Alpha and Omega

I have censored myself a lot here, for entirely too long...I'd say this post is a pretty official marking of the end of that crap.

I have been avoiding this post for some time. Life's events have completed it for me though, so thought and feeling now finally make their way into print.

I have thought a lot about names used in Blogland and not duplicating those used on other blogs. As much as possible anyways. It's great how the best laid plans like to bite you in the ass and die...
Funny thing is, the Omega to his Alpha was apparently inevitable here.

Names carry a certain degree of importance. The choice to call my husband "Alpha" here originated from the wolf pack--the alpha is top dog. There are of course, other connotations which did not play part in my original choice of the name--Alpha and Omega, the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet. Alpha and Omega, God as the beginning and the end.

Alpha...the beginning, the one, he shaped me, made me what I am today. He is my forever and always. Omega...The ending, the last one to whom I'll ever kneel, the only other one for whom I'll ever feel, the one who appeared along the way. A forever and always as one meant to be in our lives. Alpha's brother from another mother, as they would say back home.
Alpha and Omega, god as beginning and end...Because on my knees, in that moment he is god. Because on my knees in that moment, there is nothing but naked truth, I'll confess my sins and feed the need. Because while I have never knelt to god as a construct, on my knees is where I pray. And in that moment, he/they are Alpha and Omega. Every time.

He needs a name here because, while the offer has been declined, he will be part of our story. Regardless of circumstance or physical events--I will serve him. The form taking perhaps something beyond what we commonly think of, because service is about what the one being served actually needs and desires, and it takes on many forms.
He is part of our story because never has another evoked such trust in either of us, never has another displayed the loyalty and beauty of character, never has another felt as we feel him. He is part of our story because, no matter what, either of us or our children could call him from anywhere at 2 am, and he would be there; because no matter what or where, if he calls at 2 am in need, one of us will be there for him. Always. These are rare and unique truths, applicable only to him.

Somehow I had forgotten how absolutely terrifying it can be, experiencing the compulsion to be honest that being what I am inspires in me. The terrible fucking sense of horror and wrongness when I'm down and feel like I have displeased, been kicked out of that space on my knees...
I had come to accept it, a kind of disconcerting comfort in my reality as Alpha's submissive. To experience those sensations in relation to another though...Especially one with perfection already sitting at his feet? Life is an interesting and strange place.

There have been moments wherein I have found myself supremely comfortable in my own skin, yet...Sometimes I hate it, this part of me that I have no option but to be, the part that finds me on my knees lost in the need to please.
Where I'll pour out my dreams and sins from within, lay my own heart out in the dirt at their fucking feet...How the actual fuck...? It's almost funny, in a fucked up ironic sort of way...Never. Never in a million fucking years would I ever have conceived of having these feelings and compulsions for someone else. And the lucid dreaming? Hmmm...If he hasn't already, surely he's about to decide that I'm bat-shit crazy.

I woke up this morning sure that I was insane. There was a sense of relief, yes--the way their hug felt, the way he squeezed me goodby on his way out the door, the fact that not only had the cards all been placed on the table, they had been seen and acknowledged by all of us. At the same time, what on god's green earth made me feel like I had to say that to him, in front of Alpha no less?

I have said some really difficult shit to Alpha over the years. Things that made me cringe, want to crawl under a rock, or cry. Things after which I thought he'd never love me again. When you have nothing left to hide from another human being, you can be guaranteed that you have said some painful shit.
The most difficult words I ever spoke to him were in that moment on the mountain, as the sun burned off the morning mist, when Alpha made me admit out loud that I had fallen in love with Omega. And yea, it's been a good while since that moment, and that moment had been a good while coming.

The strange thing about speaking the most difficult words of your life? There will be a time when you top that moment. For me, it was telling Omega that I had fallen in love with him. In front of Alpha. The offer had been declined, he has a beautiful girl who is absolutely divine, likely his "one". But I felt it had to be said aloud. By me.
I woke up this morning wondering, "Fucking why??". Who says that shit out loud like that, in circumstances like these, to someone you both consider family and want to have in your lives forever??

Why...? Terrifyingly enough, because that compulsion to honesty is so deeply tied to submission for me that I can't fucking help it. And because it was the only way for him to know for sure...To feel that this was not held against him by Alpha. That moment and the lack of animosity or discomfort they felt between each other proved that nothing could break their bond. In some strange, fucked up, and convoluted way, it was my gift to them. Because they both needed to see that not even this, not even me, could come between them, or break their bond. And that in itself is proof that some relationships, like theirs, are truly unbreakable.

Service is a concept that I have been musing on quite a bit lately, and I have learned a lot. To serve is not about feeding need or desire as the submissive thinks it should be fed. It's about feeding the need or desire as it genuinely is required by the receiving dominant. Sometimes service is pleasure or acceptance of pain. Sometimes service is feeding someone a meal and promising that one will always welcome and look out for someone's "one". Sometimes service is accepting the fact that what is desired and needed comes from another
And so I serve as what I am, offering the compulsions I carry, speaking to god from my knees and offering whatever manner in which I can please.

And so, somehow, to the Alpha and Omega I bend. The beginning and the end.