The first few glasses had ice, to mellow the drink. It had one large cube to start, and I watched it melt away as I refilled the glass. Now I am in several drinks, and I see the metaphor as it applies to Kitten and I. One Large cube at the beginning, mellowing everything that was harsh. That was Kitten, she was my drink, she made it all go away.
I drank from that glass, I tasted every drop. I never wanted the bottle to be empty, I was drunk on her and sobriety was not an option. I would sneak a glass whenever I could, and savor every sip. She was numbing all the pain, and that was ok with me. I loved her, and I still do.
Then, the ice started to melt. I felt myself drifting into the darkness, a depression I had never experienced before in my 42 years and which scared me more than anything. I knew I was lost. My Injury, My pain, my finances. It was all grabbing onto me, and dragging me far down into a hole. I kept drinking from Kitten, but I didn’t add to the ice that mellowed it. I drank, like I am now, watching the cube melt. Knowing I needed to add more to that ice, but not being able too. I hoped the ice wouldn’t dissipate before I could make more.
We were in love, that was all I had at the time. She was working a lot and begging me to come back to her. Begging me to shake the darkness, and I wanted too so bad. I felt like I was in the bottom of a hole staring up at her calling to me, wanting more than anything to climb to her. I heard every word, but I was so deep, I couldn’t make the climb.
It was my fault. I started hiding from her when she would have a bad day, even though it wasn’t right and I knew it. I knew, no matter how hard her day was, she would want to hear about mine. But I hid it. I was afraid my frailty would melt the ice faster.
I noticed the small changes fast. I paid attention to everything, so when something was different, it wasn’t hard to spot. the early bed times, the short talks. I screamed at my self to get more ice in the glass, but I was afraid she wouldn’t understand, I was foolish and stupid.
“You should be able to tell me anything”
Those words ring through my head, even today. The moment when I knew I lost her. The moment I knew I couldn’t beg her back. I wanted to change. I tried. Time was not on my side. She had given me so many chances, her voice calling to me like an angels song breaking through the sounds of a battle. The battle was all in my head, as I ducked into the trench afraid to show her how scared I was. I ducked from her song.
I was “Sir”, I was the wolf, looking over his Kitten. I was supposed to be the strength, the stability. I was supposed to be where she ran when she was scared or stressed. How could I let the woman who looks at me as “Sir” see me broken and begging for help? That was my first mistake.
The ice melted, and the drink was at room temperature. I watched it slowly dwindle, from the once large clear cube, to the small pieces of a cube, the last molecule evaporating into the thin air. I knew the drink was melting her fire for me, and I was so afraid, I couldn’t drag myself to her. I wanted to, every day. I wanted to throw myself into her care and beg for her to fix me, like she had when we first met. But, my fear of being seen as weak in her eyes, doomed me.
Finally, when the last little bit of ice melts, the drink gets warmer. She didn’t want it to melt. She didn’t want it to end. but she had to protect herself. A year was too long for her too wait for me to get back to who I was. Other words were said about me not getting to her fast enough, and beyond that. But I know the crux of the issue. The ice melted, she couldn’t mellow me anymore. I was so far gone, I was like bottom shelf whisky in a dirty glass to her.
It has been over a year since she took her collar off for good. We have tried other ways, but the collar was never back on, despite what we said and tried. It has been a year since I lost the woman I love and my submissive. I have done a lot of changing and growing since. I have fixed a lot for me. But, Kittens heart is in a different place. A place where she can only trust her. Sure, we are still friends, some days I know I am more of a burden than I am worth, but she feels some guilt and still indulges my texts and calls. I can’t push, I can’t be “Sir”. I lost those privilege’s, when I lost her and myself. But I crave her to this moment, even if she couldn’t submit again. with the distance, still, I crave her.
Gentlemen, hear my words. Be the “Sir” she needs you to be. Not the “Sir” you have built up in your head as this impenetrable fortress, incapable or being broken, you can be, I was the hardest wall ever. Show her your weakness, she is the only person you can show it too. Show her that you can be the wolf, but you need your kitten to wrap around when it is cold. Show her, how when you put her in your glass, it makes the entire world taste better. I would do anything for that chance again. Not the hybrid we tried. Not the moderated attempt. I would give anything for the trust and her heart back in my hands, The ice would never melt again, I assure you.
Raise a glass, but don’t let your ice melt.
~Sir
Mind of Sir 