I Am Exhausted

Good evening, Sir.

I am exhausted. Yesterday, and the weeks leading up to it, have been so draining. I have so little left. But I am yours.

The echoes of worthlessness, selfishness, stupidity resound in my whole self. I do not feel that way, but I remember the feeling so vividly, I react as though it was real. It was real. My reality was so dark, so very small, for so long. I continued to function, going about my day, fulfilling my responsibilities, giving until there was nothing left. I was lost, barely existing.

I know I have changed, though I don't really know how. If you asked me, I couldn't tell you who I was then. I was incomplete, fractured beyond recognition. I only know I have changed because where there was nothing, there is now something. I barely know myself, but I know I'm there to be known.

Today I feel empty. Emotions, actions, thoughts, flitting through me, rather than coming from me, like a breeze through an open window. I am comfortable with the hollowness. The echoes have quieted and I'm at peace. But sometimes the tears come up unexpected. I don't feel like I'm crying. The heat in my face and tension in my throat register before I even notice the tears. The thought, the memory that prompted them has already floated on, and I have no explanation for my emotion.

I am broken, empty, but I am yours, Sir. Your acceptance of my fractured self has helped me heal like nothing else I've ever experienced.

I love you, Sir.

Control Freak

Good afternoon, Sir.

This week, I've been re-remembering how much of a control freak I can be. I'm coming up on a year since I left my ex. I'm not usually big on anniversaries, but sometimes they just imprint on your psyche. Memories have just been popping up this week, good and bad. Both make me cry. I'm ok. But this is a milestone. And I'm feeling it.

I've told you alot about what happened. What you may have figured out by now is how it changed me. A few months ago when I was brand new to BDSM, I had limits in place, like no knives, that were a direct result of this. Those aren't hard limits for me anymore. At least not with you. I trust you enough to make almost no legal actions really off limits. Except poop stuff. That's yucky. Don't do that.

The thing I'm realizing is how I play these little games with you, to try to feel more in control. Like last night, you pulled my head down on you, and I made some excuse about my cough. It didn't aggravate my cough. I even kinda liked it. But I asked you not to, knowing you'd show your love by honoring my request. Something immediately felt wrong. And I think it's because I made that request not for my physical comfort, but my emotional comfort. I needed the reassurance that I was still in control.

I wish I could simply submit to you. I wish any of this was simple. But I'm complicated. I can be alot to deal with, I know. I'm working on giving you more, trusting you more. But it's really hard for me. I'm sorry for when my issues get in the way of your happiness. And I'm so grateful for your love and patience.

I love you, Sir.

Trust and Control

Good morning, Sir.

I wanted to write a little about trust and control. I'm a worst case scenario person. I don't mean to be. I just am. When I'm in a situation, I plan what I'd do if there was an emergency. Even as you were tying me, I wondered what you'd do if there was, say, a fire. How would you react? How would you keep me safe? In the back of my mind, there's always a plan. When I can't help myself, I'm counting on you. Especially when I can't help myself because if something you've done, like tie my hands behind my back.

I know it's silly, but I felt like you got flustered by everything, the people coming to see the apartment, the pizza guy. And it made me feel like maybe you wouldn't be able to take care of me if there was an emergency. I know, it was a pizza. But anger usually masks something else. For me, it's often fear. I get scared when I can't protect myself. I count on you. I trust you, Sir. But I also know you're a human, you can't handle everything (but I can, apparently. My brain is weird). I'm working on it.

I love you, Sir.