Sometimes, life is just life, a kiss is just a kiss and play is just play. And sometimes, angels sing.
When I talk about my relationships, I often pluck out those moments that ARE the angels singing, and I hold those instances up to the light and examine them. I sometimes talk about day to day stuff, but even then, I choose the moments that interest me, those that have some small revelation, so I think I am maybe guilty of adding to the ‘idealistic fantasy’ of D/s relationships, even if it is not the stereotypical one.
There is a thing that I seek, a quality that I want in the boys who I bring home to me, this quality makes me swoon and speak grandly of lofty peaks.
The boys I choose are frightening in their ability to be open, they *seek* vulnerability, and I will poke at it and coax it or force it out and they will give it to me, devoid of ego or defences, they scrape themselves raw and offer up their insides with a lack of self consciousness that defies logic. It is a very particular and amazing way of relating. I would say that most people are not capable of it. It is *more* than just sharing, it is a ripping open of their innermost core, it is a willingness to show it all, despite fear.
I could never do that, it’s just not part of my makeup. It is a rare and stunning quality that floors me every time, it is a level of courage I don’t have. I look at it in wonder and awe.
I choose those submissives who are capable, eager and willing to go there because part of *my* pleasure is in the incredible power and heat of seeing it. It makes me want to utter grandiose proclamations into the ether, to belt out opera, to believe in God, to reach up and touch the universe, to whisper about the baring of souls.
And sometimes, you know, we just go to the grocery store and buy bread, and maybe some milk.