The tender little thumb stroke on the cheek is everything to me.
touch
“It’s hard to communicate anything exactly and that’s why perfect relationships between people are difficult to find.” ― Gustave Flaubert, Sentimental Education.
“There’s an intimacy in listening to somebody’s lies, I’ve always thought—you learn more about someone from the things they wish were true than from the things that actually are.” ― Jennifer duBois, A Partial History of Lost Causes.
“It seemed important to convey that I understood. Isn’t that what intimacy so often is? Supposing you understand, conveying that you do, because you feel in theory that you could understand, and you want to, and yet secretly you don’t?” — Rachel Kushner, The Flamethrowers
I haven’t been totally, genuinely scared in quite a while. When it comes to play, I’m really into fear. I’m into that rush of emotion, that checking of trust, the way the elevated heart rate and squirminess of panic feels a whole lot like arousal. It’s why I love knives. It’s why I love the deep and casual invasiveness of medical play. I just really, really like the space of being terrified.
I know I am behind on posting about just about everything but here’s a gif that reminds me of the person I’m seeing tomorrow and I am so excited to see him that it’s literally making it impossible to sleep.
So, Sir says he loves Daisy Dukes but these are essentially underwear.
Filed under: The kind of stuff Sir and I talk about a lot.
I love when he takes me by surprise and calls me “little one.”
I miss going to bed beside Sir. I’m able to push my anxiety aside and fall asleep pretty quickly. When I’m alone, I lay awake turning over everything in my head – work, school, anything I could possibly worry about. When he’s here or I’m there, I’m out like a light.
I just texted him to say that I was snuggling with the stuffie he gave me and trying to sleep.
“He’s my deputy,” Sir replied.
It’s such a cute notion, I just had to share.