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“Helping”

29 Feb

Sir is not feeling well ~ a cold, allergies ~ one of those kinds of things.

i want to help.  i want to take Him chicken soup, rub His feet, fluff His pillow.

Now understand that i’m not really very good at any of that sickbed stuff, and in fact, i get bored with it pretty quickly.  i mean, once you’ve fed, rubbed, and fluffed, what’s left?

But the urge to do it is strong today.

When i’m sick, i mostly prefer to be left alone, with little bits of attention from time to time.  But mostly i just want to sleep.

And actually, Sir seems to be pretty much that way too.  

But we’d planned to do something tonight.  

i’ve been particularly looking forward to it, partly because Thursday, i have to go to the funeral home.   It’s  the kind of funeral home thing where i’m close to the survivor and knew the deceased, and it was a sudden death, and i will need to stay a fairly long time, and i’m totally not looking forward to it, of course. .  Sir has offered to accompany me, which is sweet, and makes me feel good, but of course i don’t want him to spend several hours there, and He couldn’t take off work for it anyhow, which i’m going to do, so ~ yeah, i don’t know exactly what to plan.  We’ll see

In any case, tonight would be a pleasure, time for us.  

The munch is this Saturday, and i’d like to go to that, although we haven’t talked about it yet, but He’s usually good with that.  So then for sure i want alone time tonight.  And ~ and ~

~ of course if He’s sick, He’ll need ~~~ um, what?

You know, i want to jump up and down, wave my arms, and call out, “Let me help!! me!  me!!  Call on me!! i’ll be right over!” 

Yeah.  Probably not so helpful.

So i’m letting go.  i know that He knows i want to help.

Um, actually, i might have done the jumping up and down, waving my hand in the air thing last night.  Figuratively that is.

So i’ll back off.  Wait for Him tell me what He needs tonight.  That’s what helping is really about, right?

Sigh…

This is a symbolic sitting at His feet  and waiting for instructions.  i know that.  i get that.

It’s just not nearly as much fun as doing it for real, with all the sensual underpinning of leaning into Him, touching and stroking and…

ok, enough of that.  i can’t do those things, certainly not right now.

i will not email Him to tell Him i want to help.  i will not email Him to tell Him that i’m not going to tell Him how much i want to help.  

i have already sent Him my “good morning” email.  

i need to remember, this is not about me.  i don’t need to ask Him to reassure me that He’ll let me help if He wants me to.  i don’t need to give Him permission not to need help.  

This is not about me.

They also serve who only stand and wait.  

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i Needed That…

26 Feb

My Sir has been working every day for three weeks.   Not just a little bit, but long hours every day.  Yesterday was not an exception.

So it was after 7:00 when He got to my house.  i had cooked ~ pasta, which is what He’d asked for, even though it’s not on my diet.  But i made eggplant parmesan, following the recipe that is on my diet, for me.  

i used the same sauce for both, starting with a tomato-basil-garlic jar of sauce, and adding sautéed mushroom, onion, and meatless meat.   The eggplant was done, and i let the sauce for His pasta simmer while i waited for HIm.  Then it took just a few minutes to cook the pasta ~ angel hair.

We had a small side salad.  i had gotten some fancy, organic thousand island dressing, which is what He likes, but forgot to ask Him if it tasted any better than regular.

i made some chocolate covered strawberries, which He likes a lot,  for dessert.

i burnt the first piece of garlic bread i put in the oven ~ just got sidetracked and forgot about it ~ but threw in another piece and managed not to burn it.

When cooking is part of my service to Sir, i’m a little awkward with it.  Christmas dinner for 15 takes about the same amount of fussing, in my mind anyhow.  Fretting about whether or not He’ll mind fake meat, whether or not i should get whole wheat pasta, forgetting to put the wax paper on the plate before i do the  strawberries, and feeling upset because they’re going to stick to the plate….

… most of which are things that He’s not going to notice or care much about.

Sheesh.  

But there is pleasure in it too, even in the fussing over it.  Not as much pleasure as there is in, um, cock worship,  for example, right?  Probably not as much pleasure for either of us.  But still.

He is tired, and is not eating well, and wanted pasta, and it is my pleasure to provide what He wants and needs in a way that pleases.

After dinner. after dessert, we sit in the living room.  i start a fire in the fireplace, and sit at His feet.  

He puts a collar on me, the one with the padlock.  i love the sound of the lock clicking closed.  

