“Many people have a wrong idea of what constitutes true happiness. It is not attained through self-gratification, but through fidelity to a worthy purpose.”   ~Helen Keller

A heartfelt thank-you to everyone who commented last time. Even though I’m sure it was not the direct intent, seeing the reaction my words garnered served as a much-needed kick in the ass. I really regret my selfish little outburst the other day; I regret how I acted, and I regret what I said.

I was being indescribably childish, and I was hinting at the idea that maybe I didn’t trust my Master to do what’s best for me. Which is ridiculous and untrue and that sort of emotional manipulation –should- be beneath me.

I’m so embarrassed it apparently isn’t. I’m mortified, guys. MORITFIED.

But I guess that’s the beauty of a blog – since I don’t believe in just deleting things and pretending they didn’t happen, I’ll have to deal with some of my mistakes publicly. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll make me less likely to make them in the future.

I get “my” way plenty in this relationship. I don’t get up each morning and everything I do all day is pure misery for me. I’m generally a happy, well-cared for and deeply caring girl. Antonio is a reasonable man, and he allows me wiggle room because – as I’m sure you’ll all be shocked to hear – I’m an imperfect human. (“Imperfect human” was redundant, wasn’t it? Ah, well.)

If I’ve got an issue with something and I present it politely, respectfully, and honestly… And my issue is legit? He’s likely to make a modification. He’s not into power for power’s sake, he admits his mistakes without ever letting them compromise his self-confidence, and he recognizes that life would be a whole lot more miserable if we weren’t flexible.

But nothing came of me whining and sulking and openly doubting him in that backwards, nasty, self-centered way, in private or in public. No modifications, accommodations, or reevaluations. Because nothing good is EVER EVER EVER going to come of behavior like that. That is an area with precisely zero wiggle room.

If I act like a manipulative, petulant child? I get treated like one. Period.

And thank goodness for that.

I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I were ever allowed to get away with acting that way. That’s not productive, that doesn’t teach me anything, I don’t grow and I don’t learn. Watching him cave in the face of me being a bitch would devastate me beyond words. I’ve melted down more than once, but I have never seen him cave to manipulation or pity-mongering. Ever.

And what a gift that is. To never have to doubt him, his strength, his integrity, his confidence. To never have to question if I *could* be manipulating him, on purpose or accidentally, or to have to watch my steps in case he sees something wrong. To know there will be no back and forth emotional games.

He doesn’t sulk, he doesn’t manipulate, he doesn’t lie to cover his ass, he just EXISTS. Open, honest, beautiful, brilliant, and steady.  Days like today, I’m positive I don’t deserve him.  Most other days, I’m just pretty sure I don’t. 

It comes down to this – I struggle in my chains sometimes. Not because I want them off. Because I want to know they are still there. Or because they are chafing somewhere and I can’t seem to find my voice to speak up about it. Or because I’m itchy and I can’t reach the itch, and instead of just saying something, I thrash around, thinking in my head he “should” see my discomfort and read my mind and omg I can’t believe he’s not stepping in to scratch! (I’m kind of a moron.)

But what happens when I struggle, refuse to speak maturely about things, and don’t calm down when he says to? I get the chains yanked. And in the *yank* moment, the areas that were chafing hurt like hell. There is no give where I’m accustomed to a little bit of freedom. It hurts.

But it serves its purpose.  And helps me get back to serving mine. 

And even if it kills me to get there, one of these days, I’m not going to need it anymore.

P.S. – I’m going AWAY!  This time tomorrow I’ll be… Well, I’ll be on a plane.  But, whatever.  I’ll be en route to see Antonio. For six days.  I’m bringing my computer, but I dunno if I’ll get any posting done.  I had originally thought Antonio was going to have to work at least a couple days while I was there, but he said last night he wasn’t going to work at all! That said, he does sleep funky hours on vacation – he stores sleep-needs like a camel sometimes, I swear.  So if I get bored and need  help resisting poking him in the eyeball to wake him up, I’ll hop on here.