Wednesday, October 14, 2009

It's just a word

What does it mean, anyway?


It's not like you have to fill out a questionnaire and answer yes to 180 of the 200 questions before you're allowed to use the word. So I can't pin down why I feel compelled to say it. To pin that tag on the vast bulletin board of my feelings for my demon muse.

I just do.

I didn't want to. He declared quite clearly from the start what he would NOT be to me, and for many reasons I had no complaints about the limits he set. He was challenging, exciting, stimulating, arousing, but I expected nothing more. I put up a wall against anything more.

Then one day,
way back last Fall,
he mentioned
and James Joyce
in the same e-mail message.
And I put my foot down.
In a panic, I put my foot down.
Can you imagine?
"Don't you ever again!"
I proclaimed.
But it was too late.
At the moment I read his words,
it was long past too late.

And soon after, he told me I was in love with him. Such a matter-of-fact statement, he takes it for granted, the subs always fall in love with him. So I stopped fighting what I couldn't control.

What he didn't expect me to control.

He doesn't seem to mind. And I don't either. It's part of the warmth, the contentment, the security that I feel when I think of him, when I write him, when I serve him, when we talk in the evenings, whatever small gift of time he can find for me. And sometimes he rubs it all over himself, this love of mine. Like the time he ordered me to repeat those words over and over again until he came.

I love you.
I love you.
I love you!

No, he doesn't say those words back. I don't ask for them, I don't expect them, I don't want them. "Yeah, right..." you think, but really, it's better this way. And every so often, when I say I love him, he will respond almost kindly. "Yes, I know," he says, accepting it without bombast, and then I know it's ok.

So no, he doesn't love me. I am his pet, I am his treasure, that's better than words of love tossed lightly without meaning.

He owns me, he encourages me, he drives me, he looks after me. And although it would be nice seeing him more often, touching him more often, giving my eyes to his and my mouth to his, it's been long enough now and deep enough now that I feel secure and content. He is always with me. His ownership surrounds me.

So love? It's just a word. We all of us use it when it feels right. And the sadist? "You will be fine," he says. "Report to me," he says, when I tell him I'm nervous about seeing the dermatologist to be examined for signs of suspicious spots. He doesn't have to flood me with comforting words. I know the support is there. And afterwords, when it's official that I am still cancer-free after 20 years, he writes: "Just as I predicted." And it doesn't feel cold or cocky. He is saying:

"Of course.
You are mine.
I know these things.
And all is right with our world."


Anonymous said...

a very sweet post. i think it's totally okay, this that you describe. who uses what words sort of keeps the whole power balance working, doesn't it? and still you get what you need, and what makes you happy. that is what's important.

Anonymous said...

this is simply beautiful...

...the basic beauty of just...being.

being who you both are without need for contorting into the frames of reference of an exterior world...

truly, this is love.

smiles and warmth gleaned from your words is returned to you from me, OG :)

with thanks,and deepest respect. weirdgirl.

Paul said...

OG, this is one of your loveliest and most moving posts and perhaps the realest.
The feeling that flows between your Demon Muse and you have been obvious to me for some time.
I love that you are so happy and content, long may it continue.
BTW great that you are still free of melanomas.
Love and warm hugs,

mamacrow said...

mmmmmm :) warm fuzzy feeling post! Lovely :)

and CONGRATS on the all clear... I feel there ought to be some kind of ritual celebration... a facial maybe?

nancy said...

It is a wonderful post..and I'm glad you are so happy!
And YEA on the all clear-- there should be some celbration for that, mamacrow is right!

oatmeal girl said...

meg, thank you - it's always such a treat when you pop in and comment. and you're right, of course, the distinctions in word choice do accord with the way the power is distributed. and are accepted because of it as well. in an "ordinary" relationship i'd be parading around grumbling "what the hell's wrong with him, anyway?" i am very grateful for this relationship that lives by its own rules and that, somewhat to my surprise, is fairly satisfying for both of us.

as all relationships should be.

weirdgirl! how nice to hear from you again! and to offer respect... that means a lot. thank you.

Paul - yes, whatever flows between us, it is very rich. As for the melanoma - thanks much. I was frightfully nervous, even though there was no reason to be more than any other time. But once you've had it, you can never take your continued safety for granted.

mamacrow and nancy - yes, a ritual would be appropriate. that made me think of the philosopher, who was always so good at devising rituals. Ah well...

Louise said...

Wonderful news in many ways... I'll drink a toast to your health and well-being, that is at least a ritual that can be accomplished across time and space.

oatmeal girl said...

Louise, it's so good to hear from you! I do hope things are good for you as well these days.