Once upon a time I was someone much different than who I am today. I had a career and I was somewhat important in a way that was much bigger than the small world I had built for myself. My days consisted of hard work and my nights consisted of hard play. My creativity was at an all time high and I didn’t hesitate to take care of myself.

I scheduled regular hair appointments. My nails were always manicured. I cooked meals that I wanted to cook, without thought to who wouldn’t eat it. After all, my girls were enough like me that they would try almost anything you put in front of them. I had no one to answer to, no one to think about, except for the three of us. Just the three of us.

On the rare occasions that I found myself without my work pager and cell phone, without my beautiful little girls, I would be the woman I imagined myself being. I would make lunch dates with friends, coffee dates with co-workers, and real dates with men that I knew I would never seriously commit to. I would indulge in expensive perfumes and new lingerie just because I could. I’d issue invitations for small parties at my apartment, the one I fell in love with right away, and I would serve creative drinks and foods that I saw on the Food Network.

I was courted and wooed. If they didn’t bring me flowers, they sent them. I wore cocktail dresses and got to know more than my fair share of men who knew how to treat a woman. I was desired, wanted like I’d never been wanted before. Even with my rounded tummy, my large derrière, and my ample assets, I was wanted.

Something miraculous happened in that time on my own. Something so profound that it changed my life forever…

I began to genuinely like myself. I was proud of the life that I had made for myself and for my little girls. My self-esteem was at an all-time high and it showed in everything I said and did. Suddenly I believed that I really would be alright, despite the past, despite the incredibly poor decisions that I’d made.

That was then and this is now.

I can’t name a single thing about myself that I like. My career is no more, gone before the cancer and the exhaustion. I walked away from my nursing degree, away from my friends, and away from all the things that brought me so much joy and satisfaction. And for what?

For a man who goes for days without touching me. For a man who really isn’t at all the way he presented himself to be. For a man who isn’t as selfish as he once was, but is selfish just the same. For a man who isn’t the man I fell in love with, who isn’t the man I thought I wanted to marry.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. Everything is wrong. Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe the fault is mine, for being fat and sick, and an “attention sponge” that wants nothing more than to please him; who will stop at nothing to please him and earn his approval.

I’m tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m tired of the second guessing, of being held at arms length. I’m tired of the dance, of the back and forth. Tired of the lack of passion and affection. His malfunctions are not mine. I say the words, but I can’t convince myself of it. I’m tired of trying, tired of faking patience that I do not have.

People tell me to give it time. They say that this is hard on everyone, just give it time. Time isn’t a luxury that I have. Waiting, sitting idly by, isn’t something that I can afford to do.

I feel hurt. I feel angry. I feel betrayed.

I’m tired of playing the fool.

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Though it’s been a while, I’ve decided to add more short stories and bits of erotica to this blog. I’m working on a few submissions for anthologies so I won’t be posting those, but others will suffice. My inspiration was gone for a bit, but I believe it’s been found once more.

I’ve also started researching some podcasting options and experimenting with some software. I don’t like the sound of my voice, but The Knight insists that it would be the perfect addition to my site. (Though I wonder how he’d know, considering the fact that he doesn’t ever visit here anymore.) What do you think? Anyone interested in a podcast or two?

Real life is getting in the way again. We had plans that would have allowed us some down time, but it isn’t going to happen. So, we’re back to square one. I don’t know the specifics of how it’s all going to work, but I’m sure we’ll figure something out.

For a brief moment I thought that things were going my way. I was going to have extra time to rest, to heal and fight and The Knight and I were going to have some much needed alone time. I guess the tide has turned, but not in my favor. Not in our favor. I guess that’s the way the cookie crumbles, but if I know that, why can’t I deal with it? Why does it bother me so?

My littlest girl turned seven yesterday. Though we didn’t get to have her with us to celebrate, we have quite the belated birthday celebration planned when she returns. I miss The Girls like crazy, but knowing that they know how much I love them makes it a little easier.

Well, I guess that’s that. As the world turns, so does the tide. (But to make it a little easier, one of my favorite songs for your listening pleasure.)

