I was walking down the street, studying the flowers and land. At the far end, a black cat lay in the road. I paused to look closer at one of the weeds, and when I next looked to the cat, it was walking toward me.
There was a hesitant sort of dance. I didn't want to scare the kitty away, but I wanted closer. On it's part, I think the cat just wasn't sure whether I was friendly or not. Upon agreement that a little pet and sniff wasn't going to hurt anyone, we met in the middle.
There was a collar, but no tags. The collar was too small. Skin around the cats torso hung in a way that suggested weight loss. A sore on the tail confirmed that this cat was, if not homeless, at least not well cared for. (A large, pink, wet-looking sore with swollen puss-filled bumps. Occasionally, the poor kitty would turn slowly to lick at it.)
After begging Hubby, we brought the kitty home. It desperately needs a trip to the vet. With all of our other animals -- three cats, a small dog, and several rats -- it is unlikely that we will be able to keep the newcomer. I will probably end up seeing to it's health and finding it a loving home.
Kitty seems to be fairly comfortable already. We saw to feeding it, and cleaned the wound with diluted hydrogen peroxide. Confidently, it sniffed about the space, before finding a good spot and sprawling out. Movements were slow and carefully deliberate, but not in a way to suggest slinking or an inclination to run at a moments notice.
The only thing it clearly didn't like was being put into the travel box. Considering the cat is taller than the box, I don't blame it, but there really wasn't another option. Once in the box, all was a-ok, so long as I kept my fingers in petting range.
(I believe the feline to be male, but it's hard to be sure. If male, definitely fixed. We'll know more about the situation after the weekend, when we can get in to the vet.)
I don't know if this is true for everyone, but it is true for me.
There comes a point where trust is broken beyond reasonable repair. Not that it could not be regained -- and in the experience I had recently, it very nearly was -- but that the method of regaining is so far beyond what can be expected of even the most patient and dedicated human.
It isn't that I can't forgive for what has passed. I have. I hold no resentment for the mistakes made. I know I made my own.
It is simply that I have learned through experience that X person cannot be trusted with Y. Probably what I have learned is no longer true, for people evolve and grow constantly. Still, I have learned it, and unlearning is too difficult for everyone involved.
It hurts to acknowledge. Not only the person hoping for trust, but it hurts me, too. I want to trust the people that I love. I want them actively in my life. I want to talk with them, and spend time with them, and laugh and be worry free.
Sometimes... It hurts more to keep trying and failing, than it does to be honest with myself.
Our words are getting better. I am getting better at saying mine. Speaking calmly when something hurts my feelings, and remembering that what was done or said was not likely meant to hurt. He is getting better at not taking my hurt personally. He is also speaking his own words.
The Hubby and I fight. Less now than once, but plenty enough. It's usually the result of miscommunication. One or both of us get hurt feelings over something, and we escalate instead of talking calmly. I guess this is normal, whatever that means. Eventually, we find the right words, and the tension ends.
We are remembering to say the good things, as well as the bad. I'm not sure I can really explain how much of a difference that makes.
I don't feel unwanted when there isn't time. He tells me every day how much he wants me. He says clearly that he needs me. And he shows me. With kisses and hugs, with snuggles in bed, or petting my hair. There are less times that I feel he is distracted when we are together. I know that when we aren't together, he is thinking of me. All the time.
It feels good.
It feels good to be open to him emotionally. I'm not usually one to give freely of my weakness, but it's getting easier. It helps that he needs it from me. He tells me how he likes it.
We have our rough moments. But it's more noise and less substance. The good moments are growing. We are two trees in the sun, twisting together into one.
I have everything I wanted. Someone once told me that I couldn't have it. That I was setting myself up to fail by looking for it.
I wanted something more than multiple partners. I wanted a Husband -- a man who was dominant and sweet, a Daddy type, someone who would control me and help me be a better me. I wanted a girlfriend -- someone I could laugh with, and giggle, and make beautiful girly love with. What's more, I wanted those two aspects to meld with each other. I wanted a relationship that was inclusive of all three of us, not simply allowing for me to have other partners outside of the 'primary' partner.
This desire didn't stop me from dating outside of those ideals. It simply kept me searching.
I've stopped searching.
A week ago, we asked the Bratling to move in to our home. She accepted, of course. It just feels so good and right to have her there. Finding places for all the 'stuff' is a pain, but it's no trouble at all to know that her place is with us.
I can only hope that it makes her as happy as it makes me.
She wasn't home last night, and everything felt odd. Dinner without her was odd. When I crawled into bed and cuddled up to Hubby, it felt strangely empty not having her there on my other side. Hubby got up in the morning, and I didn't have my sweet sugar doll to hold on to while I waited for the alarm clock. I missed her so much.
I am so blessed to have her in my life. I have two partners to love, and cherish, and share with. I can't tell you just how fulfilling that is.