It is too long between writings. I feel the time stretch out like a taut rubber band. I leave Mr. D’s side and go back to my professional single mom life. I think about what I will write. Life and child and work fill each day to overflowing.
The band stretches further. I long for Him. I ache to write for Him. I know the time is racing away. I feel the vacancy. It winds around me while I work, while I toil for others. The absence of Him. The absence of the me I am with Him.
The band reaches critical stretch. I must choose. Child and boss or Master and slave? Each day I choose the child and the boss because they are my iminent responsibilities. Though my heart chooses my Master in the longing I feel, the ache that is ever constant while I’m away.
The band splinters and breaks. I am gone so long from Him. The writing is an empty page. The days of caregiving are all there are in this world. The fulfillment of Master and slave a distant photograph.
The slave bows her head. She returns to her Master in shame. She knows before He says it. She drifted too far from His sphere. She drowned in the sea of other cares.
His hand on her neck. His touch so gentle, so loving and kind. His words so vulnerable and clear. “I need your words. I need to know your thoughts. I am not angry and you are not in trouble. But you need to know how important your words are to me.” His breath warm, his touch a silken caress.
Her tears and sadness stained her face. The pain filled her heart. For she had disappointed Him. She felt it like a wound. Deep inside she felt the pain but also joy. He loved her enough to tell her what she did wrong and how deeply He needed her, needed her words.