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Ok, so this is going to make me sound like a complete idiot, but really, I’m not. I swear it. I’ve practically aced the SAT’s, the ACT’s, and I’ve even saved more than a few lives. See, I’m not an idiot! I’m just freakin’ clueless when it comes to this whole web site/blog thing.

I would like to set up a few subdomains but I don’t know how. On one of those subdomains I would like to open up a forum/discussion board kind of thing, but again- I don’t know how. Granted, I managed to do this one with some help from my soul sister Nina, but come on…she has a life. And I am so not in the mood to bother her. (Though I know she would help me in a second, no questions asked.) She is the only one I have trusted to handle the changes for me since I’ve been sick.

The problem with doing it myself? I’m clueless. I used to know how to upload via the FTP tool. I even knew how to install plug-ins and have them work (though the one I installed to help embed videos isn’t working for some reason…) properly. So why the change?

They call it chemo brain. Basically, you lose your mind. You forget how to do certain things or you find yourself unable to form sentences. Oh yeah. This is a glorious feeling, let me tell ya. I feel like a complete idiot even though I know that I’m not- at least not completely.

So, anyone up to the challenge? I can’t pay you. I don’t even have anything that I can offer you in exchange for your assistance. Some deal you’re getting, right? Fair enough. You’re right. I’m crazy and probably more than a little frustrating. I’ll be quiet now.

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Sometimes we’re so on that it astounds me. We finish one anothers sentences, we want the same food for dinner, and we can think of nothing better than just being together. Cast aside are the insecurities and the attempts to hide my wobbly bits. In their places are actions that speak louder than words; a glance over my shoulder as he is about to slide into my ass, laying my body against his without worrying that I’ll hurt him.

We’ll spend the evenings laughing, teasing one another mercilessly; a backrub here and an intimate tongue kiss there. We’ll sleep a little and love a little, taking turns waking one another with a kiss. It’s in those shared moments that I am the most certain of my place in his life and in his heart. The knowledge alone is enough to get me through some of the toughest and most self-esteem destroyinh moments.

Over the weekend I awoke from a dream about my Knight. Without hesitation my head was buried beneath the comforter and my mouth had captured his cock. This isn’t an odd occurrence; not by a long shot. It’s the norm and it’s something that I enjoy immensely. Still, there are times that blowing him blows my mind.

As I held his sac firmly in my hand I took the length of him all the way down my throat. He moans his approval and thrusts his hips forward. It is in that moment that I know he was as ready for me as I was for him. He exploded in my mouth and I swallowed every last drop. Nothing rare, but exquisite nonetheless.

There is something life affirming about making love with The Knight. On the days when I feel the lowest, it lifts me up. On the days when I’m certain that I can’t go on, just having his arms around me gives me the strength I need to go on. It’s more than the physical. It’s more than the emotional. It’s spiritual.

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I’d like to call your attention to the links in my sidebar. Some of them are new, recently discovered by chance and friends recommendations. Others are new that I actively searched for and found to be of interest. The old links are still there because I still visit. If I don’t visit, I don’t link!! I know that sounds harsh, but that’s the way it is.

My links will not be to everyone’s taste. I like women with curves, with ample breasts, bottoms, and tummies so I link to sites of women who fit that description. There are men out there who also find women like me attractive, those women who have voluptuous figures, so I link to their blogs and sites. I also like people who can write, regardless of their physical attributes, gender, or sexual orientation, so I link to them as well. If it’s not your thing, so be it. I don’t have the time or the energy to justify my decision to link to those sites, so just pass them by and find something else that *is* to your liking.

If I have you linked in my sidebar and you would prefer not to be, please email me and I will remove your link. I did have one such blog recently and though I was less than thrilled about his attitude towards my site, I delinked him as he requested. Those who are not mature enough or open minded enough to appreciate the things that can be found here, it is their loss and I wish them no ill will.

