Sunday, September 23, 2012

He worries about my future

Not every man can support his mistress.

Not every man worries about what will become of her as she ages. Especially as they are both already aging. I may catch some glances now, I admit I look considerably younger than other women my age. But I'm sliding towards 64 and the question of who will feed me is not an idle one.

So it comes up every so often.
At least he's stopped urging me to find someone else.
At least he's stopped trying to fix me up with other men.
But it hasn't stopped worrying him.

It slipped out last night.
Cryptically.
Its passage eased by wine.
A text.
Very late at night.
Offered between snippets of romantic lyrics.

"I'm sorry."

With no hint of an explanation till today.

It upsets me.
It always upsets me when he brings it up.
Maybe because I know he's right in a way.
But there are many forms of poverty.

I stayed with ex-hubby #2 for years for financial security, and it nearly destroyed me. The fiend has worked long and hard to build my self-esteem. I'll be damned if I'll risk destroying that by pursuing a relationship in a search for support in my old age. And how could I build a connection with someone else when every moment I'd be making comparisons to the person I wish I were with?

So we go on.
It is what it is.
Beautiful.
Dangerous.
Tender.
Fierce.
And,
for better or worse,
all I want.





Monday, September 3, 2012

4 years

It was on Labor Day 4 years ago.
4 years ago, I begged him to take me in his service.

The day after, I wrote this:
people suddenly appear, people far beyond what i could have imagined. and then there is no choice. all i can say is “yes, Sir” and obey.
And now?

I had no idea.
No idea at all.

In captivity, I am free.
In my chains, I am strong.
In submission, I am beautiful.

And oh, yes.
I lost 5.4 pounds in the first week.