Sometimes I lose faith in what we…or maybe that should say W/we, are. I’ve been pretty good about not being whiney but yanno…it’s been 8 months since I’ve seen my Master.
EIGHT. FUCKING. MONTHS.
Sure we text a few times a day (like, good morning, good night, and some days a flurry of notes back and forth)…and I try to be respectful of his time, but sometimes it feels like I’m driving the relationship thing forward (or off a cliff?) all by myself. If I didn’t text him for a day, he wouldn’t write. Then, I get all pissed and mad and think to myself,
well fine. (no, that should be in caps in full snarky mental voice) F I N E. He doesn’t want to reach out to -me-, and I have to instigate ALL communication, so fuck him.
I do that. Yes, sad but true, nilla is not a perfect little princess of a slut.
Now, bear in mind that all this is all happening between my own ears, and actually reflects nothing in our relationship in the real world. In the past I would act on impulse and snarkfest him with a shit-ton of texts saying things like:
okay you don’t like me anymore okayfine
sure sure don’t reply, i don’t matter
whatever. i’m sure you’ve got more important things going on than replying/showing you care/calling the slut who’s been yours for YEARS
And on it would go. Then he wouldn’t reply to any of that, and eventually we’d talk, and he’d say
“nilla, what has changed? Hasn’t this been the way of us all this time? Sometimes I’m busy, and can’t reply. But nothing has changed. I’m still your M. You’re still my slut. All is well.”
So now I just repeat that in my head when the nerves fester up and explode…’he hasn’t called or texted and he mustn’t need me anymore’…is covered over by
‘nilla, nothing has changed…’
and it helps. Because I hear his voice saying it, and it stops the freefall.
But because I was feeling…lost? I dunno. Adrift. There, that’s a better word…I did send him a text mid-week:
‘are we still even a thing anymore? all we seem to say is good morning and good night…sigh
And he replied right away to that.
yeah it’s a problem – we are both pulled in many directions – we’ll work it out.
and I had to add my two cents
I hope so. We are pulled apart by life and I get that. I just miss you.
note the forlorn, sad voice there. Then M, being the M he is, and who knows exactly how to snap me out of my funk says
Keep that thought when I’m beating you.
And with that, the sun comes back out, I smile, and I know that everything will be okay again–eventually. And with that in mind, I shoot him a text a day or so ago and tell him I’m feeling desperately needy (do all you Domly types love to hear that?!), and he pulls a date out of the air and damn if it isn’t an open day on MY calendar too! So, peeps, we have a playdate in 2 weeks.
Of course, now I’m feeling old (sorry Jz) and fat (sorry Olivia) and gross. Me, who is usually totally not worried about this shit in normal life. So what, I shrug, I’m round. So what, I say with a smile, I’m short. So what, I’m coming to a fucking HUGE birthday in a matter of months and the wrinkles are popping. (that one still kinda makes my knees shake a bit…still growing older certainly beats the Big Dirt Nap!)
I have to *consciously* remind myself that he doesn’t care about that shit. I’m sure he’d be thrilled with a slender(er) submissive who was 30 years younger …hell, I wouldn’t say no if a genii appeared and offered that, but you know what? I love and adore him, but… he’s got his own wrinkles, his own messy hair, his own tummy. Neither of us are winning beauty contests here. We’re not in this for the (what I call) “glam-porn” where every tit is perky and bouncy, and every torn blouse is arty and sexy. Nope, just two old farts who will have the *best* time banging on one another (and banging one another!)…until I’m begging him to stop making me cum…and he’s refusing to stop.
Ah. See? You’ve all let me vent and now I’m not feeling so terribly gross after all. It’s not about the looks…it’s about the actions, the way we make one another feel, and being together. It may be an odd way to show love for one another, but really, when all is said and done, I’m okay with that!