Fragile

This has been a hard week. Last Saturday night, my son wrecked a motorcycle. By all accounts, he really should be dead. He was on the expressway, going 60 mph, and the back wheel of the bike caught some gravel and he crashed into a concrete wall. He was not wearing a helmet. He did break his foot and he has cuts and abrasions all over his body, but other than that he is fine. He does not feel fine, he is in pain, a lot of it. But there is not a scratch or bruise on his head and everything else will heal, so he is fine. The hardness of my week was tempered by the thankfulness of him being alive. I feel as if I faced the difficult truth that life is fragile and temporary and I walked away unscathed by that truth. Maybe not really unscathed, I have shed a lot of tears over what might have been. But they have been tears of gratitude and recognition of blessings.

I call myself a Christian, but I play loose with that term. I embrace beliefs from many religions, I am not sure I believe in heaven and hell (at least not the way most people do). I do not attend a church. I am very liberal in my views. I don't think there is an absolute truth. While I think the Bible is inspiring, and is inspired, I do not think it is the be all end all. Yet, I know that there is some force, some energy, be it God or the Universe or the tao or our own inner energy and strength, that helps us, protects us and forms us. I cling to the mantra that everything will work out and be okay. I always know that somehow, we will get through it (whatever "it" is).

I find strength and hope and faith in many things. J is certainly one source (a big source) for me. I do not exalt him to god status, but in times of worry and uncertainty, he is a rock I can cling to. I know that he loves me. I know that he will never intentionally harm me. I know that he cares about all that happens to me. We may not always be physically together, but he is always with me in some way. He tells me he admires my strength. He tells me that I am a good person. I believe him, but sometimes I feel like a fraud. I don't always feel strong or good. I see people all around, who just want to be loved. They want to see proof of that love. I cannot be all things to all people. Some people I just flat out do not like. I do not always treat everyone fairly. I am not always honest or honorable. I berate myself over those things. I am capable of being better, but I don't do it. What makes us good, or bad, or annoying? Why do horrible things happen to wonderful people and wonderful things happen to people who do not deserve it? Thise are age old questions, ones that I will never know the answers to. Yet, I know that many people live in their own hell, even if they don't show it on the outside.

We are fragile beings, both physically and emotionally. No matter how strong or blessed that you are, things can change in a blink of an eye. I am very thankful that my world did not change, as I blinked this last Saturday. My children are the best things I have done, I am thankful for them.

I have been silent here for so long. I am not sure why. I got lazy and distracted and tired. I would start to write and then feel it was redundant or I could not form my thoughts. I am sad to say, that in many ways, Facebook has become my form of expression. Ideas copied and fragments of my thoughts and passions. Yet there is so much I do not write there. So much is hidden. I have lacked the discipline to express myself here. While my love and devotion for J are still strong and our relationship is at the five year mark, what has brought my voice back is my outrage, grief and heartache for a friend.

She and her husband conceived a child, their third. She is sweetness and gentleness personified. Their first two children are boys and this is the girl that they have been wishing for. She is now in her seventh month and last week, she went for her third routine ultrasound. That is when they were abruptly told that the baby appeared to have anencephaly and would die and nothing could be done. Anencephaly is a condition were the skull and the brain do not fully develop. these babies often miscarry or are stillborn, but if they are born alive, they only live outside the womb for a only short time. After having an enhanced ultrasound and a vaginal ultrasound, to confirm the condition, they discussed termination of the pregnancy with the doctor. Faced with delivering a baby, only to have it die in her arms a short time later, she decided to abort the pregnancy. I know this was a heart wrenching decision for these parents. Unfortunately, the hospital called her today, to tell her that, because this would be a late term abortion, she could not exercise that option. She is being forced to carry and deliver a baby, who has no chance at all of living. She is being forced to have this baby and then watch it die.

I have watched and grieved while this country has fought about insuring that citizens have healthcare. I have watched the poor be maligned and marginalized. I have watched as women in this country have their rights and their choices restricted and denied. I have watched battles about gay marriage rage and be won, only to be pushed back again. I see people all around me that are passionate about their ignorance. When presented with the truth, they are deaf and blind, but they soak up every lie that is tossed in their direction. I used to think that all of this was the birthing pains of our country growing with the times and moving towards a new direction of acceptance and fairness. Yet, I am quickly becoming fearful that what we are birthing is a malformed brainless baby that cannot live. I want better than that for my grandchildren. I want more than that for myself. I am ashamed to live in a country that is driven by fear and hatred. One where being poor is a crime, being a woman is unfortunate, being gay is a sacrilege.

Tonight, I am grieving, for my friend, for her family and for our country.

Needs

I do not write here much anymore. I'm not sure why, but I am sure there are several reasons. One of them is I began to feel I kept writing the some thing, over and over. I don't know why that mattered to me. Maybe I began writing for an audience other than J.Perhaps I worried that J would begin to doubt my sincerity after posting a similar theme, over and over.

Before I was in a relationship (and for some time after we met), I would search and read other blogs. Trying to determine what I wanted and how to be in a D/s relationship. I did learn things, both things I wanted and things I did not. I was trying to find myself. Now, I find myself in my own archives. I find myself in his control. I find myself in my needs and desires. For a long time, I thought it was wrong to need someone, to rely on them. I don't know if it is wrong or not, but I need J. I need him every minute of every day. He dwells in my mind and I interact with him constantly.  I think of him and I hear his voice. I recall him and feel his touch and his taste. I converse with him, I laugh with him, I complain to him. I do all these things on a personal level too, but I do them in my mind when he is not with me. When life is rough and cold and tiring, I cocoon myself in him. I crawl inside of him in my mind and I lock the rest of the world out.

That is what his control is to me. My cocoon. Whether he controls me with his words or pleasure or pain, it allows me to shut out the rest of the world. I am in paradise when my whole world consists of him. When I am wrapped tightly inside of him, I am safe and sensual and content. It is where I need to be. It is everything I desire. It is heaven.

Sometimes, I get caught up in the rest of the world and I am lost. But then he touches me, with a note or a call or a touch, and I am rescued, once again. It makes me want to give him more and more, because the more I surrender, the safer I am in my cocoon.