We are in a battle against smalldickmotherfuckers.
Definition: Anyone or anything interfering with what otherwise would be a wonderful life.
For us, it is corporate politics where high level positions are being targeted by low level scum.
For others, it is illness or loss, aging, etc.
Under the microscope.
A gun to my head.
I hate this place.
I wake to anxiety but find strength when I hear Eric's voice, "the conversation is for us, we are in this together, hang with me, I'm not going anywhere".
The job has changed again. Three days apart, I complained incessantly. Now the travel becomes three weeks, potentially three months at a time. It's calculatingly savvy, financially right, and in the long run worth all of the sacrifices.
Each lonesome day adds one more penny to the jar of this relationship and it will ultimately become a lifetime of unlimited adventure and shared experiences. Patience is key.
Let's dance, smalldickmotherfuckers. The days, months, years will pass and we will continue to put "one foot in front of the other" (Click here for song from Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.) toward true love and happiness; while you sniveling shits will be left to rot alone in this dust bowl of filth. No, I'm not bitter. I'm determined. This has become a game of willpower and Eric is not the type to lose.
Self discipline will undoubtedly return in an attempt to battle the overthinking side of the female mind. Lucky for me, Spanking Theater posted a self spanking guide this morning.
I'm not by myself yet, with company here for the week and then I'll visit my favorite beach spot for some therapeutic sandy saltwater sunshine. In no time, it'll be back to the books as I muddle through a couple semesters.
My heart is burning with love for Eric and a deep seeded resolve to make all of our dreams come true has set itself stubbornly in my mind, the same way I buckle down for a hard but necessary thrashing with his belt. Someone wrote, "You are a beautiful woman with a beautiful body who happens to need regular discipline to be the best that you can be and that's okay." That someone could have been Eric.
I'm tired of feeling like the rug is constantly being pulled out from under us when we work so hard for everything we have. We always put others in front of our own needs and desires. When do we get time for us?
I may be a bad girl but I'm not a bad person and the situation is heartbreaking to say the least. I bounce between anger, fear, determination, hope, guilt, longing, joy - a regular emotional smorgasbord that is easily tamed with a trip over Eric's knee and a cuddle on his lap. Not sure what to do when he can't be home. Literally here two days in August, maybe only one in September. Thank goodness for cell phones and Facetime.
Our relationship is one of great quality, but extremely limited quantity right now. We can do this. One foot in front of the other... watch out you smalldickmotherfuckers. Eric will do the job and I will wait it out but in the end, you will take nothing from us.