i want to call Him and be crabby, petulant and snarly. Instead i write here and keep my mind busy with a game.
i want to avoid contact with Him and refuse to met His eyes. Instead i will look directly at Him and say “welcome Home” without adding “motherfucker” to the end.
i want to fight with Him, tangle with Him, to have my anger boil over. Instead, i will kneel at His feet and squeeze my eyes shut tight.
i want to accuse Him of many shallow things that aren’t true because i am hurt and can’t shed it. Instead, i will hold my tongue from falling out of my stupid head and learn restraint.
i want to give up on being His slave tonight and just pretend that my life doesn’t have to be this hard. Instead i will hope like fuck He knows what He is doing and swallow that bitter pill when i don’t get my way.
If i could wish for anything, it would be to find a way past this goddamn brick wall standing right in fucking front of me. i mean, two fucking weeks left and i still cannot let go. What is it that hurts me so about this situation? For a person who can never shut up and can often think of at least two synonyms for many words, why can’t i explain it to Him in a fashion that He will understand?
So instead, i will sit here, waiting for Him to come home. i will be quiet, i will be pensive, i will be timid because i can’t be what my brain screams for. i will swallow my gall, bear the burning stain of my misery and try to remember to breathe. As a slave, that’s all i really can do.
alwayshistora 