okay so i’m tired, my head hurts again, my back is hurting and needs to be rubbed but guess what? i’m happy. well i’m slightly upset with myself. i’m watching sex and the city again. i detested the concept of this show when it originally aired but after being bombarded with questions and comments from friends, and out of sheer boredom, i took a sex and the city which character are you quiz. and horror of horrors i was carrie. why horror you may ask? well honestly because i didn’t need anything reinforcing my aversion to love and romance and happily ever after. the fiercely independent woman in me who was used to serial monogamy was slighted that i was no longer unique but destined to love one emotionally unavailable man after another till i found my big. the ultimate in unattainable man that i’d never be able to shake from my system. so i ponder my love life and there was my version of big (so i thought:) marcus. arrogant, sexy, wonderful kisser, beyond talented in bed, orally gifted and happy to explore and my one addiction for the beter part of a decade. i was distraught when he got married and thought i’d just have to pine after him forever. thankfully that wasn’t the case, i met Emperor but it leaves me wondering something new again.
do i just fall in love when it’s clear they are difficult SOBs, after they are no longer available because they are with someone new or after my patience has worn thin so i can’t maintain the facade of a relationship? am i still transferring missing my daddy as a child to the eventual abandonment i think i’ll experience in my relationships? am i really just like all the other girls and fragile/sugary and looking for that man, big as it were, to come and make me his own? oh that depressed the hell out of me at the time but i had to be honest. i have a tendency to let the emotions fester until the absolute wrong time or until he’s moved on so far down the road i’m really just giving them the synopsis on why it didn’t work out. i couldn’t justify my plans with potentially deeply held desire to be “daddy’s little girl” to some nice grown man.
then i met Him, my Emperor, maybe my big. i’d happily be His little girl all full of sugar and spice and everything nice. well nice enough because let’s be real me in a corset and 3 inch heels would make some naughty things happen i swear. last night in a rare turn for me i told Him the truth while it still might actually do some good. i told Him that i care about Him and want to make Him happy. that i struggle with letting Him have His space and my need to feel His hand in my life. and that as much as i respected His domain and plans for us that it pained me to think that i’d have to share His affections with anyone. as usual i completely surprised my belusted (yes i made that up, we aren’t in love so He can’t be my beloved) but this time i was happy after the conversation. i made Him blush, He was happy with His pet and i was happy being His darling girl. so maybe this is what little girls are made of? warm fuzzies that when properly held will make both she and her lover immensely happy. who knows? but i can’t wait to find out.