hand in dip

The Beach Boys are playing ‘God Only Knows, as I type this in front of a fire that I hefted the coal for into my car boot at the garage as He got soaked to the skin putting air in my sodden tyres to keep me safe.  In this cosy setting we paint us on a canvas bought for another purpose.  We paint over the existing brush strokes with our conversations, moving from twitter to plans, to work, to people we know, with ease and interest.  We lighten the shadows, highlight an obscured point of interest, deepen the darkest places until they glow again.  Sometimes we just hug on His worn brown leather sofa.  My hand resting on His chest, whilst his plays with my hair and strokes my arm.  It never fails to amaze me how comfortable I find our being together regardless of where or when it is.

Next year will be the seventh year since we met.  At first it was just a conversation that seemed not to have an ending but became more and more engaging as it went on.  I hadn’t met anyone like Him before in my life.  He seemed so assured but not arrogant,  able to listen but sure of what He thought, and I found Him completely fascinating.  He heightened and encouraged my creativity, I began to write and to take photographs. Initially to please Him and then more and more to please myself.  I discovered a new way to connect sexually, one I was able to be fully immersed in.  One in which my pleasure was His pleasure and His mine in a circle of joyous, filthy, inventive coupling.

It was an illicit relationship to begin with.  I was married, my husband did not consent to it or know about it but he felt the repercussions as my fascination grew.   Some people call this New Relationship Energy and there are many discussions about how to manage this in ethical polyamorous situations.  I did none of this.  I had no sense of how to do this properly, but I knew I had to do it with every newly awoken part of me.

When we finally met it was as though I had come home.  Not in the way I was used to where home was uncomfortable and uncertain but in a new old way that connected so deeply within me that I could not deny its power or importance.

Nor did I want to.

I wanted finally, to tell the truth to someone who cared about me, to really show them the me that was shrouded in shame and guilt and have them accept her wholeheartedly.  To receive the unconditional acceptance that I had offered and not had reciprocated until that moment.

We didn’t call it love.  I have written before about the words we did not speak, but, what was, in hindsight, our final meeting in a hotel room purely as Master and eye, I saw love in His eyes.  He bent over me, hurting me with full eye contact as I had asked, having been used to a more careless hurt, and I saw love there.  This new me, forged in the freedom of submission could acknowledge that without the usual parade of thought about what it meant, either for the future or  for there and then.

eye could see it, accept it and bathe in its warmth.  I found that I could then access it later to provide me with the courage and strength to leave my marriage and begin the process of building my life again.

So now, right here, right now, we are making plans for the coming year.  One in which us moves ever closer to a future neither of us thought we would plan six years ago.  One in which we both share a desire for more of us.  This came slowly.  We had a year where we only met twice.  There were times during that year when I wondered if our relationship meant to Him what it meant to me.  I wondered if He harboured the same desire for more that I felt and to be truthful I think that it almost had to sneak up behind Him as He had built some strong defences around Himself.  But that’s His story and not mine and one for another time.

I knew I was all in though, and my newly unlocked self seemed able to hold both the reality of where we were (and where we weren’t) without the need to push or pull it to where I wanted it to be.  I let it be what it was.

Like in any story there was a pivot point.  I remember it clearly.  I drove across a field at dusk to meet Him.  He sat outside the tent at a table, two chairs, two glasses of gin and tonic with ice and lime, and within a nest created with such care and love that it brought tears to my eyes.  As the evening mist rolled in we raised a toast to us and the more moments like this one.   Tonight in front of a roaring fire we will do the same because we both want more and now we want each other to know that with complete certainty.

F4Thought
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