“Love makes it harder. It complicates a relationship that

could be so simple. A man who loves his property must resign himself to knowing
that he will eventually hurt her feelings, break her heart, damage her in some
way, and he will have to pick up the pieces and build her again. A woman who
loves her owner must resign herself to knowing that his love for her will not
sway his judgment, afford her leniency, protect her from punishment. And they
both must trust that the other will hold to their side of the bargain
regardless of the love they share.” This incredible quote is from Rayne over at Insatiable Desire . Her blogs are absolutely, positively, something else. Something wonderful.

Anyhow…
I touched on the whole love and power exchange topic a week or so ago. (maybe two… or even three… I get so lost when it comes to that) At the time I couldn’t quite figure out where I wanted to go with it and I’m pretty sure the whole post was stinky because of it. Kaya has touched on it. So have a few others recently. I should probably just leave it alone.

And I’m still not sure where I want to go with it. But it’s there, gnawing at me in some weird way.

Because…
It’s hard.
Being so in love.

Five years ago I would have adamantly protested it making a wit of difference.

But, my gods, it does.

Being so in love with this man effects EVERYTHING.

Because I love him I’m jealous; unwilling to share, cripplingly terrified of not being “enough”.
Because he loves me he doesn’t push the issue; too worried about the irreparable harm it may cause to both me and our relationship.
Because I love him so much things hurt in ways that are not the least bit pleasurable. My feelings and sense of self worth are all tied up in this love we have for each other and some of the very things that turn me on the most, that most put me in that deeply submissive place, are the things that break my loving heart when he tries to do them.
The submissive and masochistic part of me wants a, b and c but the part of me that is in absolute romantic love with this man will sit there with her lip quivering because he’s not being nice and sweet and kind and loving, because he’s not acting like he’s all in loooooove.

Sometimes, we find the perfect balance. Sometimes he does just the right thing at just the right time and all sides of me are happy and satiated.

But, goddess, isn’t even that THOUGHT a little fucked up?

I mean, I HATE that he can’t do certain things because he loves me. Yet in the same damned breath I’ll cry about how if he loved me he wouldn’t do this or that or would do such and such to be nice.

That’s fucked up.

Things conflict, like vinegar and oil, not wanting to mix properly. Maybe, like that vinegar and oil, we just need to shake it all up a bit?

Maybe I just need to remember that love doesn’t equal getting everything I want, just how I want it. And somehow retrain my mind and heart, reprogram them or something, so I can stop feeling so conflicted half the time.

Ugh. I’m babbling. I can’t help it. My mind is racing and the thoughts won’t come together.

Ugh, ugh, ugh.
What do I want, damn it?

I want floggers and canes and clamps and leashes and collars and kneeling and crawling and corner time and a bed on the floor and other women worshiping his dick (ok, that’s a tough one. my head wants it. I know he wants it. but gods almighty it makes me want to vomit as much as it arouses me as a dark and awful fantasy), I want choking and hair pulling and power and control shoved down my throat, I want rules and boundaries and to live to please him. I want him to look at me like I’m this lovely and amusing object to be toyed with. I want to look at him like he’s a god…

But I want bubble baths and massages and the occasional foot rub, too. I want hugs and snuggles after sex and foreplay before. I want someone to run to the store for a candy bar when I have PMS instead of having to do it myself. I want him to touch my skin or my hair just because it’s soft. And I want him to look at me like I’m the most beautiful, precious, wonderful woman he’s ever known, with his eyes all soft and adoring.

Is it any wonder I feel conflicted by this love stuff?

And since when does what I want matter, anyhow? (Yes, yes, I know we should all get what we want and in a perfect balance we do. I know it can’t work if I get nothing I want. But that doesn’t mean I have to be so bloody focused on myself now, does it? If he never gives me anything than the relationship is shit and I leave. Except I can’t leave. Hmmm… good thing I actually do get what I need out of it, eh?)

Love.
It sure makes it hard to focus on just one aspect of the relationship, doesn’t it?

Let’s all remember to keep it shook up, like a grand vinaigrette on the finest salad ever made, shall we?

That’s got to be the only way it works.

Training. Vigilance. Surety of our places. And a good shake now and again.

~peace

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