To my Anam Cara

This is my first thread and rather than engulfing you with one of my philosophical rants (don't worry, you will no doubt get your fill of those,:4:) I thought it fitting to dedicate this one to my beloved husband.

This Saturday you see will mark our sixth wedding anniversary. Perhaps it doesn't sound like much, but for someone who has grown up surrounded by divorce as a common everyday occurrence and who has sworn to never merry at all – it is pretty amazing.

Ours was chemistry at first sight. The moment our eyes met, though I didn't have a name for it, I instinctively recognised what he was.
It was a tumultuous begging of a strong friendship with benefits, he became my Master and teacher. The most important thing he thought me was that it was all right for me to be who I am. He mended my broken heart, he soothed my temper and he made me enjoy myself. I never cowed before him, he liked that very much. He needed me as much as I needed him. I healed his soul, I made him smile, I was someone he could trust.

We both enjoyed what we had, but I never expected it would last - I never expected to fall in love. Then one day, lying in bed, he admitted he was afraid I would leave him. In turn I confessed my own abandonment fears. We made a pact that day – whatever happens we stay together.
Two weeks later he asked me to marry him, I said no. He kept asking until I said yes. It went against all my conviction to marry so young, but it felt right – I wanted him to be my companion in life.

I don't believe in having regrets, but it is human to sometimes wonder about "what ifs". This however is one decision I have never had any doubt that it was a right one. Outside things made it a bumpy road and sometimes, only half jokingly, I say that we have been to Hell and back – twice. However as a couple we have remained united. He was my strength and I was his.

Ironically when things finally fell into order and we have healed from our ordeals I gradually distanced myself from him. His new job meant that he was spending extensive amounts of time in US and I refused to move back.

We have shared a sort of intimacy like, I imagine, that of two solitary inhabitants of a desert island. An intimacy even more exacerbated by the D/s nature of our relationship. I needed to detach myself. I felt the need to enable myself to step back, to explore other avenues. During the last year we have spent very little time together. I consciously kept my distance, including having an affair (please no :old:, neither of us places much importance on sexual monogamy, we consider emotional commitment much more prevalent). We weren't separated but I felt like I was watching him from afar, out of the corner of my eye.

Recently we have taken a vacation together. It was an opportunity to re-establish our connection. We have debated so many times about where we were going to live and what course our relationship is going take that no one was unaware of what this trip was about.
I was prepared for the worst, and I think he was too. We have wiped clean the slate of our expectations and were ready to take whatever the other wanted to give.
As it turned out we just were. Together. It was a delicious, comforting feeling that comes from pure pleasure of being with each other.

He has always had a magnificent body and being so close to Him again, I couldn't but be moved by the pure aestheticism of his features. He wears his age (43) marvelously well. Apart from few lines around the eyes all the rest remains intact. The sheer size of Him, the length of His hair, the chiseled handsomeness of his face, the strength of his arms and legs - he is a living hymn to masculine beauty.
Sometimes I tease him that he must have a Dorian Grey-like painting hidden in the attic.

But the look in his eyes has changed profoundly. I remember them from when we have just met, wide open, dark green, an expansive gaze that encompassed everything. Eyes closed to the world, tough, perhaps a little arrogant, but at moments filled with a disturbing sadness that nothing could erase.

His eyes looked different now, sparkling and amused, the look in them stronger, self-assured, and I realised that was what I was running away from. I didn't want him to change. He was my one constant in life and I didn't want him to stop needing me as much as I needed him. But I want him to be happy.

Perhaps we both needed the time to learn to breath on our own and to let go of the past. It was as if I was now free to fall in love again with this new person. Relaxed, comfortable with his power, more aware of his strengths and weaknesses, but still reassuringly intense as ever in his adoration, in his commitment to us.
This is the man to whom I give everything I got. The man to whom I am offering a partnership that is effective, tender and respectful. He is superb because I allow him to be.

My secret pleasure is just watching him, studying him – as fascinated as the day we had met. I love watching the tranquillity of his face when he is resting, his movements when he is performing his katas, the angle of his brow and his eyes, the waves of his hair…

The most remarkable aspect of his dominance is the quality of his presence. This ability he has to fill a space. He literally radiates it. I think it's to do with absolute command he has of himself.
I like him that way, it turns me on, and something in me needs him to be that way. I cant help but be that way (submissive) with Him.

The things he does to me, the things he makes me do - often I love, usually I hate/love them, sometimes I just plain hate them. Always, I am safe with Him. Always, I trust Him.
(Note: by plain hate part I don't mean hardcore-never to be crossed-common sense limits (we agree on those and He wouldn't cross those anyway) but things out of my comfort zone, things I find hard to do.)
What I get from all this distress, paradoxically, is freedom. What I find in submitting - to his voice, to his hand – is myself.

Tenderness survives even in the middle of our most edgy sessions, tender gestures that become declarations of love – when he strokes my face, when he occasionally brushes my brow - always bestowed with a heart-rending gentleness, they become a balm for the pain I endure for him.

He has this surreal ability to internalise his feelings. But when he speaks his words serve to support the emotion, not to create it.
It doesn't matter if he is kissing me or caning me, whether he is reverently stroking my hair or holding me beneath him in order to sodomise me, the emotions he displays are those to which I cannot be indifferent.

After all this time He still gives me the butterflies by just standing close to me.


You know, my favorite analogy for marriage is that it is like a roller coaster. Sometimes its straight but more often than not it goes up and down, and I may get motion sickness, but I will hold on to Your hand as long as you hold on to mine. You are my Anam Cara.

Congratulations on 6 years. Thank you for your insights; they were beautifully written.

Best wishes on many, many more.

Wow!!! Grats on your 6 year !!! Glad to see your still in love and not just "going thru the motions"

This is about love and partnership. Your commitment to me is based on the surrender of self. But you are to be only submissive, not subservient. I am not a god to be worshiped and you should not appear to be a lamb being led to the slaughter. Personally submissive but equal in all else. One role doesn’t over shadows the other. You are mine. Mine alone. There is no life for either without the other.

Wow.

Ok, I know I will be paying for it later,:crop:
But, Demon Dom :tounge:

Thank you for your insight. Lovely written!