He removes my shirt.

He plays with my nipples, teasing and tweaking til they are tender, a little sore.  

He shows me a new knot He’s learned ~  tying my wrists, the rope encircles my wrist, and wraps around my hand.  He ties it so there’s a knot in the palm of my hand so that ~

~ when He has led me to the door, and my arms are pulled high, suspended over my head, there is a knot for me to hold on to.  It is comforting as He exposes my ass,

and begins to spank, quickly turning it pink with His hand.  

Then the flogger…

And then the spoon.  The heavy wooden spoon that lands with a THWACK, leaves a stinging tingle and a red circle…

followed by the rope ~ ah!  O, it stings and burns… and while He’s doing it, He’s pinching a nipple ~ well, and doing that when He was using the spoon too,

so i am turned on and gasping from pleasure and pain.  Whimpering.  When His hand probes between my legs, i am so wet, it makes Him smile.

“Yes,” He says, “Good.  Good girl.”

And when He unties me, leads me to His workbench, bends me over it, fastening my hands so i am draped, head down, almost on my toes…

and His hands probe and rub, caress until i’m cumming, cumming so hard i ~

am embarrassed to tell you about the puddle i leave on the floor under me.  Yikes.

And then He unties me and takes me to bed.

He spends the night, next to me, i can feel Him behind me, and around me.

i sleep with my collar, and when i half-wake in the night, i feel the padlock, resting heavy in the hollow just under my throat.

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The Four Agreements – continued

25 Feb

Here’s what Smiling Soul said about the next agreement:

Don’t Take Anything Personally
When a Dom or Master asks you to do something it doesn’t necessarily mean He is unsatisfied with you or your service. It could have nothing to do with you. 

Namaste gave an example in her own experience. Master Obsidian requested a potted plant be moved to the other side of the window after it was placed at the window six months ago. She immediately thought He was unhappy with the plant’s placement for six months. She asked Him if was displeased where she put it. He said, “No. I just wanted it moved to the other side. Nothing more.” She realized she had put too much importance to the request and it had nothing to do with her. 

 

We as subs/slaves do this all the time. We try to second guess our Owner’s purpose or intent. He would communicate if there was a connection to you. My take on this one: How freeing on one’s mental state! You mean it isn’t about me? smiles

 

When i first read this one, it reminded me of my what my mother used to say when i was self-conscious about my appearance.
She’d point out, blunt and succinct, that other people were not paying nearly as much attention to me as i thought they were.  But ~ but ~

~ well, i was pretty sure sometimes they were.  {laughing…}   and i KNEW if i wore THAT they’d all be looking and laughing at me!

Seriously though.  This agreement reminds me that the world doesn’t actually revolve around me.  That i am not the main character ~ not the hero ~in anyone else’s story.  {Or heroine.  But why does hero make me think of a superman cape and heroine of being tied to the train tracks and screaming for rescue?  Ok, that’s another post…}

Anyhow.  Not the center of the universe.

It’s hard sometimes to recognize the reaction for the egotism it is though because it’s often humble, self-blaming.  Like Namaste, we think, “O, did i have the plant in the wrong place before?”

Is it my fault he didn’t call?  What did i do wrong?  She didn’t speak to me, i haven’t heard from her…  Is he mad at me?  Is she?

So, here’s a quick balance ~~ maybe sometimes they are mad at me, maybe sometimes i did do something that wasn’t actually my best choice.  O, gosh, i have to brace myself for this ~ maybe ~ maybe i’m not perfect!

{Much wailing and gnashing of teeth…}

Yeah.  There i am, back to that egotistical self.

Both my parents had a wide perfectionistic streak.  It’s an ongoing battle for me to let go of the need to be good ~ better ~ best ~ all the time.

i work at reminding myself that it’s ok for other people to feel what they feel, perceive their experiences differently from the way i do.  It’s ok for it not to be about me.  For them to not even be considering me.

With my Sir, this is easier because of how He is.  

i have been seduced before by the magic of “you make me happy.”  Even when i’ve known better, i’ve gotten sucked in by new versions of that story.

If they – if “he” believes that, for real, then sooner or later, when he doesn’t “feel happy,” he’s likely to look for what i’ve done that’s reduced his happiness factor.  After all, if i made the “happy” happen, then i must be withholding it now.

My Sir is not like that.  He is way too aware of His own ~ His own self ~ to make me the author of His happiness.

