In the Pink

I would like to have it publicly noted that I am a very lucky Tabby. Beyond and above all else, without good communication, any relationship is so much horse manure.

No matter the subject, I can talk without the knots that my stomach is capable of entwining itself into, forming stalactites north of my bellybutton. With him, I mean. With Don Gato, my amazing and wonderful Dom, lover, and partner.

I said before how healthy I feel with him -- I can't stress it enough.

I wrote to him once:


"...you ease my soul. How you hear me, and enfold me in your warm embrace and hold me close, soothing the tears, calming the shudders, reassuring me, and taking care of me better than I can myself...

When I hurt, you help me heal. You catch my tears. You gently absorb the sadness that overwhelms me.

And each time I catch my breath anew at how generous and loving you are. How much you care. How you cushion me in warmth and kindness.

You wrap me in your soul, and I nestle there, hiding from the universe until I can gather myself and face them again.

I love you. Do you know how much?"

It still stands.