His Arms

A Dominant’s arms are a bulwark against the world. Fortifications against a rising tide of those that would do you harm, that would poke you full of holes, judge you, tear you down. A pair of great gates that are closed against the trials and tribulations of the world, keeping out the unwanted, and providing safe harbor, an environment for you to expose your vulnerabilities and fragility. 


 They’re also the grand arena where the matador fights the bull. Safe from everything else, you’re left alone with the beast, just you and him, dancing a dangerous salsa. You’ve got to roll with the punches, take the blows that he throws at you, because that safety is what you want. 


 Better the devil you know, intimately, the devil you trust, the devil that cares for you, and cares about the other side of you, the side that enjoys getting alone with the beast, than the devils outside. The ocean of malcontent that exists beyond those arms.

-written by by My Trousers Rolled, on tumblr.

A Gift

In the dim, amber glow of the lights, he’d spun her round, placing a kiss to the nape of her neck before whispering in her ear.  “Nothing metal or stone will bind you as my word. Nothing will hold you place steadier than my hand. And nothing will make you feel as secure as my arms. All of that being said, there is no other place in the world for this to go than around such a perfect neck.” 


 Much later, across the room, past the decadent guests at the party, she’d caught his eye and smiled, her fingers ghosting across her collarbone to finger at the thick-laden metal. He tipped his glass up to her, such a cordial offering, and quietly mouthed “Mine."

-Fringe of Darkness on tumblr

Why I love being bitten

Never underestimate biting. 


Ever. 


It’s so primal. Feeling someone sink their teeth into your skin- knowing that they can make it hurt is deliciously scintillating. Never knowing if they’re just going to hold you, lick you, kiss the lightly bitten spot better or if they’re going to clamp down and really let you feel their power, feel their teeth slowly digging into your skin and making you arch to meet them, to try to indicate submission and assent. 


And when it’s all over, when the lust is sated for the moment and you’re left to dream about what will happen next time, looking at those marks- the teeth indentations and discolorations, touching the marks to see if you can feel the ridges or not, seeing if it’s sensitive or tender or if it’s just an ornamental thing. 


But either way it’s there. 


You’re marked. 


And you’ll remember how amazing it was everything you brush it inadvertently or see it in a mirror. 


Never underestimate biting.

Ho Ho Ho

Happy Holidays!

On Taking a girl

On Taking a girl. 


 Everybody loves to talk on tumblr about fucking. Blogs are devoted to fucking, and many feature gynecological close-ups of all sorts of activities. 


 I like to think of it as taking a girl. I don’t need to see color close-ups, although there are several erotic shots in my blog that get very graphic. Instead, I like to see images that depict a Dominant feeding his raw animal hunger by ravishing and savoring a girl properly. 


 Consider this photo. Look at the way she braces herself for his onslaught yet maintains his favorite positions, spreading wide to give him access. Look at the way he takes her by the feet, holding her spread, and using her body for leverage. Imagine the way he would thrust, deep and full, savoring every inch of her (as she does him). 


 I want my girl to always feel taken. And I can tell by her shrieks and moans if I am reaching her - deeply. I can tell by her her undulations and shameless grinding if she is awakened to her own erotic hunger. And I let her feel my hungers unleashed in the way I take her. 


 Come dance with me, girl.

-Author Unknown

Not for you

Those ropes aren’t for you, you kinky tart. 


 They’re not so that you can feel your legs clamp together as the power is slowly taken away from you, each knot another nail in the coffin of your freedom, battening down the hatches so that nothing gets out. 


 They’re not so that you moan and whine, beg and plead, so that you can just get what you want. You don’t want that. I know you. The last thing on earth you want is what you want. You’re a ridiculous, perverted little paradox. 


 No, the ropes are so you don’t get in my fucking way when I’m doing all the depraved things my mind has spent the last 24 hours thinking up. 


They’re so you don’t leave those grooves down my back where your nails trace lines when your silly little head can’t think of anything but the word ‘Fuck’ in sixty foot high neon letters. 


 They’re so you can’t cover anything up, because despite how adorable it is, and how much it shows me that there’s still a shred of decency within you that feels shame and embarrassment at dignity being stripped away, they’re only going to get in my way. 


