This Is Missing My Boy

My Boy is out tonight and I miss him so much.

The odd thing is that I don’t really want him to be here. I know where he is and what he’s doing tonight. I know how much he’s enjoying himself and I am so happy for him. No, I don’t want him anywhere but where he is.
If (and this is about to get slightly fanciful) a fairy appeared and offered to wave a magic wand and have him spirited back here this second, I’d say “No thank you”. In fact, quite honestly, right now I’d probably wish for him to be out again tomorrow to do the same things again (which would need to be worded very carefully to avoid some kind of time loop paradox).

None of which sounds like missing him at all.

But despite all that, I’m acutely aware of the Mat shaped place in my heart which he fills. I’m thinking of all the wonderful ways he makes me happy. I’m thinking, in fact, about how I need him. Somewhere inside my head, I’m curled up, held tightly in his arms and neither of us are letting go.
I miss him.

I miss him so much it hurts but I’m so happy tonight that I can.

Distance Is Not Always Measured In Miles

I’ve never been keen on long distance relationships. When you measure intimacy by touch, physical absence is hard to deal with. Still all relationships have their separations, their distances and efforts have to be made to overcome these.

My most recent sense of this was my trip away over Christmas. Several thousand miles and several time-zones coupled with severely hampered digital access certainly gave me a sense of distance. However flights were pre-booked in both directions and so I was able to count down the days and the hours until that distance was closed.

Currently I’m struggling with a distance of another sort. Life has changed and with it time, which used to be available with my boy, is no longer. The physical distances involved are relatively small but the time stretches between us; as these days even physical presence doesn’t always equal having the energy or mental space for play.

So I find myself, in effect, a long distance Domme. Oh, there are some advantages over being truly long distance; occasional opportunities to slip something into Mat’s bag for instance for him to discover later but mostly, that’s what I am.

I’m striving to keep up some form of D/s every day, as much for me as for him. Even if all I can do is text him to remind him who and what he is; I reaffirm that he is my boy in some way every day.
There have been tasks too, wearing my panties under his clothing, or getting him to tie up his cock for me. They make me smile as I imagine what he is doing, more so if I have a picture to go with it, but still, long distance D/s is mostly based on trust.

I can not compel him with my touch, or my voice or even the look in my eyes. Instead I must believe that he obeys because he wishes to be mine, and he must believe that I truly want his service, that it is of value and meaningful even when I am not physically present.
And all those things are true for me. Each distant task a little piece of connection, of comfort. Me in my place, he in his, until we can be together with the time and the space to truly be ourselves; to play as we wish.
I hold onto that thought as the long moments pass.