I am fortunate enough to be linked to many wonderful sites, sites that offer more than I ever could. I have made wonderful connections and forged friendships that have staying power. In this cold and harsh world, in cyberia, a little love goes a long way even if it is in the form of a few well-placed links.

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The tiniest bit of faith and you find yourself out on the proverbial ledge. One whispered prayer and the intelligence to know that it won’t hurt as bad if you can’t see what’s coming, and you do it. You give in and let love take over. You let go of the things that have given you a false sense of security in order to grab on to the ones that actually keep you safe and whole.

Yesterday I started radiation. During my last scan they noticed a spot about the size of two pencil erasers just left of the brain stem. Normally they wouldn’t have done another scan but I was honest about the head aches, the dizziness, the blurred vision, and the increasingly annoying fluxuations of temperature. According to the doctor, different places cropping up is completely “normal” and nothing to worry about. Along with this they have also done an EEG to get a better idea of what effects the tumor was having, if any. I should know something by the end of this week, provided they don’t have a host of them to interpret.

The combination of the chemo and the radiation has left me more out of sorts than usual. I slept a lot yesterday and again today. The pain is different, more like a dull ache, so I can tolerate it well enough. I’m hoping that the decrease in energy means that something is working, that perhaps the combination of faith and science is enough to produce the miracle I’ve been hoping for.

What does all of this have to do with the beginning of this post?

I don’t have the energy to take on a million different things. Even if I did, some things just aren’t worth the energy. So very little is within our control and to try to do so simply leaves us feeling battered and bruised, maybe even hopeless. I don’t know about you, but I don’t do hopeless.

It’s hard to let go. Of the past, of the tension, of the things that we’ve foolishly believed were keeping us safe. None of it keeps me safe. After the fallout a couple of weeks ago I’ve been trying very hard to take responsibility for my part in it, for the things that I may or may not have done that helped to lead The Knight and I to that place. Finally I realized that I wasn’t really doing that. I was simply second guessing everything he had said and done.

So I let go. I cried for a few hours and struggled with it until I could struggle no more. I simply sighed, took a hot shower, and crawled into our bed. An amazing thing happened-

We spent the day sleeping, touching and whispering all the things in our hearts. When we finally made our way to the bathroom to shower together, the difference was as clear as could be. More than once I’ve caught myself starting to analyze and internalize, but I’ve stopped and just let go. Instead of the things that scare me and allow me to mistakenly believe that I’m in control, I hold tight to my Knight and to all that I know is true, I cling to the love we share.

I like what we’re becoming. I like the easy way we laugh together, the way our limbs tangle beneath the blankets, and the way it seems we’re working our way to a new sort of D/s relationship. It’s not perfect but it’s better than before. Baby steps, indeed.

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We both agree that our relationship isn’t as D/s as it used to be. The Knight and I aren’t the same people we were when this whole thing started two years ago. Life altering is how I would describe the past two years and to me, the biggest change has been the D/s aspect of us. I don’t like it…not one bit.

I want us back. I want the control to be completely his once more. Really, I can’t function the way it is right now. Just today I told him as much. But I don’t think either of us has any idea how to get it back. Right now, to be brutally honest, I wonder if it’s even possible. Even if it’s hard, I’m willing to try.

The question is-

How do we do it? Where do we start to get us back to the D/s place we need to be?

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As she watched his sleeping form beneath the comforter it occurred to her that she had never really thought about why she was still around. Almost five years had passed since the day, almost five years exactly as of tomorrow. With the morning light filtering through their bedroom window she blew him a kiss and stayed only long enough to see his eyes flutter open mere seconds before the alarm began to sound.

The nights were for him but her days were spent with the children. There were five to keep tabs on, all heading in different directions these days. Two were driving and the other three found plenty of mischief of their own without being behind the wheel of a car. Daytime was her time to focus and feel productive, feel as if she were contributing to their lives in some way, even now.

She watched as her oldest daughter crossed the street and slipped behind the wheel. She silently willed her to fasten her seatbelt but she need not have worried. She clicked the belt into place and started the car and the sound of music drifted to her ears. As she pulled from the curb the soft strains stirred something deep within her soul.

