hoosakitty

was sitting around missing my Sir, and began reading a recent note he sent me...how he considered me to be a "good girl", and everything that term meant to him. this is part of that note:



Good girls are intelligent and can be witty, they are interesting to talk with and like to smile and laugh. Their intelligence and wit allows them to be cheeky and, sometimes, to get away with it. Good girls are feminine because they like being women.
Good girls are ...

within you i lose myself…
without you i find myself
wanting to be lost again.

~unknown


Lost…what an appropriate term…i am so completely lost in you.

First, i lost my focus…ok, i could deal with that…wanting you every second was kind of exciting.

Next, i lost my heart…wow, didn’t expect that...wasn’t looking for it…how the hell did that happen ?

Then there went my mind…not so good that, i might need ...

Here is your wish…your bitter cup. The revenge is sweet on your tongue, i’m certain, but your heart will remain as cold as mine. It is something we share now…we are sisters in this detestable family, and through our blood courses lies. I will bear your joyless laughter… but you will not have the benefit of my tears…those are mine to be wept and spilled into the inner recesses of my soul, not to be wasted on painted cheeks that were caressed only this morning by deceitful lips.

Drink…sister…my ...

Are you aware of the power you possess? Can you fathom the strength of your hold on me? You have done what no other has ever had the ability to accomplish…to draw from me emotional submission…beyond any physical pleasure, past the point of need or the grasp of love…you own my every thought and desire…my soul is a ghost at your feet.

…And the ability is yours to destroy me with a word…then to heal me again with your next breath...

The self is sustained through pain and desire
~JTB

You are my desire…my daily walk is a journey that begins and ends with my need for you.
My submission is not that of a slave, but of a free woman, pressing my gift like a jewel into your hand.
I wear no collar except for the ring you have etched on my skin with your teeth.
I speak my mind, but your will decrees to my thoughts which course they should take.
You have only to speak my name, and ...

Insecurities. I can’t outrun them. They follow, like jackals yapping at my heels.

Am i good enough? Am i simply…enough?

I can feel the quiet insanity creeping back in, and i hate it. The safe, quiet contentment has worn thin and all that is left is a thin sheen, like sweat, on my skin. So many questions, so many doubts…unfounded? Perhaps…but lingering still.

I need your strength.

I’ve known from the beginning that i was yours. You knew it as well, but only in the back of your mind…in the dark corners where you refused to see it. Not that i think harshly of you for it…i too have denied the concreteness of our relationship…in those dark times of separation when the cold seeped in and i refused to see your face. How strange that those were the moments you saw my belonging so clearly!

And now, after so much time…we both see…we both admit the final truth. Not only ...

Contentment…

I can feel it searching for me…sending out its smoky tendrils of peace to tickle along my body…making its way across my skin, following the path your kisses made moments earlier, until it finds my lips. Resting there quietly…waiting…and i inhale…

Today, i will remain content…touched, loved…with dreams to ponder and hope to cling to.

I will not consider happiness…not yet. Contentment is my new treasure, and i will keep it close.
...

How could i possibly describe you? Comparable to a dusty bottle of scotch, strong and mellow…or, a sweet cigar whose smoke swirls and clings about my head. Or maybe a drug… pure, potent, driving through my veins, taking me to those dark and desperate places.

You are all these things

Powerful, addicting…enticingly dangerous…like standing in an open field during a summer storm....or sleeping in the woods without a fire, swallowed by the noisy dark

And here ...

Choice…i get it

Not the Choice to fall in love or to hate
Not the Choice to build or destroy trust
Not the Choice to be passionate or cold

…but the Choice that we made, so long ago
to become what we are, and to define the intricacies of our survival

Of all the things you’ve taught me, all the lessons learned and unlearned,
the condition of Choice is the one that has affected me deepest.
Choice has defined who i am, ...