Let’s Be Independent Together

Yeah, I know it’s 114 degrees outside and there’s no good reason why I’m remembering a line from a Christmas movie – but there it is. I’m weird like that.

My Love and I have been together over 37 years. I think it works because we still enjoy and crave our together time. We are independent people. My guy collects toy trains, he enjoys working on cars and cruising around the lake in whatever boat he’s just finished restoring. I have little interest in trains, but I go to the swap meets and help him rummage through the boxes. The only aspect I enjoy about cars is driving them – and extra-curriculars in the backseat, but I go to junk yards with him and help him find whatever widget he’s searching for this time. And I listen as he describes the variations and the small nuances that intrigue him. I know w-a-y more about cars and Lionel trains than I ever thought I would.

I’m sure you see where this is going. I don’t have to enjoy the same aspects of his hobbies as he does. I find enjoyment in watching his face light up when he finds something that makes him happy. I want to be the person he thinks of first when reaches out to share an experience.

By the same token, he has no interest in stained glass. He enjoys the final product, but he’s not one to stand at the work bench for hours on end cutting out tiny pieces of glass, surrounding them with lead and soldering them together. Oh, he has the talent and the patience – just not the interest. Yet, he goes with me to the glass shop and helps me pick out the glass. He feeds me snacks when I’m working with lead and really shouldn’t be messing with food. He goes clothing shopping with me and never complains about how long I take or all the multitude of packages he holds for me. He reads my books-each and every version until it’s just the way I want it. We bounces story lines back and forth and he helps me with scenes that frustrate the daylights out of me. He also my biggest cheerleader. When I’m ready to throw in the towel, he’s there to bolster my spirits.

I revel in knowing that I can be my own person. I can have interests separate from him, yet he’s willing to share them with me – in one capacity or another. We are independent together.

On and on we go…

It’s nothing new. Every time My Love has to go away for an extended period of time our D/s slows down. It’s never pure vanilla. I don’t think either one of us could go back to that, but the intensity backs way off.

I’m not sure if he has difficulty finding his Dom space when he knows he’s about to fly across the continent or if he worries about me suffering from sub-drop while he’s away.

Once he returns, he’s ready to dive right back in, but I struggle a bit. He’s in tune with me and understands. He still pushes, as is his right, yet it isn’t at the depth he’d probably prefer. One scene at a time, we build the power between us.

Two days after he’d walked back into my arms, we were nearly back on track. My emotions were settled and our scenes were heating up faster than an Arizona summer.

That night our pup, a nine year old Great Dane, took a bad turn. My Love drove him to the vet and we received the long face. He brought our baby boy back home and our attention is now centered on him. We need to make him comfortable and do what we can to hold off the inevitable.

Neither of us feels our normal drive. Our pets are more than pets. They’re part of our chosen family, that small group of beings we prefer to spend our time with – rather than those that share a strand or two of similar DNA.

It’s funny how the amazing sex portion of our D/s helps us deal with day to day stress, but when our heart is being ripped out it isn’t as helpful. I’m not saying we revert back to a vanilla couple. I’m not sure anything could do that. Instead it’s the emotional side of our D/s that brings us the most comfort.

I find a semblance of peace in serving My Love. Whether I serve him through seriously kinky sex or by keeping fresh, sun-tea chilled in the refrigerator, our familiar roles help us cope.

My Love is shouldering the responsibility even though it isn’t his fault. It’s no one’s fault, but someone he loves is in a bad way and he can’t fix it. He can’t change the inevitable. Yet, he isn’t giving up. He’s determined to give our pup as much time as possible. He’s been spending his vacation time coaxing our baby boy to eat, drink and take his meds. He gets up multiple times a night and takes him outside without a single word of complaint.

And in the process, My Love is stealing my broken heart. Watching his gentle care of our pup reminds me of why I offer him my love and my submission each and every day.

Together. As always. We will make it through this.

Missed it!

Life decided to rear its ugly head this weekend. Our well went on strike and stopped pumping water. As soon as we handled that crisis, our hot water tank died. On top of that mess, and I do mean mess, I got sick. For the last forty-eight hours, I’ve barely been out of bed and not for any fun reasons either 😦

As you can imagine, money has flown out of my pockets for all the repairs and the doctor visit, getting sick sucked, yet what I regretted most was I hadn’t been able to work on my story. I’ve never had a job that I didn’t enjoy time away from. It was a shocker to feel the need to write, to miss not sitting in front of the computer for hours and hours putting the story together.

It made me realize I was part of that very small minority that actually loved their job. How cool is that? I guess it was a good weekend after all.