The Drops

When He sends me back to the world I once considered my norm, it’s never pretty.

I drop into fuckin savagery.

Whether for a day or two or three, the civilized protocols and service I embrace when I'm with Him fall away as primal survival skills and a rudimentary existence rise once again to the surface.

Last time the incessant eye twitch was the wake-up call that snapped me out of my relentless focus of the concrete path in front of me.  For hours I'd battled the mental and physical churn of Midtown's Friday rush hour madness, trying to accomplish my tasks, but the warning at my brow eventually registered, and I paused on the dark sidewalk amid the unending noise and flow of humanity to assess my body.

My head throbbed.

My breathing was shallow.

Tension I used to carry daily but had forgotten about during the last few months had seeped into my shoulders and crawled up my neck.

My hips, relaxed and at ease just that morning in His cave, now ached and begged to stretch in sunshine.

I ground my teeth in irritation as the truth punched me in the gut.

I’m fucking getting soft.
Soft.
Weak.
Too used to the calmness and tranquility that surrounds me when I'm with Him, I no longer find the concrete jungle my playground to conquer.  It is no longer fuckin home.  

I'd fuckin let myself get used to...

His heat warming me at night.

To lights waking when I walked into a room.
The boring civilized commute to Him.

To home cooked meals.

To the comfort and bliss of service to His body and His day-to-day life.  
To being greeted with unrestrained joy and puppy licks when I arrived.

To zipping through quiet streets on trike rides and fresh air and sand beneath my feet.

To the sound of the surf licking the beach, the birds in the trees, and the hum of a home holding lives.  

To sitting in the magic of His garden.

To someone watching over me and giving a fuck if I was well or came back after work.

To laughter and joy and banter and debates and feeling…fuckin wanted.

I’ve rarely ever felt that kind of beauty in my adult life.

In the very few partners I’ve shared personal space with, resentment, ridicule, and criticism were the constant companions that accompanied our journeys together. No matter what I did, how much I gave, or how I may have twisted myself into a pretzel to be what they said they wanted…I was never appreciated or granted love or care or safety.

Until this summer.  Fate stepped in, and suddenly I was enmeshed in His world, and a peace I’ve never fuckin found wrapped me in a loving embrace.

Fuck…it was like crack. I got addicted.  Even in the challenges, a calm grounding settled me.  It lulled me and quietly peeled back all my armor until I was just me, my guard down completely.  Just a soft weak fool blissfully flowing in service and in love.

And I changed.  My center shifted.  My heart, mind, body, and soul see Him, my second boyfriend, that house, the garden, the woods, the boardwalk, the parks, the beach...that's home.  On the every edge of NYC and the world.

Being anywhere else—no matter how temporary—is only a place I must navigate, battle, and endure until the next time He brings me back.  Until then, I am simply savage.

Alone, I have no choice but to be fiercely on alert for drama and bullshit because He is no longer there to lead my steps or watch over me.  I am in a sea of chaos, navigating my way through errands, around throngs of slow amebas of tourists, away from homeless desperation or dodging random nonsense.  Just this weekend on a Brooklyn sidewalk in broad daylight a stranger crawled out of a store to push up on me, dismissing my BFF's presence completely to repetitively announce how much he wanted her "sister's boldness" as he followed us for a full block.  The clown's hounding was another stark reminder of how primal I MUST be when I am away from Him.  

Even in my cave, I'm savage.  I hibernate. I don’t want to talk.  I barely eat or bother to bath.  I fall into long hours of restless unpeaceful unconsciousness, unaware of anything but the crappy dreams that occasionally chew at my soul. If I’m awake, my motions and actions are automatic, chores performed without emotion to cross them off the list and be semi-effective with my time and energy.

A lioness discontent in her temporary banishment to a harsh empty world.  

Yes, I made the most of my time single, learning, growing, and contributing as much as I could to the people, ideas, and causes I believed in.  However, the last year with Him has shown me how very much I was missing in my life.  Leadership.  Direction.  The service to another...something greater than myself.  And most of all love, passion, and joy...the things that make a life rich and meaningful.   

When I am away...I want to fight the reality, but there is nothing to fight.  From the beginning, He has held complete control of when, where, and how we exist.  My few attempts to push ended in inadvertent hardship we then had to overcome.  When the Universe shows me the path, I've learned to listen early to Her guidance.  

So I drop, and I surrender to the savage in me as I wait for Him to call me back home to Him.

~DominaKat