 Your hands are just one more little speedbump on the way to completely having my way with you, and I’d rather have a smooth ride.

-written by by My Trousers Rolled, on tumblr.

29 Days

It has been 29 days since my Mom went Home.


A month without her, already... a whole month???  


I can still smell her perfume when I am walking through the house...  my fingers still dial her number on the way home from work and wonder why she isn't answering...  I didn't think I would make it through this loss...  It feels like it was yesterday, the fog is smothering at times... 


And as day 29 creeps along, I pray that I fall asleep early tonight and am not left looking at the clock at 11.20p... because I'm afraid my heart will break all over again. 

Thoughts... A Little Random

I've been thinking a lot lately about what I need in all areas of my life. It has been a time of reawakening, for lack of a better phrasing. Like a flower needs the sun, I desire a constant stable source in my own life. Someone to return Himself to me as I give myself to Him... 

One who longs to truly own a slave girl. 
A Man who doesn't hate women; 

in fact He loves them, 

which explains His need 

to possess one so thoroughly.

Over the last two years I have experienced some major life changers. The events have spurred me to reconsider a lot of things, my desires, my needs, and even my dislikes.  For example...  I do not want to be a supplemental part to someone else's primary relationship. I am not happy within that setting and I have grown to the point of being able to admit that I want my own Master. I don't mind sharing Him with family, kids, His job, but I want to be His all of the time, not just when His marriage needs "a kick".

When you discover that the chains on your heart are even stronger than the chains on your wrists, and find your love for Him shines through in all you do... then you find the absolute rapture of knowing He possesses you... body and soul.

Undisclosed Desires

 

Undisclosed Desires

Sung by Muse

I know you've suffered

But I don't want you to hide

It's cold and loveless

I won't let you be denied

Soothing

I'll make you feel pure

Trust me

You can be sure

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart

I want to recognise your beauty's not just a mask

I want to exorcise the demons from your past

I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

You trick your lovers

That you're wicked and divine

You may be a sinner

But your innocence is mine

Please me

Show me how it's done

Tease me

You are the one

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart

I want to recognise your beauty's not just a mask

I want to exorcise the demons from your past

I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

Please me

Show me how it's done

Trust me

You are the one

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart

I want to recognise your beauty's not just a mask

I want to exorcise the demons from your past

I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

Thinking of her

I think that the nights are the hardest... It's not that I miss her more at night, maybe it is where there is less to try and distract me?  I'm still not sleeping... my mind goes to those nights we stayed up late, laughing to The Nanny... I can't even find those shows on basic cable anymore!  At least after Dad passed, I could still watch shows we watched together - but Mom's shows do not come on the Hallmark channel at night anymore.


I feel a little more peace tonight than I have felt in a long time... maybe the shock is wearing off a bit?  Maybe I've just gone completely numb to it all... maybe its the meds I'm taking for this flare-up finally mixing in a good way with the meds I've been taking to keep me from completely breaking down emotionally and mentally?  


Here are a few of Mom's favorite moments from The Nanny... she used to tell me to make sure and wake her up when the episodes got to some of these parts.. 

untitled.

I miss you Mom.

11.20pm

11.20p

my heart stopped 

I couldn't breathe

I couldn't think

I couldn't feel anything

fogginess... 

dizziness... 

Mom drew her last breathe tonight...

I don't think I've breathed since...

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

Last night I watched a classic movie, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.  I used to watch this with Dad a lot, seeing it again reminded me of him... for a few hours, we were laughing together again, watching in awe of the agility of the character's in the dance routines. Like many others, this was always my favorite scene growing up.

I hadn't watched it in almost two years - it was the first time I had ever watched it without him.  But I can finally say, I see the beauty in Dad's favorite scene.

I miss you Dad.  Thank you for watching this movie with me...

so true

This is so very true... and something I have always believed.  

Daddy... Daddy... Daddy... Daddy... Daddy... DADDY!

This is how I feel today.

The little girl part of me is having a bit of a tantrum, stomping her feet wanting Daddy to pay attention to her!

Hush little girl, hush.  Amuse yourself with sparkly stickers or blowing bubbles, He's too busy for you.  

