Distance is difficult. Being physically three hours away from my Daddy/boifriend is, at times, excruciating. I’m a babygirl, in every sense. I need comfort, reassurance. I need to be held, coddled a bit, and roughed up most of the time. I need to come home from a stressful day and crawl in his lap, be held, then dragged to the bedroom by my hair and have my ass pounded. These are more than wants.
But what’s even harder is emotional distance. We all have methods of self preservation. I would never begrudge anyone their coping mechanisms. But when I leave him there and come back here he is always distant for a few days, always tucked away behind a shell. And it used to be a wall, in the beginning it was a wall. Now it’s just a shell, so that’s progress. I just get scared that in his effort to protect himself from being so raw he’s going to disconnect too much, he’s going to disconnect from me and not just the distance or pain. I need him. It’s hard for me to admit need, hard for me to admit someone has me completely vulnerable, weak. But he does. And my God, he is so amazing to me, with me. How many bois greet their girl at the car with a bouquet of flowers and send them inside while they get the luggage? How many bois cover the house in rose petals leading to the bedroom with candles flickering? How many bois give their girls commitment rings to symbolize their seriousness and intent to collar them, hopefully one day marry them? How many then fuck their girl and choke her with their belt while calling her a filthy whore and telling her how much they love her? My Daddy does. He’s amazing, but he needs to have his down time too, his vulnerability and weakness. I just don’t get to be privy to that like he is with me. And it’s new still. In the grand scheme of things it’s very new, but it still scares me that he could just decide it’s too hard, too difficult, too much work at some point in time, and that would be devastating. My faith in myself, my ability to hold his attention and affection, my worthiness of his love and ownership, my value as a human and as a submissive, these faiths in myself are not strong in the least, and those doubts eat at me when he needs space. Perhaps when he takes time to deal with his emotions and need for solitude I should take time to work on me, revel in an opportunity for personal growth and development. But all I can do is worry, and fight the urge to try and move mountains. Molehills I can do, but his mountains are his own to move, just like he can’t move mine.