I messed up. I totally messed up. I should never have brought up the D/s topic, and it really isn't a good idea to talk about sex with Herb over MSN. It accelerates too fast, and suddenly all we're talking will be sex and nothing else and suddenly Herb will pull the hand brake and I'll be jerk out of my sexual fantasies and wondering where I am, what did I do.
That happened last night, and left me a shuddering crying mess on my bed, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. Am I too interested in sex? I love Herb more than I love sex and I wouldn't mind at all if we never have sex again as long as he continues loving me. He introduced me to the joys of sex and the memory of all the great sex we had is enough for me. I don't need sex, I need Herb.
I love Herb more than anything else in this world. I need him. I crave him. I get so afraid of loosing him everytime I mess up. My love for him makes me deliriously happy, yet sometimes it depresses me so much too....
Why is it so hard to be a woman. Why must we have a brain which over-analyses everything? Why must I have at least one good cry a month to keep me sane? Why is it when I'm too busy to cry and go without it for two months I turn into an numb, unfeeling bitch who knows she needs to cry but doesn't now how? Last night & this morning's crying really really rejuvenated me. Much much much more than the feeble attempts I had at crying last week. It was REAL crying, with REAL fear of loosing the love of my life. I needed it. As much as I need Herb's love. And much much much more than I need sex.
It was during the crying spell, when I could scarcely think of anything except my fear of loosing Herb and how lucky I was to have him, a thought occured to me. If I was an animal, I'd like to be a cat born into Herb's family. As a cat, I wouldn't have mood swings, I wouldn't make mistakes, I wouldn't analyse, and I wouldn't be a smart ass who keeps getting into trouble. I'll be loved by him, and cuddled by him all time. I'll have unlimited love and unlimited cuddles and I can spend all day curled up in his lap purring. I would be soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo happy that way. It won't matter that I'll never have sex, never orgasm. I'll have Herb's love, and that's enough for me.
Today, when I turned my computer on, there was a dozen sweet messages from sweet Herb. Reassuring me and telling me he loves me. He said He wanted to cuddle up in bed with me and fall asleep and he needed me to love him and look after him. His sweet words made me cry again, this time with a smile on my face. This time the tears were tears of love and tears of relief. And this time, the tears healed me and made me whole again. He had mended the holes in my heart, with piece of his own heart. I'm his, and he's mine.
That happened last night, and left me a shuddering crying mess on my bed, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. Am I too interested in sex? I love Herb more than I love sex and I wouldn't mind at all if we never have sex again as long as he continues loving me. He introduced me to the joys of sex and the memory of all the great sex we had is enough for me. I don't need sex, I need Herb.
I love Herb more than anything else in this world. I need him. I crave him. I get so afraid of loosing him everytime I mess up. My love for him makes me deliriously happy, yet sometimes it depresses me so much too....
Why is it so hard to be a woman. Why must we have a brain which over-analyses everything? Why must I have at least one good cry a month to keep me sane? Why is it when I'm too busy to cry and go without it for two months I turn into an numb, unfeeling bitch who knows she needs to cry but doesn't now how? Last night & this morning's crying really really rejuvenated me. Much much much more than the feeble attempts I had at crying last week. It was REAL crying, with REAL fear of loosing the love of my life. I needed it. As much as I need Herb's love. And much much much more than I need sex.
It was during the crying spell, when I could scarcely think of anything except my fear of loosing Herb and how lucky I was to have him, a thought occured to me. If I was an animal, I'd like to be a cat born into Herb's family. As a cat, I wouldn't have mood swings, I wouldn't make mistakes, I wouldn't analyse, and I wouldn't be a smart ass who keeps getting into trouble. I'll be loved by him, and cuddled by him all time. I'll have unlimited love and unlimited cuddles and I can spend all day curled up in his lap purring. I would be soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo happy that way. It won't matter that I'll never have sex, never orgasm. I'll have Herb's love, and that's enough for me.
Today, when I turned my computer on, there was a dozen sweet messages from sweet Herb. Reassuring me and telling me he loves me. He said He wanted to cuddle up in bed with me and fall asleep and he needed me to love him and look after him. His sweet words made me cry again, this time with a smile on my face. This time the tears were tears of love and tears of relief. And this time, the tears healed me and made me whole again. He had mended the holes in my heart, with piece of his own heart. I'm his, and he's mine.
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