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Wednesday, December 26, 2012

I need you

Three little words. So simple, the same amount of syllables as "I love you." But for me, so much harder to say.

I don't like my neediness. I shun it and reject it, tell myself it's inappropriate. Part of that may be my own wariness about other people's neediness. It's been my experience that, while some may just need a bit of support now and then, others (if you let them) will feed on your life force. The Takers. I have no tolerance for them, and if I feel like I'm going to be one, I withdraw.

All kidding aside, most of you know the holidays bring me down for various reasons. This year, I did exactly what I wanted to do -- nothing. There were no obligatory family gatherings with John. He was going on Monday to his mom's nursing home for Xmas dinner, but he knows I will not go there again and he doesn't ask me to. And as it happened, my client had just sent me a nearly 400-page manual to proofread. So I figured Monday and Tuesday, I'd stay home and work. Easy, right?

Not sure what happened. Everyone was fine; even my upstairs neighbors were cooperating and were quiet. I knocked down about 200 of those pages, plus going to the gym Monday, so I felt virtuous. John and I talked on the phone both Monday and Tuesday. But I felt lonely. I was sad that I can't seem to enjoy what other people are enjoying at this time of year. And as much as I felt like being with another human being, the thought of getting dressed and made up and going out was unacceptable.

It didn't help that I was watching an old sitcom episode (circa 1975) on AntennaTV, and saw my mother in the party scene. She used to be an extra, throughout the 1970s and part of the 80s, and did a lot of shows. She looked so young and pretty and alive, in a beautiful blue evening gown I don't remember seeing before. It made my heart hurt.

I knew Mr. D was incredibly busy with his kids visiting, with family and friends and shopping and preparing his house for company and all that, so I left him alone. Figured he'd touch base with me sooner or later. But by last evening (Tuesday, Christmas night), I hadn't heard anything from him. I'd sent him a light and friendly text, but he hadn't answered it. I'd sent an e-card, but it had gone unopened. And when I called him, he didn't pick up.

Yes, I'm freaking insane. My mind goes to dark places. But by 10:30 last night, I was convinced something awful had happened to him. After all, he always returns texts. He always returns calls. And it wasn't like him to go so many days without checking in with me, even if it was just for a minute. If something had happened -- if he was in the hospital (or worse) -- how would I know? It's not like I'm a family member. Still, when I'd called, I'd left a message, but I purposely didn't make it sound needy. Just said that I hoped he was having a good holiday, and were we still on for Wednesday?

This morning, no text and no phone call. So I called again, and this time he picked up. Whew. He's not dead. He sounded hoarse and exhausted, apologized for not getting back to me, but he'd had a houseful of people and hadn't gone to bed until 2:30 a.m. Then he said, "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to postpone today; I'm just wiped out."

I wanted to get off the phone immediately. I didn't want him to hear the neediness in my voice, the tears that were already starting. But he did hear it. "Are you OK? Talk to me."

"I can't," I said. "You have to. Please," he said. He kept insisting until I hesitantly told him that I'd thought something had happened to him and my head went south.

"Tell you what," he said. "I have a bunch of kids in the house right now, but let me make sure they're squared away, and I'll get away for a couple of hours and come see you."

"No!" I cried. I didn't want to disrupt his day. "You're exhausted! You've got so much going on! Please don't, it's OK, I don't want you to. You need to get some rest."

Very gently, but also very firmly, he replied, "I can take care of myself. What I do for my own welfare is up to me, not you. Thank you for caring, though. I want to come over. You need me to; I can hear it in your voice."

Goddammit. I didn't want him to hear that fucking need. "But you just said you were wiped out," I said in a small voice.

"It's been crazy here," he admitted. "But good crazy. Fun. A little overwhelming, but I love it. I've had a hectic and wonderful few days. But I want to see you, too. That's not a chore. That's something I need, too."

What could I say. I really, really needed to see him. So we agreed on 1:00. He said he could only stay a couple of hours; I told him that was fine.