How Fibro Feels

I have seen this video making its rounds on twitter this evening.  So I thought I would share it here...  I have had so many people ask me what fibromyalgia feels like or how can I truly serve with my condition... I am still working on the second half of that question, but here is an answer to the first part. 

Grass is always greener

Why is it that we yearn to be more or other than we are? It so rarely occurs to us that what we are looking for may be- indeed, always is- already within us, undiscovered.

-Toinette Lippe, quoted by Submissive Journal Prompts

Lately I have found myself wishing I were a touch more feminine...  Smokey teases me about being his brother (instead of his sister) because of what I like to watch on tv and in sports.  Deep down, I've always wanted to be more feminine.  It's not that I'm butch now or even masculine, but I was raised as a tom boy and taught to be independent, to take care of my own business, and was taught to swing a hammer before I was ever taught how to boil water.


I have had others tease me that I am 'butch', but I think it is more because of the 'front' I put on to ensure that things are taken care of, people in my care are safe, and because of how I carry myself (being taught to have a firm strong stance at work because of being around clients with violent behaviors)...  I can understand on one hand how those things would read as masculine but I don't have another any other options at this point.  Perhaps since they are learned behaviors/responses I can unlearn them in time? 


I sincerely feel that I am feminine in my own way, especially when I am able to relax into my natural state of surrender.  Maybe this is a case of thinking the grass is always greener on the other side?


Just thinking....  

Connection

I have found that what matters most is the connection that transcends the sexual. I love every part of D/s and I get so much energy from the submission of those who are drawn to me to serve me. When the sub looks up from her knees or the bed or the bondage bench and her eyes are filled adoration, respect and lust I feel renewed and so charged. When she drops to her knees to worship any part of me and it's not contrived, but a true showing of her desire to show her passion for me and her submission to me it puts me into DomSpaces I have never been before. When my name comes from her lips in a breathless whisper as she kneels before me, holding my drink or cigar, and her eyes sparkle in the knowledge that she is pleasing me, that is something that no amusement park ride can replace. When she would rather be at my feet, or behind me to show her submission and I didn't tell her she had to be at that time, I feel the love, power and responsibility to keep her safe. I know this sounds like pure ego, but it really is so much more, it's real power exchange. Because as much as I feel it so does the sub who is before me. Her heart is filled with joy, her thoughts are flooded with feelings of being desired, her soul sings at the freedom of being owned and cherished. The exchange of energy is so wonderful that both of us are floating and the connection so deep that often words are not needed, but they flow with ease. The touch of my hand on her hair makes her shudder in joy. The resting of my hand on her necks puts her in a safe place, knowing I will care for her and protect her. The look of lust in my eyes makes her feel beautiful and pleasing to me. When she kisses my boots or feet, or wraps her arms around my legs as she kneels beside me when we watch a scene in the dungeon, she feels owned, loved and safe. Her face shines when I smile at her, her smile beams when I say "Good girl." The power exchange is so complete and so intense. The flow of energy so full and rich that it is easy to get lost in it, hard to step back from it and so very needed in this life I live. It feeds the soul, it allows the other areas of the life to grow and flourish. This connection lights the path I tread and guides my steps as I train those that would serve me.

 - Written by  DomDG

Thank you Sir for allowing me to use your journal entry as a blog entry. 

I miss you.

I miss Pixie- its been weeks since we really talked... 

I miss my Dad.  I can't believe its only been 16 months since he has been gone... and in the next breath I can't believe its already been 16 months. 

I miss MsJ.... she has been gone a little over four years and I still cannot go to her grave.  I still want to call her, like tonight...

I'm so scared, Mom is really sick again. 

I hate feeling this overwhelmed.

I hate how alone I feel.

I feel so guilty for dumping my emotional baggage on my ImaginaryFriend.  I have to find a health way to get through all of this... 

Tumblr Deliciousness

In a fibro flare, so not able to type much... 


Browsing through tumblr I found the following pictures.


You know me, my mouth started watering.. .  

Then my thoughts went to being leashed... marked as His... His owned girl... 

