truth and consquences

I loved you MSR. Truth. It broke my heart. Consequence. Please be careful with my heart MSR is all I asked. We started our relationship in secret. It was an affair. It continued. I was your lover. Then we shared more time, friendships, and then lived with one another. I should have known when the bedrooms were separated that I was being held hostage by my own desperation. I never wanted that separation. It hurt me to the core. It filled my psyche with division. I only wanted to share and be wanted like I wanted you. To love and be loved. A redemption for all the years I spent loving someone who never could love.

There were shared moments of love and kindness but I couldn't let go of that distance between us and now here I am forced into that distance beyond any abyss I've known. I cry but mostly I ponder why I loved that much, that hard, so full of desire. MSR will always be my special love.

Noodles and other shared language

You are MSR. It was my password. My secret romance. The ring of it in my ear kept me smiling.

That secret is gone now.

Our secret language has been broken. Noodles. I even made a mixed cd with the noodles on the cover to show you how I felt for you for christmas last year. Noodles were mine. Other folks could call them magic circles or something else, but to me they were noodles and when you asked me what I was doing to you, that is what I said...noodling.

You have broken that secret MSR.

Where is the language that we shared? It is piled in a heap that you tossed away.

You meant the world to me and it's gone.

secrets

We share secrets. Secret fantasies. Secret histories. MSR. I share this only with you.

Use me MSR. Play. Gag me while I'm on all fours in front of you, your pretty feet resting on my back while you watch the television. Have the belt or cane by your side just for kicks. Stick you toes in my cunt and I'll noodle you slowly. Still gagged.
Whip me for fun. Force me on my knees to clean the floor, the toilet, the shower while your piss goes down my face.

Demand your servant sleep on the floor or send her home.

Your knock at my door could only mean one thing. Bring you the wine, feed you, noodle you. No words are needed MSR.

loss and regret

MSR, I am deeply sorry for hurting you. The pages that I've written here are only evidence of my vulnerabilty. I lost control of who I was when I realized that I could not have you that way that I wanted and it was beyond my power to fix things. I deeply regret my actions and know that I have along way to go to find my centered self. I will miss you dearly in the months ahead but know that I do not want to hurt any more and only want to make myself a better person. I pray that when I feel whole again, you are willing to accept my hand in friendship and possibility. Again...please accept my deepest apology and deepest repentance.

fantasy

I would come home and she would be waiting or I would be waiting for her. To bring her sweet wine and kisses. To strip each other. For her hands upon me. Our lips together and our legs entwined.

There would be times of hard work and equal relaxation. Lazy languid days filled with cooking, lovemaking, and absolute naughtiness. Time to build shelves and paint and make a home.

It was all I wanted.

She could have asked for anything she wanted if I felt secure. My submission would have been complete.

what kind of love

I wrote a poem about 18 months ago and I think it's still true...

awkward, shy love
this is not that
lustful love
I confess
tender, careful love
always
disingenuous love
i do not want it
foolish love
perhaps
abiding love
for you and me I pray

I do not ever want a love that is disengenuous. I may be foolish at times in my desire but it's real and never put on like a mask.

I pray that when I look into your eyes and touch you lips with mine, my foolish self ceases to exist.

This love I have for you MSR encompasses many feelings inside one heart.
I like your style, energy, enthusisam, intelligence.
I love your stories and the quiet way you share them.
I love the parts of you no one sees---the fragile Sandi and the brutus Sandi.
I want to hold her.
I love my boisterous friend.
I like your hands.
I love your curiousity.
I admire your discipline.
I enjoy your company.
I revel in your sexiness.

Where does it lead me?

truth and shame

I had kept this tiny bit of hope in my heart that you really and truly loved me. I have felt shameless at times for how much I've held you close. I have felt completely shamed when I've hurt you. I have felt the pain of my own shame. My heart was boundless with you.

Was I alone in how I felt? Is love worth more than pride?

To know the truth is set yourself free. This is my new journey.