We talked for a long time after he arrived. He felt bad that he hadn't been in touch with me, and I felt silly and childish. I kept apologizing for my neediness, and he kept telling me to please stop that. "I'm not supposed to be needy!" I said. "I'm supposed to be fun!"

"You are fun," he said. "But listen to me. I like all of you. If I'm going to be your top, I want it all -- laughing, crying, happy, grumpy, bitchy, sassy. Do you get that? Are you starting to get that?"

I nodded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

"Yes."

"You need a really good spanking, don't you."

I sighed. "I don't know what I need."

"It's all right if you don't. I do."

He took me by the hand and led me into my room, setting up the pillows on the bed. I assumed the position, and he pulled my leggings down. "I'm a little upset with you," he said. His voice was calm. "I wish you had told me outright that you needed to talk to me, to see me. I wish you had trusted me enough to know I'd care enough to make a window for you." Then he began to spank me.

"Do you know I care about you?" he asked. "Yes," I answered. "How do you know?" "Because you're here," I bawled. I'd started crying again from the very first strike.

"Then say it," he said, continuing. "I want to hear 'I know you care about me' after every swat."

Somehow, I managed to blubber that out each time. "Yes, I do care," he said. "And you won't ever forget that, will you? You'll never doubt it again?"

"No," I sobbed. "I won't." He then went to my implement drawer. I didn't have to look; I knew what he was getting.

That wooden heart paddle bit and stung fiercely, but I welcomed it. I squirmed and my feet twisted together, but I held my position. Soon, I was crying so hard I couldn't say the phrase anymore. He stopped.

It didn't have to go on for a long time. He'd made his point.

Sorry, y'all -- no pictures this time. Too personal.

"Shhhhhh," he whispered. "It's OK. You're OK. Come here." And he gathered me close. I wept and wept, but these were different tears. The bitterness was gone, and they were as sweet and clean and pure as rain.

At 3:30, he had to go. He asked several times if I was OK now. I was more than OK, and could send him off with a smile.

After he got home, he called, just to make sure once again that I was all right, that all was good. "I'm great," I said. "Thank you. So much."

He made me promise that next time I get in that sort of head space, I will let him know. Not with a light-hearted message, but a direct and honest expression of my need. This is what he wants.

I hesitated, and he added, "I know it's hard for you. I know I'm re-wiring you. But promise me." I did.

I will.

22 comments:

  1. This hits very close to home. I'm glad he handled it the right way, you deserve it! :-) *hug*

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  2. Aw... Erica.... you must be very special to him. You're not needy - you just sometimes need each other. :)

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  3. Erica,

    What a beautiful post... this also hits close to home for me. I think as strong women we often see this kind of vulnerability as a weekness. I love that Mr. D was able to listen past your silence and hear exactly what you needed and honored the moment. There is so much love in that.

    xo,
    SC

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  4. Lily -- thank you, sweetie.

    SnP -- I will try to keep that in mind. ♥

    SC -- he's a very good man. I could see that in him the first time we met, when he was talking on the phone with his daughter. I could hear the kindness. And you're right -- I feel like I should be *above* vulnerability and neediness. Which is, of course, ridiculous.

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  5. I teared up a bit just reading this. This time of year can be tough and I can get where you are coming from with some of this. I hope you're feeling more settled now. Mr. D sounds like a wonderful and attentive guy. Has he been married before? It takes a few years to interpret woman speak. Lol.

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  6. Don't be so hard on yourself. Everybody needs friends. It is not being needy.

    For pete's sake, I was a cop for 25 years. I had to keep a mixture of hardness and kindness in my approach to people, but I had to be able to laugh sometimes.

    We are all human.

    John

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  7. I can completely relate to the feeling of being needy and rejecting it, hiding behind a false bravado and light hearted laugh. People don't want to be around others who are needy and might suck the life out of them, so I've always tried very hard not to be that. Then others complain that I have a tall brick wall around me--sometimes there is no winning!

    You are indeed fortunate that Mr. D can read you so well. The holidays are a hard time for so many of us. That is why I have often welcomed work during the holidays. This has been a particularly easy year for me, but I wanted so badly to call my dad on the phone the other day... the problem is he passed away three years ago.