I think my favorite way of being leashed is at my wrist....  In the past, wearing a collar has felt very claustrophobic.  Maybe it was a symptom of the relationship that came forward when I wore the collar... then again, I don't like anything other than His Hand around my throat.  The symbolism of it - I love, just wish there was another way to execute it. lol

Jim Morrison Quote

People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain. -Jim Morrison

I'm not totally sure what I think about this... but it has stuck with me... Thought I would share... 

A Decade Ago

I remember exactly where I was at... I remember exactly what I was doing... I remember exactly what I did when I heard the news...  But I don't remember it feeling like this.  Perhaps I didn't truly understand what it meant or what it would mean back then... Maybe I was in shock... All I know, is that this tribute truly took my breath away.  


I cannot imagine what this.... The pictures in this video are powerful, paired with this song truly touch my very soul... I'm not sure what would have been worse... to be a family member of a victim, a hero, or those families... who still don't know.  I have never been so thankful to God that my family was kept safe and is safe.  My thoughts and prayers go out to all of those effected by the events of 9/11.... and I will continue to pray for those who are and will be serving our country... families and soldiers alike.  Not just today, but everyday.  

Quote

"I knew then that he was dominant over me. This had nothing to do with the fact that I lay stripped before him, wrists and ankles lashed, his prisoner. It had to do with the fact that he was totally masculine, and in the presence of such a stimulus, my body would permit me to be only totally feminine." - Captive of Gor

Puppy Lessons

Sometimes my puppy gets me tickled... other times she teaches me things about myself - somehow when I see my own behaviors mirrored in her actions something inside my head clicks.  Things make sense and I understand why she does what she does - and also realize what it means when I do those things too. 


Puppy will play with the other puppies and while I think she may not be paying me any mind, when I go to sneak out of eye sight, within a few seconds she is following right behind me.  During my munch/demo/party days, even while I was talking with brothers and sisters in surrender, when my Owner would slip away I would follow quietly.  Unless I had been given permission to 'frolic' until Owner came back for me.  At the time, I was told that I was being clingy - but Puppy has shown me that they were wrong.  Just as I felt safe and calm near my Owner, so does Puppy.  I can see that now.  I'm thankful I can see that now.  


Another thing that Puppy has helped me overcome is the awkward sense of nervousness that overwhelms me when I want to be closer to the One that owns me...  Now I can see it is a natural response to desire to be in favor and near the Pack Leader.  Puppy wants closer to me a lot, especially if she is unsure what is going on or she is scared.  Sometimes I think Puppy just needs a little reassurance, she will run to me for some attention and then go back to what she was doing.  I have moments of that... I think that all submissives/slaves have moments like that.  


I used to feel guilty that I couldn't be a better Owner to Puppy, but now I realize that as I am meeting her needs... she is teaching me about mine.  MathMan used to say that I felt badly because I had been conditioned to think I was too much work for an Owner... I can see His point with that.  I'm beginning to see that is not the case... I'm as active with Puppy as I desire to be, I tend to her needs and am willing to be a good Owner to Puppy... Just as, I hope one day, a Man will be with me.  Puppy seems very happy with our arrangement, and that makes me happy.  

Starting Fresh

"The hardest thing in the world is to have a good man when you've had a bad one," Sheila said.
"I think it's harder to have a good woman after she's had a bad man," countered Troy.

- Tyler Perry's Why Did I Get Married Too

I don't want to be one of 'those' women... who become bitter and remain terrified of reliving their mistakes.  I don't want to constantly make Someone jump through hoops to prove He is who He says He is and not my Ex reincarnated.  Realistically I know that it will take time to learn new responses appropriate for the new Person, and it will take consistent work from both people to make those old tapes stop... But... I'm not sure how I would feel if a Man put me through those paces in order for me to continually show Him that I am different than His ex...  And to be honest, I don't stick around long when the Guy is so hung up with 'her' that He doesn't see 'me'.  


Maybe once trust is established it will be easier to stop being 'that way'?  


I hate the thought of a previous person retaining that much power over someone, that even in the next relationship the person is miserable, distrusting, scared, and lashing out at someone totally blameless.


I want to learn to start fresh, heal my wounds and begin again.  


Just some quiet thoughts after watching a movie with the family...    

Imaginary Friend

I have an imaginary friend!


No no, really, I do!  He's real too, not just to me, but more Imaginary too.