A memory came unbidden of the two of them at her sister’s wedding. With her pearl headband and her white satin dress she was the real belle of the ball that night. She danced and swayed, giggled and broke her first heart that night. A perfect flower girl, even though she had been a little shy. How sweet she looked while she slept on the edge of the dance floor.

In the years since the wedding she had turned into a stubborn young woman with a mind of her own. She’d outgrown her tomboy ways and settled into her own special brand of femininity. Though she’d missed the transformation it was unmistakable.

With a quick check on the littlest girl and a glance in at the two youngest boys she made her way across town and checked on the oldest one. Blonde haired and blue eyed with a devil may care attitude, her step-son had grown into a young man with a heart of gold. Gone were the traces of shyness and in their place was a solid sense of self. Behind the wheel of his dependable jalopy his head bobbed to the music his father had raised him on.

She smiled and blew him a kiss, lingering only long enough to see him smile as the kiss landed on his freckled nose. There was a day when he hadn’t been so receptive, a time when any sign of motherly affection from her was unwelcomed and often rewarded with little more than quiet hostility. Almost as if he knew more than he let on, his attitude towards her had changed just before that day all those years ago.

As the wind began to blow she closed her eyes and raised her hands above her head. The ankle length eyelet skirt was caught and immediately blown up to expose her bare legs. On the wind were the faint traces of summer flowers. Honeysuckle and jasmine mingled with roses leaving behind a sweetness that left her feeling alive and sensual.

The clouds caught her and nestled her close. Wisps of air took the form of fingers and lifted her dress over her head. Her naked Rubenesque form tingled and glistened in the sunlight and her auburn tresses fell from their pins to land upon her alabaster shoulders. She was the vision of not just any man, but her man.

He sat upright as the alarm sounded and knocked the clock to the floor. The pale blue numbers stared up him, almost daring him to ignore the time they displayed. His hands covered his face as he sank back into the pillows on their bed. The room was awash with the morning sun filtering through the dark red curtains, but behind his hand his eyes saw nothing but the vision from his dream.

With a deep breath in and a quiet exhalation he forced himself to open his eyes and take a good hard look. All around him were the things that reminded him of her, of the time they spent together. Five years had passed but he swore he could still smell the scent of her skin. It was as if every part of who she was had somehow seeped into every corner of their room and refused to move. Even if he wanted to, their room wouldn’t let him forget her.

His gaze landed on the picture of the two of them. How happy they both looked. Where once there had been a look of intense fear, in her eyes was a look of complete security. Her shoulders were bare and their comforter had been pulled up to cover her bare breasts as she leaned back against his naked chest. Immediately after the photographer had left that day they’d made love slowly and without reservation.

On the street he could hear the low rumble of the neighbors car starting. A dog barked and a bird chirped, but all he could hear was the remnants of her laughter. With a groan he rolled over and clutched the pillow beside him, the pillow that she once slept on.

His tears fell and his thoughts drifted to the days before the one he’ll never forget. They had known for weeks, maybe even months that the fight was being lost but they remained hopeful. They remained vigilant, certain that a miracle would happen in their lives, but well aware of what would happen if it didn’t. Once the days seemed to drag on, slowly, endlessly and the nights went too quickly. They made the best of them, but there weren’t enough.

She had mentioned once that one of the best nights had been the night they made love without rushing. The night that his fingers had lingered at the apex of her thighs, spread for his gaze, for his private viewing pleasure. He had traced a line from her swollen clit to her pucker, stopping only to cover his fingers in her slippery wetness for what seemed like hours before he had to have her.

As his hands gripped her hips and his cock nestled against her g-spot she had been his lady turned wanton whore. She had moaned and pressed hard against him, begging for his release, knowing that it would come only when he was ready. His hands drawn down her back had served to slow her down and when he bent his body to cover hers he could feel her shiver. A whisper in her ear, the only sound n their silent room, had sent them both over the edge.

