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Roses are red, Bruises are blue

My journey of love and depravity.
4 years ago. July 30, 2019 at 1:54 AM

Sir and I are blessed to be able to see each other every weekend despite our approximate 700 miles of separation. The downside of this weekly schedule is saying goodbye every single week. It’s not just the “oh my God I’ll miss you so much” kind of hard, it’s the psychological havoc that it brings about.

 

Being in a monogamous 24/7 D/s relationship (a combination of M/s and DDlg dynamics) brings a connection so profound that when we’re physically together it becomes a life-force. He is my sole focus. He is the center of everything. He speaks, I listen. He asks, I answer. He orders, I do. He leads, I follow. I live and breathe him. My eyes always seeking him out, my body instinctively drawing nearer to him. I get to live in my euphoric submissive bubble for 48 hours; no decisions of my own, no want or need going unfulfilled, no loneliness or lack of purpose, no worries or stress. I am just blissfully his. Owned, pampered, used, adored, hurt and healed.

 

Then Sunday night comes and it’s time to say goodbye, time to venture out into the great big scary world all alone for 5 days where I'll have to make some of my own choices, make sure my own needs are met, remember things on my own, go places by myself... It requires me to meticulously and painstakingly adjust an internal dial an exact degree. To turn off the little, turn off the slave, but somehow still maintain the submissive. Sever the life-force but still remain connected. It becomes increasingly more difficult each time. Each time we say goodbye I fear the plausible reality in which I scream and cry and bang on his chest, fall to my knees and cling to his leg only to be removed by physical force, or worst of all the possibility that rather than turn the dial, I decide to flick the switch completely and just turn it all off. When that last scenario plays out in my head; its both a nightmare and occasionally a guilty longing. It would be a lie to say that the temptation to turn it off, to feel nothing, doesn’t sometimes have its allure.

 

So each week as the feelings of loneliness and painful longing, confusion and fear, begin to rise up as my Owner regretfully walks away and I struggle with the dial, I ask myself ‘Is it worth it?’ and every single week the answer is a resounding yes. Always yes. The struggle to find a balance, the sacrifice of time, the lonely nights, the hard choices, the grown-up responsibility, the obsessive worry, and the undesired independence are worth it. They’re the price of maintaining a long-distance D/s relationship. They’re the price for choosing us, for choosing to be his. And there isn’t a price I wouldn’t pay to be his.

 

=^.^=


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