I became a believer a few years ago. I walk in faith, you know, believing in something you cannot see. Every now and then fear rears its ugly horns (and pitchfork) and I am sitting in the discomfort zone of hell!
This was a doozy of a misunderstanding between the Captain and I. However, to him it was much, much more. Of course I couldn’t leave well enough alone by listening to him tell me to stop pressing the issue. He just wasn’t ready for the conversation yet. He was absolutely right in his thinking and I ended up with what I deserved. A couple of days to think about what I was going to do differently and how!
As I was headed to one of my favorite jogging trails, I felt tears of confusion well up and I asked God to give me clarity. “Please just put me heavy on the Captain’s heart so we can move past this”. I had just barely parked the car, engine still running and a text came through, “I’ll pick you up for breakfast at 8:45…” Praise You God!!
Needless to say, I skipped my run, flew home, dolled up with what little time I had and soon I was sitting in the truck, quietly waiting his cues. He gave me ample opportunity to open the bag of worms, but instead, I continued to make small talk and fiddle with breakfast while gazing out the window. I watched as others came in enjoying their day. Why is it that it always appears to me that the entire world is walking on sunshine when the pit of my stomach is burning? I continued to wait for that precise moment to begin my apologies, but it never seemed to come.
We ate, stopped off at the store, he took me home and I stood there in the doorway, dumbfounded still not knowing what to say or do, but the flooding of words were spilling over inside my head. I fumbled for what to say. He left. I panicked. Again, I asked God, “WTF do I do now? (He already forgave me for my foul acronym) You gave me a window. Shit, You ripped off the siding and still I said nothing!”
My instructions were, “deep breath, get in car, be responsible, take care of business first, then proceed to his door”. I did exactly what was put on my heart. I knew he’d be sitting in his office and see me the second I approached the door. As I put my hand on the doorknob, I could see the look of, “why the fuck are you here?” on his face. I asked permission to enter as I turned the knob, he nodded. I made a silly, break the ice comment, went pee and came back, “can I try this again, please?”
After a lengthy, productive, mature, long overdue conversation, (some teary on my part) he stood up, turned me around and gentle pushed me towards the bedroom as piece by piece he stripped me down. The gentleness was gone. Punishment came first, as well it should. My disobedience and disrespect had to be dealt with. I felt just how angry he had been for a day and a half as the sting from every swat brought a tear of relief to my eyes.
Angry, make up sex is very fucking sexy. Not that I plan to get my red ass in trouble again anytime soon, or on purpose. I would much rather have the discipline be for our erotic pleasure. I was however, very sad, still am, that he told me he threw my toys away. “They have to be earned” was his reply to my, “you did??!” Oh, I will earn them back, and then some!