O, i please Him.  Make no mistake about that…  But i’m not responsible for making Him happy.  So whether He’s happy or not ~ i don’t have to take it personally.  i can accept Him the way He is, and love Him without worrying about how it affects Him

i can be me, and let Him be who He is.

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Saturday

23 Feb

Saturday, He has a plan.

i don’t know what it is.  Yet.

He says it is more than dinner.

More than touching and stroking and caressing.

More than fucking.

i had a miserable day at work on Tuesday.  

It looked like some good things that we expected to happen, weren’t going to.  i could have been ok with that.  Then it looked like some really bad things were going to happen, and lots of people – clients and staff – were going to suffer because of it.  It looked like the good things were lost through corporate negligence, and the bad things coming through another organization’s bureaucratic rigidity and my organization’s mindless indifference and acceptance.

I was distraught.

This was on top of the usual issues and problems, catastrophes and misery.

i was overwhelmed. 

So on Tuesday, we were supposed to have gone out for dinner, and He thought we needed some down time instead.  So we ate in, and He calmed and soothed me.   He took care of me.

i felt better, and appreciated it. 

Then He warned me.  About Saturday.

He says it will be structured.  

He says, “you can relax and submit and I will do the rest, or rather, you will do the rest, as I dictate. No decisions, no worries, just submit.”

i know ~ He tells me ~ there will be  a red ass involved (mine.)

Then, late yesterday afternoon, the new, overwhelming issues at work got resolved.  Yep.

The good things are happening.  The bad things are not.

That’s partly cause i put a bunch of energy into arguing and persuading and playing with numbers and making phone calls, and so did some other people, and then some people had to listen and act on what we were saying, and now?

It’s all good.

So i was doing happy dances all over the place.  Then ~ i had this horrible thought ~

what if Sir was just doing whatever He was going to do on Saturday because i had been so upset?  What if He changed His plans now that i was ok?

Yes, i know that was goofy, goofy, goofy.  But at the moment, it made perfect sense.

And really ~ my 2nd husband?  That’s how he was.  He was at his best when i was at my worst.  If i could have just stayed messed up, or sick, or pathetic in some way, we might still be married.

Giggling.. really, that’s the truth.  

But i had this scary moment of “what if?”  

So ~ i asked Him.  i was kinda proud of myself for asking.  And at first He didn’t even understand what i was talking about, so i explained my worry, and admitted it was goofy, and He said:

“No my Saturday plans were not just to appease your upset little self,   The Dom in me reminds you that it would not be that way… No it’s much deeper than that.”

And my heart thrilled.  i can’t wait.

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How Many Days?

30 Jan

Ok, how do you count how many days left til you do something?

Do you count the day you’re in?  Do you count the day you’re doing it?

i think there’s 4 days left til WW ~ Today, Tuesday,Wednesday, and Thursday, right??  And today only counts cause it’s before dawn.  By tonight, i’ll be thinking “3 more days!”  That’s right, isn’t it?

It’s been a week today since i saw Sir.  i know, all you people in LDR’s are playing tiny violins and rolling your eyes at me.  Sorry.

But i miss Him!  {She says, with just a twinge of a whine in her voice… or maybe that’s just her country accent.}

i miss the way He wraps His arms around me when He comes through the front door.  He pulls me into Him and i can feel that He’s glad to see me.

i miss His mouth.  He kisses me a thousand different ways ~ sweet, passionate, gentle, firm, fierce, tender ~ and every one is a pleasure.  He kisses my lips, my face, my neck.  His mouth covers my nipples, licks, tugs and pulls, bites, but not with His teeth too much.  

He explores my most intimate parts with His mouth, spreading my legs wide, splayed out for His pleasure and mine…

i miss His hands on my body.  On my arms, on my nipples, probing between my legs.  i miss His hands.  

i miss touching Him, stroking Him with my hands, feeling His skin, exploring Him, with touch that’s light and feathery,  or massaging, rubbing,..

i miss kissing Him, caressing His body with my lips.  And my mouth.  i miss kneeling at His feet, tucked in between His legs.  i think i miss that most of all.

Sigh…

i miss talking to Him. Talking about the day, our work, family, philosophy, life… He listens intently, holding my hand in His, attends to me so that his attention is an embrace itself.

He makes me laugh.  He tells great stories, funny stories which have a point and a purpose too.  

He is a wise man.

