I’ve been thinking a lot lately about many things. Today a memory came flooding back into my head on my ride home from work. Even for a Monday it was a bear at work, I was exhausted as I didn’t sleep well last night. Dreams, not being able to get comfortable, the typical Sunday night angst of going back to work on Monday, especially right now. The year is coming to a head and we are swamped.
This memory I speak of just came swimming up from nowhere into the forefront of my mind as I was pulling into a produce stand to pick up an onion.
See Kayla and I met as we were both coming out of another relationship. I was on the cusp of ending one and she was in the throws of one having ended. Neither of us was looking for a relationship yet we in some crazy way found one another and we talked.
She wanted to know what when on in the head of a Dom and me, well I wanted to understand the submissive mind better.
Late into the nights we would chat, talking about this, talking about that. We would talk about our various kinks, we would talk about what the lifestyle meant to us, we would talk about our favorite movies, foods, and on and on.
I found myself growing closer to her as time went by, she was still skittish. We tentatively entered a bit of a D/s agreement as I began helping her with her diet and exercise.
Neither one of us mentioned anything about a relationship.
Some of it I tried to push away, I tried to push her away; I told her I was not the one she should be talking to, I gave her the name of a Domme I know from the local community here that mentors submissive women. She balked, she didn’t want to talk to her, she wanted to talk to me.
Then one night she asked me a question; “What if I meet a Dom, can we still be friends?”
At this point I had feelings for her, I could feel the embers growing inside. I told her most likely that would not work as she would have to serve her Dom and with that there would be no time to be friends with me. Not to mention that a Dom would certainly frown on his sub being friends with another Dom.
Inside I knew I cared for her, but I also knew that I cared enough about her by this time that what mattered most was her happiness. If that were to be with someone else so be it, I loved her that much that I was willing to let her go to have her happiness.
Over the course of several weeks in our chats she would ask me the same question again. “Can we still be friends if I meet a Dom?”
My answer remained the same, “I don’t see how that would be possible.”
Then she would extoll on how that was unfair and that she wanted me as a friend no matter what happened.
“Life isn’t always fair.” I would tell her.
Still night after night we would talk, I was patient, I was consistent, always there, listening when needed, talking, explaining.
Now in four days I will be leaving one last time, this time to bring her home with me, to begin a new chapter. My babygirl, the masochist to my sadist, the sub to my Dom.