Her Owner

I am not dead, nor has this web-site been abandoned. There are times in my life when I go quiet, when I try to understand what is going on around me. Life has not been kind to me in the past four month. Many things have changed for me and I have come to the realisation that my focus on material possession really is not healthy for me. I better understand my pride and that longing for something too quickly only puts you into a state of mind where failure seems to be worsened.

I questioned many things these past four months and I have felt like an underachiever more than once. All those high flying plans in my mind stopped by the realisation that I like to talk a lot, yet in the end nothing seems to get done when it comes to my dreams. I felt sorrow over my career, I belaboured the point that moving to Canada actually put a big dent into my career and thus did not allow me to have the things I always wanted to have. In the end I have come to understand that whining over such things, that having too much pride and not enough patience is not worth it. My slave recently published a post about a disconnect with her feelings. While there are no accusations towards me and it is a very introspective post, it still made my heart sink a little bit.

I am indeed not very emotional and I have never been. I have always blamed this on the way I am neurologically, something that doctors have studied and researched over and over again and thus pretty much given me carte blanche to use it as a cop out. If I am intelligent enough to skip years of education and still end up with two Master of Science degrees, then I should be intelligent enough to realise that having the right amount of emotions makes life easier. not only for me, for all the people that have to interact with me. In Africa some people thing that the Water Buffalo is the most dangerous animal of the so called big five. Not because it is the strongest animal and not because it is the most deadly, but because it is one of the few animals that has absolutely no body language. They simply do not show any emotion on the surface, however when they do charge you, they come at you full force.
I am much like a water buffalo. I make the life of those around me harder by not giving them cues to go on. Human beings are inherently social creatures and we alter our behaviour towards each other based on the emotional cues we read. Being a part of a Master/slave relationship I not only control what my slave brings to the table, but I also control myself. I want her to be happy and to open herself up to anything that challenges her, because she understands that in the end I will always be there to support her.
I do not think I have shown that emotional support enough, often when we do have a serious conversation about this topic I will get very quiet and I know how that can be misconstrued as being dismissive.  It cannot feel right when your partner, whether he is your Master or not, says to you that her simply does not understand you. That he does not understand you because he cannot relate to the emotion you just described. I cannot recall ever having been jealous and I cannot recall ever having been hurt by the actions of a lover. I cannot recall having been angered by rejection and I cannot recall having been frustrated by mere actions of another being. That might sound cold, almost mechanical, however a part of my personality has always been that I very cleanly separate myself from those emotions and I look at them as an abstract, rather than a construct that needs to be a part of my psyche.

That is not a proper way of interacting with others though and I am sure that the emotion itself exists somewhere deep in my mind. My slave and I were talking recently and I made an off-hand remark about my kink and how I did not feel like there was anything left. I know that the remark mainly was and is driven by the past four months. Frustration that has piled up over many things, mainly the fact that it took me so long to realise that it is not others I should blame, but that I should look inside myself for better answers. That remark confused and hurt her, simply because much of our relationship is based on this foundation and I had questioned it. Upon reflection I know that my initial statement is none-sense. I love my kink, I do not know any other person as convinced that kink is the way to do than I am. However the immediate emotion was not there, I felt very much bland, just how most doctors’ waiting rooms make me feel. The choice of colour in those rooms is best described as bland in my vocabulary.

Somewhere in my mind I imagine this enraged little man, filled up to bursting with all these opinions and emotions and yet he is tucked away in a vault that could withstand a direct nuclear explosion. While he tries to get out now and then, he has not resorted to writing little notes, shoving them somehow out of the vault and then hoping that someone else on the other side actually picks them up so that the conscious part of my body knows what time it is, figuratively speaking. I know that man probably had half a heart attack when I spoke so dismissively about my kink and what it means to me.

Where is it, where is he, where is the man and where is the key to the vault? Maybe it is time for me to spend more time with myself rather than worrying how quickly I can afford to drive a Porsche or a Maserati, or whether I am living in a 2700 square foot home. Those are very nice things to have and they add thrill to my life, but in the end I need to be happy with myself and I need to be able to make those that share their life with me feel loved, cradled in my care and above all safe. I love my slave and even though there are always limitations to what reality brings and what my fantasy might have envisioned, I want to explore myself and my perversion with her and not someone else. If that means cutting the little man out of his vault, then so be it. I am sure there is a plasma torch somewhere in the garage.