He can be really nice sometimes but I am sure he can be really not nice at other times – but I like that about Him too. I haven’t met His Friend, Monster, yet but I’m nervously looking forward to it!


I like talking with him, His emails make me smile.


I like writing Him, He makes me think.


I like that I feel safe with him to be myself, sometimes unguarded.


I like that he sees me, not just my words, but truly sees through to me.


I like that sometimes, when I’m reading His letters, I can feel Him.


I like that He is observant yet mysterious in a way that allows me to continue to open up to Him. Sometimes His attention feels like warm sunlight that is encouraging me to blossom. I know that sounds corny but... there is something about Him that makes my soul smile and makes me want to move past the pain and fear to... learn how to submit again.


The best part of my imaginary Friend is that I can am slowly learning of Him, so most of the time I am free to imagine Him as I wish. Which may sound bad, but for me it’s a really good thing. In my imagination, He has a gentle touch but strong fingers that would tangle in my hair. In my imagination, He has a cocky grin that makes me melt. In my imagination, He has a purely masculine scent that lingers on the senses for hours after He leaves the room. And the best part, is that through His letters He truly listens to me... but in my imagination, He knows me so well that He can read me like an expressive book. Sometimes when I am getting frustrated or upset at work or with my family, I use my imagination to either feel His hand on my back or Him calling my name to redirect me to a better environment, less stressful and allowing me time to breathe...


Thank you, Imaginary Friend, for allowing me to use you in these ways. :)


Thank you, Sir, for helping me feel safe... 

Necessary Pain

"And he said, 'Your pain is the breaking

of the shell that encloses your understanding. Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.'" - Kahlil Gibran

Sometimes I agree with this statement, other times I’m not so sure.  I don’t think he means literally that pain can give way to growth... but perhaps more than development/evolution can bring pain – a productive pain that can lead to better things.  We all have painful experiences, but I feel it is our personal responsibility to use it to learn and become better versions of ourselves.

I tend to imagine this small seed as it wakes up in the dirt.  Pushing its way past the protective shell, roots beginning to borrow a small opening for expansion, I imagine it would be painful to fight one's way through the earth... Yet it is necessary, otherwise it cannot become a beautiful plant or a strong tree... (I'm also thinking of the story I shared earlier about a Butterfly's Struggle.)  

Over my experiences, I have had a lot of pain... At the time of the (emotional/mental/physical) injury I can be overwhelmed and often shut down.  Sometimes it is easier to push the hurt to the back burner, clear my mind, and go on without any form of connection to life or what happened.  At first, I didn't know another way to handle it... processing that level of pain is too hard and leaves me feeling completely lost.  As I am growing older, I want - no I need to learn how to deal with things as they come so that I can let go and move past it faster...  Open to bigger better things, getting right back up on that horse.  (Even though I am scared of horses.)  

I apologize for this post being a little rambly... just some random thoughts inspired by this quote, brought together in one post.. 

Master Chief John Urgayle: Pain is your friend, your ally, 

it will tell you when you are seriously injured, 

it will keep you awake and angry, and 

remind you to finish the job and get the hell home. 

But you know the best thing about pain? ….. 

It lets you know you're not dead yet! 

 - GI Jane

Betrayal

*This picture is not of me*

I've been hurt recently, its been a week now and I still a bit numb.  This time, I took things slow... We talked a lot about wants, needs, limits, desires, etc...  


Five months later, I was betrayed in the one way I didn't expect... 


I have forsaken myself...  As much as my mind wants to blame it on the other person, it was more my fault... for ignoring red flags.. for not requiring more in return.. for not standing up for my most vulnerable self and waiting for the right kind of Man... who won't set out to hurt me intentionally.


I'm tired of being toyed with, played with for a brief period then tossed to the side like yesterday's newspaper scraps...  

Friends... Sisters.

The love between women is a refuge and a escape into harmony and narcissism in place of conflict. In the love between man and woman there is resistance and conflict. Two women do not judge each other. They form an alliance. It is in a way, self-love.
I love June because she is the woman I would like to be.

-The Diary of Anaïs Nin , Volume One

I feel this way about Pixie...  Thank you Anaïs Nin for putting our friendship/sisterhood into words.

