Sleep eluding me, I slipped out of bed. I tried not to wake Bear, as sleep tends to be difficult for him these days as well.

I just wanted to put this in writing, then I'm going to toss and turn for a few more hours until dawn breaks...

It's been so long since we last spoke that I can hardly remember the conversation. You often do this to me, this disappearing offline for months at a time. I've tried to convince myself that we have no connection, that our momentary friendship was what is was and now you have no need for it. But the truth is, I miss you. I miss the witty banter, the raw discussions about emotionally difficult subjects. I miss the you I may have conjured up in my head; in fact, that seems depressingly likely these days.

Anyway, I just felt like it needed to be put into the world. For better or for worse - at least I feel better.

It's been awhile, but I'm so used to writing fiction from the submissive point of view that I thought I'd switch it up a bit and write from the female dominant point of view (Yes, I do have a large amount of that in me even though I don't talk about it much). It's just a small portion and is, in fact, all I have finished so far...

As I sat in the corner of the room, pondering my next move, I could almost feel your heartbeat in the air. A palpable sound (thump-thump thump-thump), it pulsed around me and jolted me back into the present moment and away from my thoughts.

I allowed my eyes to stray to your form, standing on tiptoes in the middle of the room, your arms straight above you and your back arched in an almost vulgar manner. The soft rubbing noise of the rope twisting and straining against your weight was soothing to me. My creative juices flowing, I pressed off against the chair and stalked toward you on black stiletto heels.

I could see your skin jump and flinch with every click of heel against hardwood floor. I walked slowly, then quickly, circling you like a caged tiger as your ears struggled to make sense of what your blindfolded eyes were unable to tell you. I could feel the panic rising again in you, your terror mixed with the scent of arousal on the air. It was a heady smell, a smell that set off a galaxy of reaction inside me.

I took a deep breath, my nostrils flaring as I attempted to intake as much of your musk as possible. My body came to rest inches from your back; I slowly slid my mouth towards your bare shoulder making as little noise as I could. I stood that way for a minute or so, my breath pressing against your shoulder as I listened to your tiny panting breaths rise and fall. I contemplated how to break this silence, my breath slowing to an almost sleeping rhythm. I needed it to be a stunning gesture, a motion that would foreshadow the rest of the evening. Flipping through the rolodex in my head, I decided quickly.

There are times when, simply put, I'm antagonistic. My Libran nature pushes me to argue and revolt against everything, no matter how much I believe in what's being said.

That's how I've felt lately, especially about writing. You say black, I say white. You say cat, I say dog. And I mean white and dog. I just haven't felt like writing about much because I'm not feeling "in the mood" for much. I'm taking little pleasure in the day to day living and focusing too much on the future.

Who knows if there is a future? Certainly not me. Which means, logically, I should quit dwelling in it, suck it the fuck up and live.

Easier said than done.

Here I am, neglecting this blog and not giving it a second thought, when I decided to stumble back and check my comments.

Big mistake.

Darling Jill, as much as I love her to tiny bite-sized pieces, can deliver such a kick to the head it isn't even funny. Even with back problems.

Yes, I'm a pussy. Apparently. Change does freak me out sometimes and I have the urge (that I usually act on) to just throw everything up into the air to see where it lands. Small change doesn't sit well with me - I push on through large change and start completely new. Having people watch my process makes me uncomfortable, and I already have a tendency to run instead of explain.

But I started this blog years ago as an outlet. Yes, the subjects I currently need to vent about have changed dramatically, but there are still "things." Am I going to give up on writing here and start worrying about what people will thing of my changes? No. I'm stronger than that. Bless you and fuck you for reminding me of that, Jill. *grin*