Friday, October 26, 2012

A gift

It's almost scary, what he said.
The offer to change.
Or if not necessarily change, at least to review.
To think about something he doesn't usually think about.

Because of me.
Because I'm important to him.
Because he wants me in his life.

His words made me breathless.

We are really so different, you know.
In so many ways.
If I made a list,
if I told my friends about him,
they wouldn't be able to see it.

How to explain what's inside?

And it's not just the D/s.  I really think it's more than that.  Although certainly the ways we relate on that level are pretty extraordinary.  But on the other hand, I made him crazy. Then again, maybe beyond-slaves always drive their Masters crazy.

There are many ways to say "I love you."


Anonymous said...

Should we change? Should we ever change for someone else? Relatively speaking, I suppose there is change for the better... for the worse. But, to morph ourselves to fit another... I think this is dangerous. Your love for the fiend makes my heart explode. It is infectious. Why? Because this man might stand before judgement, moral scrutiny, and even self criticism, but when he stands before you, he is perfect. Perfect... as is. I call it: Love incarnate.

oatmeal girl said...

Not really.
I know who and what he is.
Or much of it.

And were I to read it as a description in a dating site profile I would probably flip right past. But love... well, love has its own standards. Incomprehensible to logic and very stubborn.

I wouldn't want someone to change. But one can change one's choices. Change one's behaviour. And change which of the many parts of oneself take the steering wheel. I'm grateful that he has other outlets for his sadistic self so that we share only as much of that as he thinks is safe, while teaching me to love it and want it and tolerate more.

So no.
Not perfect.
We're both - all - merely human.
while messing up often
try to do the best we can.

Anonymous said...

Haha... well, perhaps I do not mean to say that what makes the man is 'perfect', but the art of allowing him to 'be' is perfection. Your lens strips away the layers... You love him for what he is, isn't and anything in between. This is a rare gift, for both of you. I read this poem by David Whyte, it reminds me of your dance: "Enough. These few words are enough. If not these words, this breath. If not this breath, this sitting here. This opening to the life we have refused again and again, until now. Until now."

oatmeal girl said...

How beautiful.
Thank you for those words.