If you had asked me 6 months ago what I'd be doing this Christmas, my answer probably would have been something along the lines of hiding in my basement bedroom in my childhood home, where I'd moved back to after a devastating vanilla break-up. However, 5 months ago things changed and a beautiful, persistent, hilarious, brilliant, and dominant woman popped into my PM accidentally. So instead of the first answer, I spent this Christmas messaging back and forth with the woman I'll travel to see again (for a whole 5 days this time!!) on Monday night.
I tend to be a deep thinker so I often find myself wondering why on earth she chose me... I'm a hot mess. I temporarily live in my mother's basement. I can have crippling anxiety, get crabby for no good reason, have emotional walls built up that rival those of Jericho, simultaneously crave and reject control and authority, and tried desperately to push her away for her own good for far too long.
This Christmas she gave me some amazing gifts. The greatest of these gifts is that I get to be hers and that she is mine. The collar I wear around my neck is a daily gift, a reminder that I exist for a greater purpose. The confidence she inspires in me, the natural submission she brings out in me, the opportunity to be both boi and girlfriend, the gift of hope for the future.
I was expecting lumps of coal in my stocking this year, and instead I woke up Christmas morning to a gift I get to unwrap everyday- her love for me and mine for her.
