What part of me thought that, just as He brought me to my knees and made me more vulnerable than ever, after I opened myself up to him, he would back away and leave me be? A very stupid part of me must have thought that. I can be quite a foolish girl sometimes.
He didn't back off. What kind of owner would he be if he didn't exploit that opportunity to break down my last defenses? He is a very good owner, so I suppose I just answered my own question.
The unfair thing was that I was fragile going into that day. I hadn't gotten over the events of the previous weekend. I was still feeling a little off-kilter. I don't often fantasize about sweet, languorous romantic sex, but that was really all I was ready for that day. I didn't feel that incredible aching need to be hurt, to be obliterated. I needed to be held and cradled and babied.
But, I don't know if you've noticed, I don't get a choice anymore. No, that's not exactly right - sometimes he gives me a choice, but I don't have the right to one. He was going hard on me that day and most of it was psychological. My perfect weakness.
I started thinking about everything that had changed in my life since we started and about all those things that had changed within me. I had lost so much.
That girl that I used to be, the one who would walk down the street with her head held high but who was certain that everyone was judging her (and that she came up short in everyone's estimation), that girl was gone. She was always scared and she was defensive and she was brittle and she was mean. But she was safe. No one could get close enough to touch her.
I missed her so suddenly, so acutely. Why had he destroyed her? She was flawed, but she was mine. She protected me. She had been with me through so much.
She was a liar and a fraud, but at least she didn't owe anything to anyone. She lied to Him in the beginning because it wasn't like he was going to love me anyway. She didn't think that love was possible, not for me, not after everything. She was looking after herself. Love, the possibility of real love didn't matter.
She knew there were ugly things about me, things so foul that he would leave me if he found out. She knew that I was a terrible person and she knew that I didn't deserve even the most fleeting moments of happiness.
God, she hated me so much. She was the one that cut me and told me that I was worthless. She sabotaged everything that I ever did because she thought she had to hurt me before anyone else did. She was just trying to help me. She didn't know that she was the problem all along.
Losing her had been the hardest thing in my whole life. All of those breakups and heartaches were nothing compared to this. Now that I think about it, how much of that pain had been her fault in the first place? She had blinded me to so much for so long. It was time for her to go.
So what is left? Vulnerability and exposure and risk - of losing and being left, certainly. But also closeness and intimacy and growth. Trust, trusting Him with my life and trusting myself. No more sabotage and no more lying for cover. No more dishonesty. No more hate.
And a different kind of strength, one that still lets me walk down the street with my head held high. But now I don't care who's looking and whether they're judging me. Just let them. I know who I am. He loves me. And I deserve every bit of that love.