Luck

If you go back to the time when I began writing in this  journal I talked a lot about love because I believe that, for me, it's the central emotion of my life; the driver.

I've had a few discussions with people of late that make it rather clear that some Dominants are possibly less concerned with feelings of love than they are with a sense of being admired and being obeyed. I take this on advisement.

Since in our 37 years together my husband and I have both spat out rather nasty sentiments to one another about the other and are still here to tell the tale, I continue to think that it is love that has ultimately sustained us.

Let me be clear. You don't live 37 years with a person putting them on a pedestal and pretending that they are something incredibly special. We are all human and we all make mistakes. I've made my share of mistakes or missteps and so has he. We've acknowledged them. We've driven on.

Now, what do I prefer? I prefer the state of play where he makes the running. I prefer the state of play where he dominates me as per his whim (and my need) and makes love to me on a regular basis. I prefer him to be engaged and I prefer the mindset wherein I think he's the best thing since sliced bread. Sometimes I do (think he's the best thing since sliced bread) and sometimes I don't. I think he'd have a similar feeling about me, if you asked him. Sometimes, he tells me, he thinks he's got God's gift to men and sometimes he'd happily trade me in. This is life. I accept it for what it is.

You'd not be a reader here of any length if you didn't understand that the past couple of years have been tough. I didn't become a submissive woman in the last shower. I've had this state of mind for a long time, even if it wasn't as overtly expressed as it has been of more recent times. You'd also not have read much of this journal if you didn't understand that I luxuriate in the submissive mindset and that most of all I want to feel owned.

It's hard to feel owned when your owner is completely immersed in various issues separate to you and outside of you. It's hard to feel owned if your owner doesn't claim you. Yes, 37 years later I need to be claimed. I need to know categorically and on a regular basis that I am owned.

The truth is that I almost came to have acceptance of the fact that my husband had changed for good. The love and commitment was still there on some level but there was a definite disconnect. I'd express in words and actions that I felt abandoned and that I thought he was depressed, but it seemed clear he was not available to me or to my words. I simply had to do the best I could on my own. I could feel myself going through the stages of grief, revisiting over and over the state of anger. How could this happen to us?

This morning he came to me early in the day whilst I was seeing the boys off for the day to say that he was coming to the market with me. We used to do this on Tuesdays, but several months ago he stopped making himself available for this and I simply went on doing the weekly ritual on my own. He was slightly bossy about this, encouraging me to get ready quickly.

After months and months of leaving me to my own devises 99% of the time, I was a little resistant. Nonetheless, we were on the road early and as we walked through the open-air market he was making his wise-cracks, threatening this and that and generally pushing me around in his own inimitable style. Yes, I was smiling (I'm that ridiculously happy to be dominated at the worse of times...) but I told him that he couldn't just start doing what he hadn't done for months and think I'd just pick up where we left off. He assured me I was wrong and somehow I sensed within myself some hope; some flickering of the man I once knew.

When we'd bought fish, meat, bread and cheese, we stopped off at our regular Italian cafe for morning tea and we didn't leave until well into the lunch hour. We talked and talked and talked.

There's no doubt that he felt threatened by the nasty men related to a business deal and no doubt also that he refused to be intimated by them or to allow them to entirely have their way. It took precedence over his existence and it sent our marriage into a tail spin. I understand his convictions and I understood that the dilemma had made him, quite literally, sick. And yet, I missed him and the aroused husband I once knew so badly that I simply couldn't endure it indefinitely.

Whilst it isn't exactly over, he made his final decisions in the past 24 hours and it appears that it is the relief of coming to those decisions (not perfect but perfect enough in his mind to be an acceptable outcome) that allows him to get up and fight back for his marriage; to reclaim that softly spoken, sweet and submissive woman he called his own.

The desire to be an owned girl is so great that it takes little more than him expressing his ownership for me to feel a great deal better than I have in a long time. I can't deny that admiration and obedience play a role here. I don't want to just love him. I want him to be my owner. I want him to claim me in any number of ways. I want to belong to him. I want that ownership to be overtly expressed.

I've nothing more to report than this experience today. I don't know what will happen tomorrow. My experience of life is that it does not go forth making straight lines. Alas, I am familiar with the roller coaster ride of life. Yet, I felt today that there was hope that the worst may be over.

In my younger days I spent many weeks in a hospital attached to tubes and when I left a very dear nurse said to me that I'd paid my dues. I'd had my share of bad luck with my health, she said, and wouldn't see the inside of a hospital again for a very long time. It turns out she was right.

Perhaps, my luck has turned again.