A week ago, I fucked up. Big time. HUGE. MEGA HUGE. Ok, maybe not that huge, I mean I didn't break any laws, commandments, or do anything nefarious. I did however go into full blown bitch mode with The Boss.
It wasn't until after the words had been spoken that I realized what I'd done. In my own defense, I interpreted something the wrong way, but in my already over emotional, over worked state I took that misinterpretation and swung into defensive postulating rather than just ask what he meant.
So being me, and true to form, I beat myself up. In our time together, this is the first argument we've had, and it really wasn't so much of an argument as we both got pissed off at the other. Light a fuse watch it blow and then deal with the aftermath. Anyway, once I realized what I'd done, I envisioned the punishment for said actions would not be something I would breeze right through.
After 24 hours, we spoke and he changed his mind on my visit. I would come up so we could discuss what happened the previous day and move past it.
I brought the little man up with me as planned. I need to ensure he has some testosterone time, poor kid surrounded by estrogen all the time. After the boy went to bed, I knew we were going to 'have the discussion' whether that meant physical punishment too, I didn't know, but knew I deserved whatever was on the plate.
We ended up discussing, and as much as I tried to clam up and withdraw- he wouldn't let me. I was open and honest about what I was feeling, how I felt about my fuck up, but it was hard getting the words out in between fighting back the sobs, and covertly wiping away the tears.
I couldn't hide though, he wouldn't let me. He made me look at him when all I wanted to do was turn my back and wallow in my own angst. I had not only disappointed him, but pissed him off- and all because I flew off the handle and reacted like a manipulating shrew. Something I've never done, cared to do, wanted to do, intended to do with him. Previous so called D's - fuck yeah, I manipulated my way right to the top of that pile of whatever it was called. With him... no, never, niet, yeah, so much for that idea.
He reached inside of me and cradled my emotions (and me) in his arms while I had my meltdown. I didn't opt for tears, I hate tears for the most part. No, scratch that, I hate them period. Even though I know that sometimes it's good to cry, it just takes an awful lot to get me there.
So I learned more about him during that little experience. Not that I will try to repeat it, second offense will not be pretty- I've been forewarned. I didn't think it was possible to love or trust him any more than I already do, but it is. I don't think that it's necessarily more- just deeper and even more meaningful.
A year ago yesterday he showed me a photo of the collar that I inspired. He set out that day intending to make something else, but felt compelled to make my leather collar. I looked for that exchange the very same day we had the argument, taking the scroll down memory lane always makes me emotional, so I'm sure that didn't help matters any, but that's not where I was going with that.
It will be a year Sunday that he first placed it on my neck. Now we hadn't talked about "being collared" specifically at that time. We'd had conversations about a collar, what it meant personally to each of us, the implication of the significance. We were both on the same page, or within a page or two of each other's views.
When the first D collared me, I took the collar on and off as applicable, not figuratively, just literally. As we were 2k miles apart, and seeing each other every 6 weeks, and he liked to see me on cam chatting wearing said collar, it would be appropriate for me to put on/take off. But even when we were together, I would put on/take off as needed.
So when I had Jefe's collar on that first weekend, and someone knocked on the door, my hands immediately flew up to the collar and I removed it.
After the company left, he secured the collar back around my neck, pulled the d-ring so our noses were scant centimeters apart, and informed me that I was never to take on/off again.
I haven't. That's his job... I present said collar to him or said neck if I need to take a shower. I like that comfort in knowing he secures it, I'm not sure why, it's symbolism, but I haven't quite figured out why it tickles my fancy or why I take such comfort in it. I wasn't wearing my collar the night of the discussion, and we were in bed having said discussion and by the time he was done with me I was too spent to get up and get it, but I felt naked sleeping without it. The next night he called it out. He wanted it there. Plain and simple.
Sometimes when I'm driving myself to the brink of insanity, wondering how we're ever going to get through this distance and time line thing, I sit and remember these little things.
His words from a few weeks back ring in my ears "I don't think either one of us expected things to go this deep"
Which considering how closed mouth he is about anything dealing with emotions, was a lot for him to admit.
He shows his emotions, he just doesn't talk about them. He's a touchy-feely kind of guy, just don't ask him to talk about it LOL.
It's the little things that keep you going sometimes.
Even something like fucking up has it's benefits.
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