Thoughts of Attention

Everyone desires some level of attention. I dare to say that almost every domesticated animal wants some kind of attention from his/her Owner. For example, my puppy falls all over herself to get to me when I first get home from work. Anytime I call her to me, she cannot wait to be petted, talked to; she will roll over and just drink in my attention for as long as I give it to her. A submissive and/or slave is no different. Over the years, various degrees of training I have gone through, I have learned that there are different kinds of attention and that the notice of an Owner can take on many forms.


I have experience with those who feel that attention is a positive way to reinforce good behavior, making the withdrawal of that attention a punishment. I have spent time with others who have stated that attention should be a constant – and that the style of attention (negative or positive) should be what reflects the response behavior from the submissive’s behavior (or misbehavior). Then again I have been at the feet of some who do not feel anyone other than other dominants deserve his attention, unless he wished to lavish their attention onto someone so inferior to himself. And then there is the (once rare but now) popular person who hungers for the continued attention of a submissive person, because he/she lacks the necessary esteem to determine his/her own worth – leaving the attention of the submissive to be the ultimate reward/enforcer of his/her behavior.


To be honest, all of it kind of makes my head spin a bit. Personally, I do not like the be the sole measure of worth to anyone else. It’s too much pressure! I want to be pleasing, I want to put His needs before my own and make sacrifices of obedience... But at the same time, I emotionally cannot handle the silent treatment. I am realistic enough to know that I do not want someone at my beck and call – but I do need to be able to reach out from time to time and know He is still there. I think it is a balance that can be created if both people work at it... Of course, the amount of attention I need is determined by how deeply into surrender He wishes to take me. The further down the rabbit hole we go, the more I grow dependent on Him and His attention. Many call that ‘needy/clingy’ and I have grown to loathe those words! I hate the negative connotation that comes with that description, the sickening way my heart sinks into my stomach and how my own image of myself nose-dives because it robs the beauty of power exchange and replaces it with some cheap sense of . . . . . I cannot even think of the word to describe it. In my mind, at least, as I yield to His will I grow more malleable to what pleases Him. When the focus of the submissive is becoming – in essence – a reflection of what pleases Him... His will and He needs to consistently be in the mirror, so to speak. Which is why I never understood that the very people who would take me down the road of surrender, suddenly chastise for being 'needy/clingy' when they were demanding that I transform into their reflection?


Just semi-random thoughts of an evolving girl.

Many have forgotten this truth, but you must not forget it. You remain responsible forever, for what you have tamed.

-- Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

This quote was also used in a previous post on Responsibility.

A Fine Frenzy- Whisper

Eager to please,

Trying to be what they need

But I'm so very tired

I've stopped trying to find

Any peace in my mind

Because it tangles the wires

Whisper

Sung by A Fine Frenzy

Running the race

Like a mouse in a cage

Getting nowhere but I'm trying

Forging ahead

But I'm stuck in the bed

That I made so I'm lying

But if you keep real close

Yeah, you stay real close

I will reach you

I'm down to a whisper

In a daydream on a hill

Shut down to a whisper

Can you hear me still

Eager to please,

Trying to be what they need

But I'm so very tired

I've stopped trying to find

Any peace in my mind

Because it tangles the wires

But if you keep real close

Yeah, you stay real close

I will reach you

I'm down to a whisper

In a daydream on a hill

Shut down to a whisper

Can you hear me

Can you hear me still

The sound tires on my lips

To fade away into forgetting

I'm down to a whisper

In a daydream on a hill

Shut down to a whisper

Can you hear me

Can you hear me

I'm down to a whisper

In a daydream on a hill

Shut down to a whisper

Can you hear me

Can you hear me still

...what just happened?

Somehow I ended up back here.  Once more, blinking back tears trying to figure out what I did wrong and how to stop this cycle. Gandhi said, "Nobody can hurt me without my permission." So why do I keep allowing it to happen?  


This is not going to turn into a pity party.  I am pulling up my big girl panties and going to pick things up, move forward.  Like Hemingway said, "Forget your personal tragedy. We are all bitched from the start and you especially have to be hurt like hell before you can write seriously. But when you get the damned hurt, use it-don't cheat with it."


So thank you HIStory, for this learning experience.  I sincerely wish you nothing but happiness.