Forever and Always, cont.

This is a fictional story continued from last week's post.
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My forehead is pressed against the hallway corner and my ass is still warm from the spanking you gave me a few minutes ago. You told me that you never stopped loving me. I do believe you, but I can't help wondering how you could put me through so much heartache. I was in so much emotional pain when I thought you had been taken away from me. It scares me still to know that you could do something without thinking of the possible consequences and not come home...not come back to me. Why? There’s just no way it could have been worth it to you. I don’t want to go through that again. I want to move passed it and I’m working on it, but you are going to have to help me. I can’t do it alone.

I know why I’m tired a lot and I know why I don’t want to do the things I used to...because you are right - I am afraid. I’m afraid of caring too much and afraid of losing you. I’m afraid of getting hurt - my heart was broken and I’m not back to normal, yet. I still get anxious, angry, and depressed at times.

In hindsight, I stopped doing my normal things (like video games, darts, blogging, etc.) because in my mind they just aren’t worth my time when I could be in your arms where I can still feel protected and like you aren’t going anywhere. That’s where I feel safe. I’m not ready to do other things yet. We are moving slowly and I need that right now. I just wish I knew how to tell you all of this so that you’d understand where I’m coming from, because I’ve never stopped loving you either.

Those moments where I can’t look at you...aren’t because I don’t love you or have stopped loving you or have given up. I can’t look at you because of me...because I truly believe that I am not worth the trouble. My heart, mind, and soul are so fragile right now...why would anyone bother, why would anyone want to take care of, to love, to cherish, to protect me? It’s too much hassle, too much work, too much to ask. So, I look down and cry….broken, weak, and worthless….so much for that strong, independent young woman.

I have no doubt that I will be that person again...maybe not as young and maybe a little stronger, but I do know that it’s going to take time.

You once compared addiction to something like cancer. You asked, “If I got cancer, does that mean you’d stop loving me?” The answer is no. I would still love you if you had cancer. Just like I still love you today. I believe we will get through today for a better tomorrow, but I ask you the same thing...only I’ll compare being broken and afraid to being really sick. Would you leave my bedside and stop loving me?

You often ask me what's wrong and want me to talk to you, but I don't want to sound like I'm always nagging and complaining. I don't want you to get defensive. I don't want you to think that you’re not doing anything right. I see you trying and I even see you adjusting. The things that I don't like or would like to change are things that would ultimately protect you, protect us from things that could go wrong and be out of our control. You don't think we can control others...you’re right, but we can control enough of what we say and do to make a difference.

I don't want to look back with regret and say, “That's the day I lost you,” I want to look back with pride and say, “That's the day we found us again. That's when we put ourselves and our relationship on the top of our priority list.”

I guess the answer to your question of, “Why have you stopped…?” is so much more than, “I just don't feel like it, I don't know, or I'm afraid.”

So, how do I explain this to you? Maybe I need to do something I used to do...I’ll type up a blog entry, then you'll read it and we’ll talk about it.

From the corner, I call out, "Honey?"

"Yes, Love?"

"May I go publish a blog post? I think it'll help me gather my thoughts."

After a pause, "Yes, you may, but I better not catch you reading other stories."

"Yes, Sir."

As I turn around to head to the computer desk and start to pass our bedroom door, you arrive with our new leather paddle in hand. "Before you go, why don't you bend over so I can make sure you're sitting on a freshly warmed behind while you type."

Yikes! I bend over with my hands on my knees and he places his hand on my lower back.

He delivers nine solid whacks. Then, he sends me on my way with a kiss.

The cool leather computer chair is actually quite soothing while I start putting together my thoughts.

...to be continued.

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Wow, this story that I’ve created with it’s made up corner time actually worked very well for figuring out how to share what I'm feeling.