Always Sunny

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It will only hurt for a second,
You whisper to yourself.
Not everyone will love you.
Not everyone will stay.

The world is full of cruel people,
Even if you refuse to see.
They will still hurt you.
If you let them, that is.

There is a wall that will keep you safe.
No one can tear it down.
Just hide there and pretend.
For it is always a sunny day.


Daddy Issues

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One thing I will never deny about myself are my “Daddy issues.”

When I was little, I grew up feeling like I didn’t have a father. Sure, I knew who he was. I even went to visit at least once a year, but we never had much of a relationship. He intimidated me and I always felt out of place and uncomfortable around him. I wanted so much to have what my idea of a father-daughter relationship was with him. I wanted him to love me in the way that I wanted, and keep his promises. He wasn’t who I wanted him to be.

When I was 5 my mother found a serious boyfriend who later became my step-father, but I never accepted him as my father. He treated my mother and me very well and never pushed any limits, but he wasn’t MY father and I didn’t want him to be. It wasn’t until I was 16 that I realized that he had always been my dad. He was always there when I needed him to be and he loved me. I understand now that it was difficult to be affectionate with me being a step child because he didn’t want to cross any lines, but he has always loved me just as much as the rest of his children. It took me a while to see that, but when I did. . .I cried. I felt stupid, naive, and immature. It was only a few months later that I asked him to adopt me and requested that my biological father sign off his rights to me.

After I had finally accepted my step-father as my “Dad,” I no longer wanted anything to do with my biological father. In my mind he had lost his chance. When he tried to get in contact with me and have a relationship with me later, I rejected him and told him I wanted nothing to do with him. It made me feel better. I felt content having a mother and father that didn’t involve him and I resented all of the heartache he had caused me.

In the 2 and a half years that I had spent not speaking to my biological father, I got married, had a baby, and bought a house. I was happy, and moving on with my life. I won’t lie, I wasn’t missing my father, nor did I feel like he was missing in my life. I didn’t hate him, I wasn’t angry with him. I just didn’t want anything to do with him.

A few months ago I got a call from my great aunt who told me that my father had breast cancer. Later I found out it was also in his lymph nodes and pancreas. My first reaction was frustration. I had wished that they didn’t call me. I didn’t want to know, I didn’t want to care, I didn’t want to be involved. It wasn’t that I wasn’t worried about my father, it’s the point that I was and I didn’t want to get involved and get my heart broken again. It took me a long time to process my emotions. I didn’t call him or his parents. I didn’t do much of anything. I just waited for it to sink in, but it didn’t. After about a month, I wrote a letter venting all of the thoughts and feelings I wasn’t able to do in the past.

It wasn’t an angry, hurtful letter. It was a letter explaining my actions and at the end I put that I didn’t know him and I would like to get a chance to. About fifteen minutes after I sealed the letter in an envelope, my mother called and told me that she had spoken to my grandmother and the doctors had told her that it didn’t look good. For the first time since I had gotten the news, I cried. I still didn’t know what I was feeling, all I knew was that I wasn’t ready to lose my father. I immediately started planning a trip to Georgia and a few weeks later I drove down there.

It wasn’t until the very last minutes of my trip that I got the talk that I wanted with my dad, but it was exactly what I wanted and needed. He told me all of the things that I already knew, but needed to hear. He told me that he lived his life the way he felt he needed to for HIM. He told me that he was glad that my step father helped to raise me right, and he apologized for not being there. Then he said the words that will ALWAYS ring in my hears. He told me that I was his inspiration, and that I was always in the back of his mind. He told me he loved me, always had, and always would. And he told me that he wanted to make things better.

As I grow older, I learn new lessons everyday. One thing that I am learning is that life is what you make it. I went from being a child feeling like I didn’t have a father, to an adult who is grateful to have two fathers in my life that were always there. I’m also learning that life is a real bitch and if you don’t come out fighting, you’re going to come out crying. . .I would much rather go out fighting.

But I Do

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You shouldn’t have flirted.
You shouldn’t have put your arms around me.
You shouldn’t have touched my hand.
You shouldn’t have put your hands on my body,
But you did.

I shouldn’t want you.
I shouldn’t crave you.
I shouldn’t stay up at night dreaming about your touch.
I shouldn’t want to kiss your lips.
But I do.

My Marriage

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I married him.
You know, my best friend.
Wed in a barn,
with whispers of a shotgun.
“It was lovely, it was perfect.”

She was beautiful.
You know, our daughter.
The best moment of my life
was hearing her cry.
“An Angel.”

We bought it!
You know, the house.
A place of our own,
Where our family can grow.
“It’s a great start.”

I should be happy.
You know, with the story.
“It should be enough.”
But it’s not. . .
“Happiness comes from within.”

I didn’t know what it meant.
You know, to love someone.
Not until she came into my life.
Now, that I know. . .I know.
“He gave you your daughter, you have to love him for that.”

I wish that I felt. . .
You know, passion, desire, love.
I hate that I don’t.
Maybe I can’t?
I wonder what my mom would say.

Why Not?

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It’s just a spark.
A tickle, a giggle, a bitten lip.
That begins a journey.
A story worth reading.
A secret never shared.

It’s just a kiss.
Come close, touch me, I want to feel your breath.
A decision; a desire.
Passion, spontaneity, lust, infatuation, curiosity, uncertainty?
Please, close the door.

It’s just an evening.
A moment; never enough.
Please, don’t wake me up,
Let me dream, let me pretend.
Kiss me, one last time.

It’s just a secret.
A mistake?
A revelation?
So many questions.
Will it happen again?

It’s just a spark.
It’s just a kiss.
It’s just an evening.
It’s just a secret.
Why not?


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I try to write things that rhyme,
but I can’t always seem to find the time.
It’s hard enough knowing what to say,
and to say it in that special way.

To make the words jive and flow,
they have to make sense, don’t you know!
For if they don’t, you will see
It simply isn’t poetry.

All this writing frustrates me,
Why can’t I just be lazy?
Why can’t I like pictures instead?
Or painting things pretty red?

But of course I had to want to write
About autumn days and summer nights.
There is no easy out for me
A glutton for punishment I must be.

The Life of a Submissive

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I wrote this on my other blog and felt that it was relevant. Needless to say: Submissive Face

The DD Side of Things

The life of a submissive isn’t always an easy one.  It might sound easy to have someone guiding you through life, but it’s not.  It is very difficult trusting your life in some other person’s hands; trusting them to know what is right for you and make decisions in your best interests.  It is difficult to let go of control and give it to someone else and trust them with it.  It takes practice.  It takes conscious decisions.  It takes. . .balls.

To listen and obey.

To trust.

To relinquish.

It’s not easy.  Then to be punished.  That’s a whole different ball game.

To trust someone to punish you for misbehaving and not to take it too far, or push you too far beyond your limits.

To accept that you have done something wrong and know you will be disciplined for it.

Knowing it will hurt.

It takes a strong…

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