He doesn’t have rules for me, and i thought i wanted rules, but maybe i don’t need them.   

i am naturally respectful ~ not just to Him, but in general.  i’m a Mistress of the art of disagreeing respectfully, most of the time.  And i rarely disagree with Him anyhow.

i’m already eager to please.

i don’t know.  The rules would have to be fairly arbitrary, and i don’t think He is interested in that.  But ~~

~~ it’s early days.  Five months or so.  Next weekend will be the first time we’ve slept together.

Which brings me back to where i started ~

Four more days.

i can’t wait.

Smiling…

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How Much Happy?

24 Jan

How much happy can i contain??

Like a big soup pot of happiness, we just keep throwing more stuff into the mix, and it just gets better.  Last night, his birthday dinner with his kids was lots of fun.

Sitting next to each other in the booth holding hands, or with His hand on my thigh, or His arm around me…  Well, when He wasn’t actually eating that is.  

i like that.  The physical contact we have, even when it’s casual, not even sexual, not even kinky, just there.  Solid.  When we walk, He takes my hand, and it is just right.  Not too tight, not too loose, just right.

So He liked what i got Him, which was not anything exciting, just a couple of gift certificates, but they had meaning to us.  One, of course, was to Starbucks ~ had to be, right?  The other was to the restaurant where we had our first date, which is a favorite of His.  

i wrote a birthday poem to go with them, with little illustrations, and i think He got a kick out of that.  

And i gave him a future gift.  It’s the book of His choice, something He’d like for us to read together.  It can be kinky or not.  We might find it among the vendors at Winter Wickedness, or shop at a bookstore, or look on Amazon.  Whatever book He’d like for us to share.

But here’s the cool part ~ for me.  He likes this stuff.  Really.  The meaning of it all, not just the gift.  i did little clip art stuff in the card i made ~ and He liked that, not just in a humoring me, o, isn’t aisha cute way, but for real.  

i don’t know how to explain it.  Like ~

~ like it meant what i wanted it to mean.  Like He gets it.  Gets me.

And He liked the book idea.  It surprised Him; it intrigued Him.  It pleased Him.

After dinner, we came back to my house, sat in the kitchen and talked.  Planning for Winter Wickedness.  Talking about our kids.  Just talking. 

Just happy.

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Now Serving Obedience?

17 Jan

Jake has posted another thought-provoking post, {thank you, Jake} and then tweaked my interest in blogging about it a bit more in the comments.   You can read it here if you haven’t already.

He talks about the difference between a service submissive and an obedient submissive.  A service submissive is:  “one who enjoys the act of performing services for their Dominant partner, whether sexual or non-sexual. ”  

An obedience submissive “feel(s) excitement, arousal and joy at being “made” to perform an action or follow an instruction.”

So, i think i’m a service submissive, with a little obedience thrown in.  That surprised Jake, who would have thought i was an obedience submissive.  Which made me stop and think.  

i do like to be controlled.  i like being told what to do and how to do it.   i like the idea that i’d be punished if i did it wrong.  {i said i like the idea, don’t know if i’d like the reality.}

But i think that’s because i want to please.  i want that more than anything ~ not to please everybody all the time {laughing…} but to please my Sir.

Even in my first, most vanilla marriage, i would have done just about anything to please him.  The problem there was that he was only pleased for about a minute, and then he went back to feeling martyred and ill-treated.  He just wore me out.  Eventually, i had to accept that i was never going to please him, no matter what.

But that’s beside the point ~ except that the desire was there.

If you read my blog, you know i’m not a great housekeeper, and it’s not something i really enjoy doing.  But when i was married the second time, i ran around the house every night before he came home, tidying and fluffing and straightening.  He never knew i did it, so i don’t think he was pleased either, but i tried!

None of which proves i’m a service sub.  Hmmmm.  

Well.  Jake’s post has a picture of a woman providing oral stimulation to a man.  He suggests that for an obedience submissive, being “made to” perform an act is what makes it pleasurable for them.

i, on the other hand, am a big fan of cock worship ~ and it would hurt my feelings if Sir thought He had to “make me” or order me.  But ~ i love being told what to do because ~~

~~ then i know that whatever it is will actually please Him. 

That’s my theory anyhow.

And i so often have this sense of longing to give…  of wanting to offer.  And am sometimes restrained by fear that what i want to give ~ what i have to give ~ will not be what He wants.  Will be too much, or too little, or bad timing.