Though it had been so long ago, he could remember the look on her face, the tears in her eyes as he gathered her close. His heart ached but his cock throbbed and though he didn’t think it was possible, he stroked himself until he climaxed. A little pleasure mixed with a little pain, bittersweet like the memories she left behind.

(to be continued…)

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Very few people know who I really am. Even fewer people know my real name or other identifying information. Those who know, they are the ones that I trust. I have valued my privacy but over time I have found that anything on the Internet is not private at all.

Not only has The Ex found this site, it seems The Sister has found it also. I know how she found it and it was my own fault. I believed that no one who knew me would know anyone in my family, etc. MySpace has disproved this theory time and again. It has helped millions who wished to remain anonymous become something different altogether.

The question is-
Now that so many others know, do I do away with the anonimity completely or do I try to keep it in check?

If anyone has encountered this problem, please let me know. The things on my site aren’t suitable for those under the age of eighteen nor do I feel that they’re appropriate for Mama or The Sister. Some things are none of their business. This blog, my writing, and my thoughts happen to be some of those things.

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When you’re diagnosed with cancer it’s hard enough. When you decide on a plan of action and take that first step it feels as if you’re really going to be ok. In your heart, deep down inside, you believe with everything that you are that it will all be ok. Sometimes it doesn’t work that way. Sometimes you find yourself at the beginning, starting over again with a little less hope and spirit than you once had.

When you hear that you might not make it, it sets off an entirely different chain of events. Suddenly you’re filled with a desperation that you never knew was possible. Everything around you is different but in the most amazing ways. The scents are stronger, the air brings a million different molecules, and your entire being is in tune with everything life has to offer. And the fear of not being able to fit everything in is overwhelming.

And sometimes you break. You don’t just stumble, you fall. You hit the ground and you skin your knees and the tears of humiliation burn like hell. When you’re down that low it’s impossible to see anything else but the world above you in a whole new and ultra-revealing light.

The Knight and I stumbled. It was a chain reaction that started with an overload of stress and snowballed into another atomic bomb. The children witnessed it and that alone was enough to break my heart, if it hadn’t already been broken. I’m not going to argue that I was right and he was wrong, because it isn’t that simple or that cut and dried. We both took a wrong step and we both accept responsibility for our actions.

I sobbed for hours on end but I never stopped believing that we would work it out. It wasn’t that I doubted that we’d both had enough, that we’d reached our breaking points. It was the fact that I know him and he knows me. I know how we are together. As I fell into bed at Mama’s house I knew I wouldn’t sleep, so I spent the night hoping and praying, eyeball deep in some good old fashioned soul searching.

{This is the song that kept running through my head on Monday night. Beautiful, isn’t it?}

When the sun came up I knew I wasn’t the same woman he had kicked to the curb the night before. I spent the day visiting family and friends, surrounding myself with a different kind of love. It wasn’t the same and it wasn’t the love I wanted the most but it did my heart good. Gone were the insecurities and the hesitations and in their place was a confidence that I had never known.

He emailed an apology and asked to work it out. He wrote to call when I was ready, so I did. He came to get me that evening, after having spent only twenty-four hours apart, but it might as well have been a lifetime for all the things that had changed.

I was thrilled to see him and nothing ever feels as right as being in his arms, but I held myself in check. For the second time in as many years he had broken my heart and it was a matter of self-preservation. It doesn’t mean I love him any less, but I know that I’m reigning it in a little more. It’s not like it used to be. There’s an honesty and a deep belief that existed before only on the surface.

He told me how scared he was when he saw me on Tuesday night. He said it looked like I had aged ten years overnight and he was worried. I told him that I might not have aged but that I’d definitely changed and that next time he did it I wouldn’t come back. And I mean it today like I meant it on Tuesday. Never again will I allow myself to be that hurt, that blindly led then shoved down.

I’m not the same person I was when I walked out at his request on Monday night. I’m a woman who knows her worth, a woman with pride and improved self-esteem. I’m a woman who is still madly and wildly in love with her man. So with our hands joined and our hearts on the mend we’re picking up the pieces and putting them back together.

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