Busy, busy, busy and more busy.

I have been working late every night since the beginning of Decemeber, I worked all last weekend, and this weekend (much to the excitement of my kids) I’m bringing my entourage to work with me. Thank god we have a board room, TV and play station! Also, I will pack snacks. 

Today is the day we go and cut down the tree, I get to strap it down to the roof of the car myself, for a second year in a row (this time I want a picture!). There will be a tractor hay ride, hot chocolate and us running around in the trees trying to find the perfect one. It will be fun. Then home to trim and decorate it. 

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I love him. With everything I am. I can’t help it, I do. I just need to sort  out how to live with it, with being a secondary relationship in his life. He loves me. In his own way. He answered my question yesterday. Finally. After months. I am important to him, and I am special, I have my unique place (even if it isn’t as D/s as I would like) – he loves me. 

Talking with C last night (a wonderful friend) and discussing the ups/downs/sideways-ness of non traditional relationships (god, I hate labels sometimes) I have come to the conclusion that I want to see where this will go. I want to be his, on the sidelines of his life, a cheerleader, friend, confidant and lover. It isn’t exactly how I saw my life. The million dollar question is, if you can’t have exactly what you want to you throw out everything else? Is it settling? Today I don’t think so. Today I am riding high on a wave of goofy, romantic, sexy, dirty, soft, gentle, so-rough-it-leaves-marks feelings for him. 

Love is not finite. I always have enough to go around (my kids, my family, my friends). Love is not a guarantee. Love is something that needs attention and  commitment, but it should be the kind of work that is the most rewarding.   

I miss him everyday. I replay his hands on my body (god, has it really been since May?!), his smile, his kisses, his face just as he opens his eyes, and the way my face feels pressed against his chest. Like home. Like I belong there. 

I would rather have those moments, even few and far between, than be without him. I enjoy him, just as he is, a flawed, a well intentioned bastard, with maybe his Id having a little too much driving time. 

I’m making this shit up as I go – maybe this will be a first class fucking disaster.  Maybe I find my rhythm and I am the happiest I’ve even been* (*except for my monthly emotional curve balls[standard disclaimer]). But life is not happy all the time. That’s way too many meds, not living. Living is messy. And learning. And trying. And fighting. And getting back up. And loving. Even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts. 

Kinkyminx’s 14 days of Awesome will start soon…