Being obedient avoids those particular anxieties.

So.  Interesting topic.  i think i need to think about it more, and maybe talk with Sir about it too.

Sir was telling me in the rope book i gave Him for Xmas, there’s a chapter on “giving and taking” but in a different context than i’d thought of.  

In the book, “giving” submissives offer their submission ~ to bondage, i suppose ~ and “taking” submissives provide some level of resistance that has to be overcome by the Dom.  So the one gives herself to bondage, the other needs to be taken.

Somehow that flows along with this, and it all circles around giving and receiving too.  But i’m not gonna figure it out this morning…

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Sunday Morning… with Kris

15 Jan

Laughing… and i didn’t wake up hung over this morning either.  But i slept in til 7:00 which is so unusual i might as well have been hung over!

And it is Sunday morning.

i love this song.  It’s so sweetly melancholy.  i think i always hear it in my head on Sunday morning.

Sir and i had a lovely time last night.  i know you’re not surprised.

We spent some time sorting through the things that had been an issue between us.  i think we left things in a good place ~ very close to what i said yesterday ~

~ neither one of us knows exactly what we want this relationship to be like. We are both willing to be patient and experiment and see where it goes.

i say that and it sounds so obvious, it sounds stupid.  But sometimes, people do know what they want, or at least think they know.  Then they look for someone who will fit that vision of what a relationship should be.

This is funny ~ i ran across this list i made ~ apparently in 2009.  It’s my wish list for a man.  It doesn’t define the relationship, but i sure am clear about what qualities i was looking for.

Physical:

  • Not in terrible health; not someone who talks about their blood pressure or diabetes all the time.
  • Not obese
  • Has a kind face – or a wise face, or maybe even an interesting face.
  • Interested in physical intimacy.

Social:

  • Not racist, sexist, classist, homophobic, and so on.  Appreciates diversity.
  • Has a social conscience; does some things to help make the world a better place.
  • Reasonably comfortable in social settings, not agoraphobic or with an anxiety disorder.
  • Has friends.
  • Fun to be with.  Likes to do things – listen to music, dance, go to events, festivals, plays, eat out, travel – at least some of those.

Mental:

  • Intelligent
  • Likes to read, and is well-read.
  • Good sense of humor.
  • Interested in the world, curious, still learning.

Emotional:

  • Warm, caring, compassionate, empathic
  • Strong – has self-control, able to handle his own emotions, handles adversity reasonably well.
  • Sensitive – able to empathize with other’s pain, able to recognize his own pain and come to terms with it.
  • Generous, loving, sensual.
  • Not whiny, depressed, anxious, or dependent.
  • Capable of emotional intimacy.

Spiritual:

  • Spirituality is a source of strength for him in some way.
  • Tolerant of a variety of spiritual traditions, can appreciate diversity.
  • Accepts my beliefs as valid for me, respects them even if he doesn’t agree or share them.

i’m telling you, Sir meets all those criteria.  Every.  Single.  One.

How amazing is that????

More happy sighs…  

So i don’t know ~ neither one of us knows ~ what we’ll build between us, but He is the person i want to try to build with.

i know.  Y’all already knew that.  Let me know when you get bored with my happy, happy, happy and maybe i’ll do some fantasies or something..

Now i gotta go make chili and a tres leches cake.  Yikes.

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Another Saturday Night

14 Jan

That’s always been one of my favorite songs, and it’s never been less true than now.  Laughing…

i am in a strange mood this morning – probably because i have to go do my volunteer gig outside and it’s 18 degrees out there.  Eighteen.  

Fortunately, the wonderful ‘Nilla made me some hand warmers that are beautiful and will be fabulously warm.  i want to post pictures of them on here, but i think they’re too unique for that to be a good idea… so just imagine beautiful and warm and handmade from wool from a sheep she knows personally – how cool is that???

They look a lot like this:

Or with gloves on, they’d look something like this:

Anyhow.  i’ve got the wonderful hand warmers and furry boots and long underwear and my big ole down filled jacket that makes me look like a roly poly, so i should be all good.  Layered up like this:

 i probably wouldn’t get hurt if i fell down, but i probably wouldn’t be able to get back up either!

And it doesn’t matter, ’cause it’s Saturday night, and Sir and i will be seeing each other.  He wants to get together for some “us” time before we go out to dinner and a movie with my sister and brother-in-law, so that’s something to really, really look forward to.

