H is for Happiness.
I tried to think of a less generic word but I kept circling back to happiness. It’s kind of becoming my alphabet theme anyway.
I asked Master for an H word and he fires back “Horny!” I mean, of course he did. Wanna bet I don’t even finish this entry before I have a dick in one of my holes? (Oooh! Another H word! Holes!)
Actually Master just got home from a quick work trip late last night, and we already fucked this morning, so maybe I can finish… *types faster*
I don’t expect to be happy all the time. I don’t expect that he’s obligated to try and make me happy all the time. I am not his second job.
And, his happiness is a higher priority than mine. It is *imperative* to me that he be happy, if not all the time (because unreasonable) then at least MOST of the time. And if he isn’t happy, it hurts me to be the cause of his unhappiness.
Sometimes, that consumes me. It overwhelms me and buries me.
And sometimes he fails to see that. I don’t even know if he should see it. Probably that’s unreasonable, too.
Every now and then, Jessa will call me after she’s had a tiff with her husband and it’s almost always the exact same issue at the core. Oh, they might be arguing over different surface stuff, but it almost always comes down to this one thing: Neither of them SEES (appreciates) what the other is doing.
He is a Sergeant in the Army. He’s up and out the door for p.t. by 4:00 (-ish?) am. He has a lot of pressure, his work hours are long, he’s randomly selected for 24 hour shifts with no notice, he sometimes doesn’t get home until 6 or 7 or 8pm. And because Jes works all weekend, he gets full time Dad duty every weekend.
Jes has the two girls, she babysits another 4 yr old all week, and works a double shift on Saturdays and a single shift on Sundays at a bowling alley (she’s being promoted to Night Manager actually). Babygirl has homework to do after school, plus girl scouts. Babygirl 2.0 was diagnosed with Celiac’s Disease (still waiting on biopsy but had a positive blood test for it) AND Jes is taking an online class to be a Medical Assistant, phlebotomy tech, and ekg tech.
So they both have tremendous responsibilities and pressures. And, like a lot of couples, they “forget” how hard the other one is working. He might start nagging because the house isn’t picked up or dinner isn’t ready, she might start nagging that he isn’t helping enough with the kids so she can do homework, or that his idea of supper on a Saturday night is Burger King… and pretty soon she’s calling me telling me what a jackass he is being.
But no matter how often I counsel her (both of them) to be considerate of each other’s pressures and obligations and work load, I myself fall into that same method of thinking.
I know that Master works very very hard at his job. I know it’s high pressure, I know it’s not very fun to be away from home, usually without internet or cell service. I know he’s working at least 12 hours a day when he’s gone, that the sleeping arrangements aren’t 5-star hotel accommodations.
I know finances weigh on him, he worries about the future and retirement and his age and health. And I know he provides very, very well for me. We have nice cars, all the gadgets, high speed internet, a nice roof over our heads. He makes sure the kids have what they need, he’d never let them go without food or the basics, and he has said numerous times that the door is always open for any of them to move back in with us if they want or need to.
I know all that, and I appreciate all that, and it’s because of that that I do try really really hard to put his happiness as my top priority. Because he deserves it. Not just because he’s my Master and it’s one of my duties as his slave- but because he’s just a good man who has made my life pretty amazing and he’s EARNED it.
So I will swallow things down, when I even so much as sense that he would rather stay home and play his game than… go to a party or fuck or play with me or, you know, do anything. I swallow the urge to ask, to invite, to entice- because I feel like I’m intruding on what he *really* wants to do. I feel like I’m nagging. I feel like I’m demanding.
Even if he ASKS me, I deny that I want or need anything. I smile. I reassure. “No, really, I’m fine! Go play. I have a headache anyway.” or some such whatever-excuse so he never ever feels obligated to do anything other than what he wants to do.
Because that’s important to me, you know? That he get to do what he wants ALL THE TIME (well, except work, I suppose. Although he is doing the career he wants with the company he wants). And if he’s choosing to play his game then probably that’s what he wants to be doing.
I let his happiness become such a priority over mine that I start to feel invisible. I start to feel like I’m drowning in loneliness. I move far beyond momentary unhappiness and dive into a sea of misery.
When the truth is, he’s simply not reading my mind. I need so badly for him to CHOOSE it, to choose me, that I can’t put myself or my need out there. I can’t stomach the idea of being a NEED that he HAS to attend to, and once I start to feel resentful of feeling like I’m a NEED that he HAS to attend to, I go even farther out of my way to NOT be a need. Avoid, deflect, deny.
After a few months of silently, secretly drowning while smiling and waving to him on the shore, I go under. I can’t help it. I sink, fast. Waterlogged and out of air, I sink and I despair and I cry and then I shoot up, sputtering and screaming and there he is, unsuspecting on the shore, looking at me like “Wtf? You just said you were fine like 3 seconds ago.” Then he feels blindsided (because he was) that I’m suddenly screaming at him for neglecting me and letting me almost DIE (drama queen) and he gets defensive and angry. Understandably so.
And then I’m so consumed by own misery that I stop “seeing” everything he’s got going on. I “forget” that a day or two to unwind after a work trip is necessary, and NICE, and not a personal rejection. I “forget” that while I’ve sat here day after day doing abso-fucking-lutely nothing, he’s not had a single minute of silence.
I know there’s a better way. I know there’s a better way to create happiness, a way to prioritize both our needs that leaves neither of us feeling either neglected or stifled.
I know he’ll be playing his game soon. And I want that for him. I legitimately want him to keep the hobby that makes him happy.
I need to make my own happiness a priority, too– long before I’m mired in muck. I need to be open about my needs before I sink. It’ll still be on him to choose them, but he’s never going to choose them if he doesn’t even know about them.
H is for Honesty. There is more than one way to be deceitful. It is not on him to dig into me and yank out what I need. I pretend I don’t need anything and then use his failure to attend to me as proof that he doesn’t care about my needs. It’s setting him up to fail. Even if that’s not deceit, by definition, it’s certainly not nice.
And it’s not WORKING.
(ps. Didn’t make it through but I came close! He used my mouth round about the last paragraph.)