"Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get - only with what you are expecting to give - which is everything." (Katharine Hepburn)

"What's the matter, not used to loving your Master?"
The day he said that to me my heart froze. I thought, oh shit, I don't....... do I? The idea circled in my mind for days and I obsessed about it, analysing my feelings and trying desperately to pinpoint the nature of his hold over me. I came up with a detailed understanding of power and how he had obtained it, and that consoled me a little, though it didn't really answer the question. I was terrified. I didn't want to give him that. I wanted to give him my body, my mind, my freedom, my loyalty and obedience.... but not love, I wanted to keep that to myself. Thinking I could, made me feel safe.

But the truth of it is, I can't. If I am to be truly his slave, I cannot withhold anything. I need to offer all I am able to give. And not even because he wants it - but on mere principle. He has the right to everything. It is up to me to lay it all out for the taking, and what he does not accept remains on offer - his if he ever would like it. If I can love him, I must offer him that.

I know, I know, "love" is some magical force that we are subject to, rendering us powerless against our fate as we fall under its spell, unable to choose who we might like to give it to, right? Yeah, right. I have my doubts. (I never was the romantic type, lol...) It seems to me that many of us choose who we love, whether for conscious reasons or unconscious ones. We are able to love anyone who meets a need in us. It is just a matter of allowing yourself to.

So, once I realised I was withholding something from him, I knew my task. I knew I could love him, I just needed to open myself to it so I could offer that sincerely. It is a long, ongoing process of giving up control, locating my greatest fear and gradually prying its long-stiffened fingers loose, uncovering what makes me most vulnerable.

I am still afraid - a big part of me would sooner offer my own death. But theres a funny thing about love: it brings along with it that unique kind of bliss. It is, as the song says, a fresh feeling. Even while a part of me mourns over this, I can't help also feeling happy. It makes the fear just bearable.