Getting some of it out

Grrrr!  I had a post typed out, and the computer was acting weird.  So I copied and pasted the post content into WordPad, just in case, and restarted my computer.  It did not auto-save here for some reason, and apparently WordPad can just pick and choose when it wants to save something and when it does not.  So, the big long post I had is gone, and I am too annoyed and angry to try to redo it right now.

I’ve been that way a lot lately…grumpy and moody and antsy.  I can’t seem to sit still.  I clean like a crazy person, and get mad when I run out of things to clean.  I have been moping around, confused and annoyed that I can’t find anything to do.  I was so happy on Sunday and Monday.  I cooked dinner for Him and Pam on Sunday night, and I really enjoyed the process.  Letting them sit and watch TV, talk on the phone, just be while I made food for us.  It was made even better by the lovely little spanking I got while in the middle of cooking.  He turned me to face the counter and lifted the back of my dress.  He pulled my panties down past my ass and stood very close next to me.  I nuzzled back against Him as His hand hit my bare skin.  It lasted just a few minutes, but it was a perfect little reminder that I belong to Him.

I need that more than I let on sometimes.  I start to ache when He isn’t around.  I feel silly when I ask Him to remind me.  I feel like I should just know and shouldn’t need a refresher course all the time.  I am ever so happy when I feel wrapped up in Him.  Not necessarily physically, although that is just delightful.  It’s more of an emotional surrounding that I crave.  When I feel kept and held and like I am rooted to Him, nothing else matters.  I smile and I can go about my day and my life as a happy girl.  But when it starts to slip?  I feel so lost and alone and scared.

I got to clean and organize His apartment for most of Monday while He and Pam were at work.  It was hard work.  I moved furniture and unpacked and repacked boxes.  I swept under things, and found places for things.  I was sad to leave Monday evening.  I am always sad when I have to leave Him.  But this time I was sad that I was leaving that place.  I wanted to stay and do more.  I wanted to cook again, and tackle the mess that is the spare room upstairs.  I was running on very little sleep, but the energy came from somewhere.  It hit me when I got home and finally sat down to relax.  But it was a good feeling.  I felt like I had fulfilled my purpose, like I had done my job.

There were some things whose time had come to meet the dumpster, but I knew they would never throw them out.  So I took them and tossed them.  I stirred up so much dust that I of all people couldn’t breathe.  I’m not allergic to anything!  But I was on Monday.  Pam was a little upset that some of the stuff had gone to the bin, and I started to argue with her.  He held my hair firmly in His hand and whispered to me to let her talk, that she would be okay, and arguing was not an option.  He held my hair again on the way home when I had a little break-down after a conversation with my dad (more on that later).

I felt like I want to feel all the time.  When I was cooking, when I was cleaning, when He spanked me, when His hands were in my hair.  That sense of purpose and reason.  The feeling of belonging and being needed.  I felt like I had a place.  And it was so hard to leave.  I have been dreaming these normal dreams every night since.  I wake up in the dream, and make breakfast, take Him to work and the kids to school, I come back and chat with Pam, and then she goes off to work.  I meet Him for lunch, and then come back to clean and do laundry, and go to the store, and run errands.  I pick up the kids from school, and they play as I start dinner.  We go pick Him up, and I finish dinner as we wait for Pam to get home.  We all eat and talk and laugh.  And then the kids go to bed, and the three of us just ARE.  I want that.  And I know it’s a long ways off.  But I want it.  More than I’ve ever wanted anything.  I want them, my kids, us, all of that.  I want us to be a family.

It scares me a little to admit that.  Pam and I talked about it over the weekend, and I think her and I are on the same page. It is terrifying, though.  The thought of mixing the two biggest parts of me.  They have been so separate until now.  Not completely, but Mommy and His girl have pretty much been two different people.  The thought of being both at the same time makes me dizzy.  Good and bad dizzy at the same time.  I ache for it.  I want and need it.  I think it would be good for all of us.  But it is just so scary.  What if it doesn’t work out?  What if we all get just so hurt?  What if…there are 382 what-ifs.  I’m trying not to let them bother me.  Pam wants us to be more like a family.  I want us to be more like a family.  And He asked me to bring the kids down this weekend.  It will be the first time the kids have been to their house.  I am okay right now, but will probably start freaking out about it tomorrow.

I’ve said it a lot lately, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.  I’ve got so much I need and want to do.  I’ve got 1,000 thoughts, and I am slowly sorting though them and getting them out.  I make notes all over the place lately, trying desperately not to forget a thought that comes to me that wants out.  The sooner I get them here, the better.  This post contained a few of them.  Let’s say…five down.  Only 995 to go!  🙂


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