Happy sigh…

i think one of the things we’re looking at is what role kink plays in our relationship ~ or ~ not kink, but dominance and submission.  

Are we headed for the kind of relationship mouse and Omega have?

i kind of don’t think so, i don’t think i’ll ever give up as much control as mouse has, and i don’t think He wants me to.  {Um, i hope you don’t mind me using you two as an example all the time.  You really are my template for a 24/7 TPE relationship that works.}

And for real, i don’t know what i want.  So ~ for example ~ do i want rules and protocols with punishment if i break them?  Do i want them to be kink-related, like orgasm control, or reality based, like writing for my vanilla blog once a week?

Clearly, i don’t know what i want, and i don’t know what He wants, which is probably good.  That leaves me open to a wide range of possibilities.

So i’m off to face a wicked cold world ~ with the prospect of much pleasure in the near future.  Hope y’all are staying warm.

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To Tell or Not To Tell…

13 Jan

… that was the question yesterday.  Whether it was better to keep my crazy ruminating to myself or spill it out for His consideration.

Yesterday morning i was fine with waiting and watching.  By last night, driving home from work after a 12 hour day, i had pretty much slipped into losing my mind.

i knew i was getting a little crazy, i just couldn’t seem to help it.

Emotional mind.  It’s a powerful thing.

And then i really, really didn’t know what to do.  i knew where i was emotionallly didn’t feel good, and didn’t feel right, and it wasn’t going to get better by itself.  Um, i wasn’t going to start feeling better by myself.

So i texted Him.  NOT to tell Him his sub was losing her little mind, but just to let Him know what time we’re having dinner with my sister Saturday, and to ask about a friend of his who was having some health issues.

He didn’t text back right away.  i was ok with that ~ i figured i’d done something, which is better than doing nothing and quietly freaking out.  i was ok with waiting for a response.

When He answered, He was in Starbucks, and we started chatting.

It took about 5 minutes for most of my anxiety to fade away.

As that happened, my heart opened

and then, in a quick series of 3 or 4 texts, i let Him know, some of the anxiety that had been running through my mind.

A little baffled, He says, “But realistically, you know we were together 48 hours ago…” and when He puts it that way, well, yeah…

Actually, i know what happens though, how something can get distorted and blown up in my mind.  At least i think i do.  It works like this ~

Something happens ~ it could be anything ~ but whatever it is reminds me of some situation that ended with me getting hurt.  So it triggers anxiety ~ naturally.  i don’t want to get hurt again.  i want to protect myself.

So i pull back.

And that’s ok.  i pull back and try to figure out if the situation is the same or not.

That’s what we’re s’posed to do, i think.  At least at this point in a relationship, it is.  

But here’s where i can start to freak myself out.   If i’m not in good contact with the person who’s the other half of the relationship, i start to interpret that lack of close contact as a warning sign.  i pull back, and then the fact that i don’t feel as close to Him freaks me out.

Yeah.

Often, just having contact again solves the problem.  But i can reach a point where i won’t reach out.  Where i become convinced He doesn’t care about me.  Or doesn’t care anymore.  

Sometimes, that’s true.

Sometimes, it’s not.

So anyhow.  It feels a little crazy when it’s happening because it is so purely emotional mind, and i keep trying to pull myself back up on the shores of logic and reason.

Sometimes, i need a hand.

Last night, i told Sir some of what i’d been feeling because ~ you know ~ really ~

i come across as really mature and rational and well-balanced and calm.  

And mostly i really am that way.

So if i don’t show Him the underside, the shadow, that needy, anxious, scared me, then how is He supposed to know she exists?  Yeah.  He can’t.

And if He doesn’t know, He can’t help me with that part of myself.  He can’t pull me out of the depths of my own insecurity if He doesn’t know those deep riptides exist.

The way it played out this time was kind of ideal.  i dealt with my feelings ok for a while, and when it got bad, i managed to reach out in a reasonable way.   His response relieved me enough that then i could tell Him what i’d been feeling in a fairly rational way.

And now, i feel closer to Him than ever.  

Yep, this is how relationships grow.  How they unfold.  And yes.  He’s just right for me.

Smiling…

{Note:  i’m not criticizing myself when i talk about having been a little crazy and so on ~ feelings are irrational, that’s all i mean.  So it’s not a logical, reasonable head space to be in, and it feels a little out of control and crazy.  It really isn’t.}

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