Dominant enjoys being in emotional, sexual and mental control of a woman who is in fact strong enough as entity, but enjoys giving up control to someone who is just good enough to take her breathe away.

So if you want to be good enough to take my breathe away, don’t put too much stress on all the fine qualities why you choose me… do not forget that exactly those qualities allow me to assess and choose You.