We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you another nonsensical ramble from lil and her issues. Today's topic comes to you courtesy of an emotion known as resentment.
"I don't want to be good...Sometimes I resent it so much--the things you want me to do, doing as I'm told, not being in control..."
It's true. Sometimes I resent this power imbalance with all of my cold little heart.
"I know. That's okay." He replied, kissing my forehead.
Ever the over-thinker, I of course, asked why. I mean, how is that "Okay"?
"Because it shows that you are bending to my will. You resent it, yes, but you do it anyways because you are mine."
I had to think about this. You see, I always thought that resentment as a bad thing--I mean, it's not exactly gracious slaviness now, is it?
I certainly don't feel resentful all of the time, but when I do, I feel like I shouldn't. It had never occurred to me to view it as an acceptable, even desirable feeling.
Resentment is defined as, "a feeling of indignant displeasure or persistent ill will at something regarded as a wrong, insult, or injury"
Hmmm...And he's okay with that?
Because regardless of the emotion I'm feeling, or the situation of the moment, I will do as he wishes. I will eventually bend to his will. Always.
And it's easy isn't it, when the feelings are nice and you want to do what they want, even if only because they want it.
I'm not even always accepting of making that cup of coffee right now, (seriously, he has legs!) let alone happy about it. There's lots of silly little things in daily life, and it's just because he can. They aren't a big deal for me, but sometimes that feeling builds...And it becomes resentment.
And he pushes, sometime he'll even go out of his damn way just to provoke me.
Eventually, I will burst and the rudest of words will come out of my mouth, paving the way for how I really feel. Which isn't pretty.
He smiles that beautiful sweet smile
and grabs me by the throat
leaning in he whispers
that however I really feel is quite alright
because I will always, inevitably bend to his will regardless of those feelings.
And sometimes it's better that I hate it in the moment, that I resent what is asked of me,
that I struggle against his bonds because the bending is that much sweeter, and sometimes, the meaning becomes even deeper.
In that moment, struggling quietly for air, when he's staring into my eyes and it's okay to hate him just a little bit, in that moment, all of those things I felt disappear.
All I know is need for that peaceful sense of pleasing
all I know is that, no matter how much I resent it, being a slave to him is what makes me happy.
And often that means being a slave to his whims. Even when they are irrational and irritating.
When he smiles that beautifully dangerous smile, and I can feel the inevitability of his will wrapping around my soul...Then is when I know that I no longer need my walls, because the cage of his will is going to keep me safe. And this is why I accept whatever forms his control takes.