    I hope the good feelings that Mr. D left you with will be enough to see you through till next week! While I'm not happy to hear of your private sorrow, I am grateful that you choose to share your thoughts and feelings here. Big hug to you!

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  8. Wow, this was beautiful. I think I may have something in my eye. Thank you for sharing, Erica.

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    1. Ooops! I'm sorry I missed you, Anonymous. Thank you so much. Might want to get that eye checked. :-)

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  9. Erica, I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you should be proud of being able to see your MOTHER, as an extra in a nostalgic sitcom on TV. Yes, the recent holidays might make you sometimes feel blue. But the coming of the New Year 2013, might bring some good cheer into your life, so here's to your voluptous BARE BUNS. XXX I luv ya.

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  10. Hi Erica -- This is a BEAUTIFUL post,it brought tear's to my eye's as well.This also hit's close to home for me too.Don't be so hard on yourself,everyone need's good friend's and we are all human and have feeling's and need's :-)I like how Mr.D knew you needed him and he came over,that say's it all for itself :-)He is a GREAT Top,he is VERY caring and understanding,I am so happy that you have him cause many other's are not as lucky.Thank's for sharing this personal post :-)I Love you my VERY dear friend.Big hug's alway's from Naughty Girl Jade xoxo

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  11. Lea -- yes, he was married once, and has two teenagers by that marriage. I do feel much more settled and calmer today, thanks. :-)

    John -- I forget that sometimes. I want to be superhuman. :-)

    Dana -- thank you, dear. I think I will be fine for a while now. Most of the holidays are over, I still have plenty of work to do and I'll be with John this weekend. Mr. D screwed my head back on straight.

    Six -- I don't mind at all. I AM proud; I'm proud of all that my various family members accomplished in TV. It was just a shock to see her, looking the way I remembered, before she became the way she was before she died.

    Jade -- you're right, I am lucky and I am grateful.

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  12. There are so many reasons why I cherish your blog and am so admire you....this post is just beautiful, real, caring and well hits home with all of us. Being needed, that is an amazing feeling trust me...as is being needy in the right way, you handled this the right way. I love you for being so honest and self analytical. Wow, trust me it feels like heaven when someone we care about and who happens to be so beautiful as you are, need us, I love that feeling and you gave tjat to your partner.
    This is one powerful and honest post, thank you for sharing.
    What I love as well is it puts our needs for spanking or being spanked in the right frame for all who are into it to understand. Spanking and being spanked is more than just sex; it is a need and a want. Amazing my lovely lady, just amazing!!

    Thank you for making this so real and so close to home.

    Well spanked as needed.

    Always
    Ron

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    1. And thank you for no pictures, that is another reason this post is so amazing!
      Always
      Ron

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  13. This is a really beautiful, moving account of a beautiful relationship, between two wonderful people.
    And a great example of what s good spanking, in the best of cases, may be.

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  14. Ron -- thank you. Definitely for me, spanking is not about sex, even though it's a turn-on physically. It's a connection, physical and emotional.

    MrJ -- lovely words; thank you! :-)

    Alisha -- mine too, for sure. ♥

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  15. Erica, this is one of the best posts I have read. It is so eloquent. I can relate to this so well because there are times when I feel "needy." Especially when my top holds me afterward. And to think I figured I didn't need that. Of course, I'm not "supposed" to have those needs; an old message I somehow got when I was young. I crave it, though.

    Like you, spanking isn't about sex for me, either. It is all about the connection, feeling cared for, and loved in a special way. There is nothing like it.

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  16. Bobbie Jo -- thank you, sweetie. You're right; for some of us, it is a very special kind of love. (I admit, it arouses the hell out of me. But I don't feel the need to do anything with that. I just enjoy the feelings.)

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  17. You have a true friend in Mr. D.

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  18. This is all very awesome. I want to say it restores my hope in men...but I guess really, it just restores my hope in the the ability for good people to find other good people. Yay for you guys!

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  19. Bonnie-jo -- and those good people include good men! :-)

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